If you’re going to call me fat…

This post I never published. It is originally from Nov 11, 2013.


If you are going to call me fat, you have a serious problem.

Clearly this happened to me.  Why else would I be pushed to the point of writing a blog post about it?  When he said it, it was in response to a room full of playful banter.  So my initial instinct was to laugh it off.  I know somewhere deep down was meant as a joke, but honestly it didn’t play that way.  So I laugh then I followed it up by saying “I’m pregnant.  You know… busy making a life.”  Moments later he said it again and this time  I awkwardly responded with “It doesn’t bother me!” Which it clearly did, and then I say “Hey I’m making a human!  What’s your excuse?”  To which the room gave a roar “OOoooh!!!!” and his reply, “No excuse, but at least I won’t still be fat after the baby comes.”

“No excuse, but at least I won’t still be fat after the baby comes.”

The not-so-playfulness that was happening earlier was for some reason acceptable to me up until that moment.  Why does this man think in any scenario that calling another person fat is okay?  It’s not okay.  That was the moment that I let you get away with saying something truly horrible.  I just awkwardly laughed, turned my back and continued my work.  I just sat with it.   Giving you a power that you didn’t deserve.  Giving up my self respect.

I am a woman who is doing the best I can.  A pregnant woman.  And that’s it.  I wanted to say I am doing the best I can.  But let me clarify what DOING THE BEST I CAN really is.  Because he clearly has no idea.

  • It’s being the mom of a two year old boy.  Giving him non-stop attention, love, encouragement.  Teaching him constantly new words, new skills.  Defining every thing.  Playing cars from the moment we wake up to the moment he goes to bed.  Dance parties, diaper changes, melt downs, laughing fits.  It’s hearing “mommy mommy mommy!” a billion times a day and knowing no matter what I have to stop what I am doing to look him in the eyes so he knows that I am there, for him, always.
  • It’s being a wife.  Loving a man who is doing everything humanly possible to support me and our family.  Supporting him through his career, his improv shows, his meetings, his his ups and downs.
  • It’s teaching middle school kids.  With all their excitement, emotions, story sharing, football and walking dead recaps.  It’s teaching them theater, encouraging them, never making them feel like they will fail.  Helping them to take risk and do something new and terrifying every single day and making it seem like it’s fun.  It’s listening, active listening.  It’s patience at it’s best, because they are in middle school.  It’s making the girls feel powerful and the boys pay attention.
  • It’s driving on the 405 freeway while it’s under perpetual construction and not losing my mind.
  • It’s making a healthy breakfast (not cereal) and healthy dinner for my family as often has humanly possible.  Even if that means putting everything in a crock pot before I leave for work.
  • It’s teaching improvisation to the College Team.  Attempting to teach something new and fresh before I take a leave for a few months.  Making the player schedule, the rehearsal schedule, the coaching schedule, asking to get paid every week by college kids who have no money.
  • It’s teaching improvisation to High School kids.  Answering to everyone about what I am doing, how I am doing it, why it’s different from last year, how to make it better.  It’s constantly having to prove to others that I know what I am doing and to trust the process.   It’s watching the program grow, selling out shows and reffing them.  It’s being proud and knowing that they can do better and figuring out how to help them achieve that.
  • It’s going to rehearsal for shows I am in.  Rehearsing for the middle school shows I direct.  Rehearsing when I know I won’t be performing for a while, but still mustering up any semblance of energy to make a rehearsal.
  • It’s parent teacher night.  One on one parent-teacher conferences.   Meetings at lunch, visiting other schools on days off.  It’s endless work.
  • AND if that’s not enough, it’s doing all of that while simultaneously being pregnant.  Making a human.  The heart, skeleton, lungs, liver, brain, legs, fingers and toes, lips, eyelashes, throat, fingerprints… should I go on?  Because that is what I am doing every second of every day for over 9 months.  All while I go to work, take care of my family, love on the dogs and take care of myself.

So Mr. calls a lady fat.  What have you done today?  Yesterday?  The last 8 1/2 months?  Because I can guarantee you don’t hold a torch to me.  I am badass.  I am powerful.  And you… well you have no clue. You have never experienced life as I have. Your path makes you believe that saying rude comments makes you powerful, but the truth is, you just revealed yourself as a lower class human. You lost my respect. You lost your power. You lost, not me.


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