It
has always fascinated me that no matter how hard a struggle is, there
is always some jerk who knows just what to say to make it worse. As a
species, we seem to have a real gift for that. So there are lists of
things to say and things not to say. Some of us actually have to be
told.
But
the sad truth is, the biggest jerk saying the jerkiest things during
any of our struggles is us. If a stranger or well-meaning friend said
any of the things we say to ourselves they would walk away short a
couple of teeth and with a new enemy.
I
am splendidly fat-fatabulous if you will. I wasn’t always. As a
child and a young woman I was very thin. I was “that girl.”
I
liked it.
I
liked being thin. I liked that people were jealous. It isn’t
that I looked down on fat people. It was more that I thought being
skinny was important. I believed it meant something good about me.
When I determined that being skinny meant I was valuable, I also set
myself up for future pain. Because if skinny made me valuable,
not-skinny meant not valuable.
Now,
I am adiposedly gifted. There are a lot of reasons this is so. But
the chorus in my head was written long before any of those pounds or
reasons. Then I had no concept of reasons or mercy. Consequently the
chorus that I listen to all day long is relentless and without mercy.
I
have been amazed at the things that people will say to me about my
fattitude problem. But their breathtaking rudeness pales in
comparison to the noise in my head.
Your
hard time is coming. Mine is too. You may not get fat enough to leave
human clothing sizes and be measured in whale species. But there is
always something hard coming.
When
I was having my babies, I always watched mothers of preemies. I could
not do that, I thought. I could not walk out of a hospital and leave
my baby there. I could not bear to be away from them. It would be
intolerable.
Some
years later, I had to walk out of a hospital and leave my baby there.
He was busy having his life saved and there wasn’t a bed for me
in the NICU. But sure enough, those thoughts I had carefully
cultivated came roaring up. I couldn’t handle this. It was
intolerable. I could not stand to be apart.
The
truth was, of course, that I could. I didn’t want to. And
somehow by virtue of assuring myself that I could not do this thing,
I had come to believe I would not have to. Like every other mom
presented with that challenge, I was not given an opt-out clause.
A
few years after my little guy was born, I was diagnosed with a
life-changing illness. The reason for years of poor health became
clear. Some days, it doesn’t seem to matter much. Some days, I
feel like I fight this beast all day and lose. I am usually sanguine.
When it hurts, I get scared. In other words — I am normal.
But
still people say to me, “I could never do that.”
I
am not sure how people imagine this exchange went. Do they think I
said, “Hey, I am totally up for a chronic and potentially
deadly disease. Where do I sign up?” Do they imagine there is
some special breed of people who don’t mind pain or suffering
or fear?
I
couldn’t handle it either. But then it came and I am handling
it. Mostly.
We
would be better prepared for challenges if we minded what we said to
ourselves and others before our own struggle comes.
If
you don’t sniff about how so-and-so drank Diet Coke and that
clearly brought on her cancer, you may beat yourself up a little less
when you find a lump of your own. If you don’t tell yourself
that Brother and Sister Whosit have a wayward child because they
voted Democrat/ listened to music with a beat/ or allowed PG-13
movies, your pain might be less when your own kid starts to wander.
If you wonder what people did to cause their own suffering, maybe you
won’t torture yourself about your own blame.
The
person who will deal with your problems tomorrow is the person you
are being today. Be nice to that person. Being nice around that
person assures your future self that hard times come and you can
handle them.
We
talk about grace. That’s a good thing. The Lord’s grace
makes up the difference between what we have and what we need. It is
grace that smooths the road and makes the way.
But
we can also extend our own little kind of grace. As we judge, so
shall we be judged. It is an invitation to spread a little grace to
others and in the doing, ourselves.
I am me. I live at my house with my husband and kids. Mostly because I have found that people
get really touchy if you try to live at their house. Even after you explain that their towels are
fluffier and none of the cheddar in their fridge is green.
I teach Relief Society and most of the sisters in the ward are still nice enough to come.