The 85 pound anorexic bitch from hell

My boyfriend and I took the LONG drive to San Fransisco today to go see his mother. While there we stopped to walk along the beach. We where having a good time, playing outrun the tide when the waves came in, giggling like little kids… and for the first time in days, even weeks, I wasn’t thinking about my body or my weight. But then the joy killer comes along – all 85 pounds of her. She comes running along the beach, a very obvious anorexic woman (I know “naturally skinny” and I know that there is nothing natural about this woman’s thinness unless she escaped from a concentration camp). I was happy and carefree until I looked up to smile at her as she ran by (as I often do when someone passes me because I’m often a joyful person). As she got an eyeful of me her face turned to pure disgust and full on no-holds-barred hatred. I was taken aback and stopped dead in my tracks, the half formed smile suddenly frozen on my face. I couldn’t believe the fierceness of the open hostility this woman who didn’t even know me had for me. She looked at me like I was a Giant Steaming Pile of Dog Poop that she just stepped in wearing 300 dollar shoes. This was the look of horror, disgust, and hatred she had on her face looking dead at me.

It took me a minute to understand this look, I’ve never (to my knowledge) had someone look at me like that. I couldn’t understand what I could have done to this person, whom I don’t even know, to cause her to look at me in that way. But suddenly as I took in her whole physical self, and not just her face, I understood. Seeing her taut skin, the protruding bones,  I suddenly realized I am this woman’s worst nightmare – alive and breathing right in front of her. I am what keeps her awake at night and gives her cold sweats when she even thinks about eating anything even remotely fattening. I am everything she hates and fears all wrapped up in my triple extra large peasant blouse and long flowing size 20-something skirt.

Knowing Anorexia and Bulimia the way I do, and knowing what it does to the mind – the complete and total fat obsession that comes along with it – I knew why she looked at me like that, but knowing why still couldn’t erase the hurt at being looked at like I was Hitler or satin himself. Or the pain I felt knowing this woman hated me totally down to her guts even though she didn’t even know me. I understood her mind’s sickness, but even now, hours later, I can’t stop seeing her face nor chase that putrid look she gave me out of my mind. I hate that we live in a society that can breed such contempt for someone based strictly on their looks. I believe I’m a good person, that I’m someone who would never intentionally hurt someone else. I always try to help people and I try to love everyone even those who hate me. But because of the way I look, that woman and those like her, immediately and completely hate me in an instant. Without even knowing who I am. And that hurts me more than I can say. More than I can ever explain.
My heart aches.

I hate what our current society and the media has done to people. I hate that it even bothers me to be looked at like a steaming pile of shit. I shouldn’t care. But there you have it. I guess I do care. I want to hate that woman for making me feel like this but I know it’s her sickness that has leached the blackness into her mind and heart. I pray she learns to be more loving and accepting of people of different shapes and sizes so that she can learn to love herself too. And maybe then she will get rid of that darkness inside of her that causes her to starve her own body, and treat strangers who are big like rotting, maggot infected meat.

Gah! That LOOK! Father in heaven please cleans my heart and mind and give me peace from the memory of that look.

Advertisements