Well, let me start by saying first things first – my aunt called me yesterday to apologise. Yes. Knock me down with a feather! I had been asleep, because I was just emotionally and physically exhausted from the weekend (plus I had to be at work at 7am on Sunday). I woke up about 530pm and I get a phone call. She called to say she was sorry for saying what she said, that she could tell I got really upset about it and she didn’t want there to be any hard feelings between us. I was speechless. What could I say? I couldn’t believe it, I mean where did this come from? I said thank you and I appreciate it and that was the end of it.
Whether or not she will do it again, I don’t know. I can’t worry too much about the future right now. I hope that progress was made. Maybe the next party where there’s free flowing alcohol…..
Given the endless circles I’ve been going in lately regarding plastic surgery, it hit close to home. My weight and body changing has been an obsession, much as I’d prefer it not to be.
Regarding some of the comments, questions and suggestions:
1) I usually have some snappy zingers to retort, but for some reason my mind was not fast enough and I was tongue tied. And there’s always the respect factor. She’s my aunt and godmother and because of my upbringing I can’t be really disrespectful. No matter how cruel she is to me. It’s the same thing with my mother.
2) I think one of my comments to her was something to the affect of “Why are you so fascinated by my boobs?” that was as close as I got to questioning her obsession.
3) PS Diva’s line about keeping Aunt Jo away from the kiddies, made me LOL. Thanks for that.
4) I do think my aunt, who is a very sweet person in general, is jealous of me for living the life she could have had she made different choices. I believe that may be reason she attacks me – the physical aspect is my Achilles’. And in the same way, dogs can smell fear; opponents can sense their adversary’s weakness and will attack.
5) I’ve had to deal with unsupportive family members for the past four years I’ve been on this journey/ordeal to lose weight and do it healthily. In the past I’ve abused myself, but this time I wanted to do it right. It would have been so easy to fall back into those old habits and for the most part I’ve stayed away from those patterns. It doesn’t help that I live at home with my mother and my Nana who are both the worst eaters and part of the reason I’m the way I am. My mother is overweight, and a few years ago I became concerned about her health – heart disease and diabetes run in my family line. I got her on South Beach with me two years ago and she was delighted. The problem was that if as long as I did all the cooking, she was fine. If I don’t cook, she doesn’t eat. WE don’t eat. As any of you know, SBD is a labour intensive diet. It takes a lot of prep to stay true to it. And its all too easy for me not to eat because I’m lazy or get on the chocolate diet where all I eat is chocolate. Its frustrating. Right now because I’m focused on completing my thesis I don’t have the time to cook and do all the chopping and shopping and cutting. On average I work out about 25 hours a week and I'm barely doing that. So, I’ve been taking shortcuts and doing the bare minimum. Then last week she got sick and couldn’t eat, but doesn’t bother to tell me. I cook and then no one eats? It’s not worth it to me. My Nana loves to buy all kinds of junk food. When I complain about it, she says you’re not the only one who lives in this house. She doesn’t eat it. But when I commented that there is NO ONE in this house who should be eating it, she couldn’t respond. If she buys it, I will eat it. I have little willpower sometimes. She fills the house with childhood favourites and it drives me mad. On top of that, then the fridge is filled with all sorts of stuff I don’t/can’t/try not to eat!
6) Please don’t get me started on the whole, “FYI a lot of men like women with small boobs” theory. They do, they’re called homosexuals. End of story. Full stop. I live in LA, nobody here likes small boobs. I'm basically a boy in drag. If I didn't have long hair, you'd never know I was a girl.
7) Kay, thanks for the suggestion about a journal, but if I did, it would be dull and sad. Who wants to listen to someone complain all the time? I hate myself sometimes! Plus, I’m lazy. The more I write about my life, the more depressed I become. Who would want to read that? I prefer to live in fictionland. Much nicer.