I sting, and the needle hasn't even punctured the skin.
My mother sent me a letter. I open it. "Dearest Cory", it starts, which I think is just a sappy way of greeting a person. She's very emotional. I try not to deliberately inject emotion into everything, but it can certainly happen if indeed I get upset about something. So, also, on this letter, I see the phrase "my body is a shrine". This letter was typed up, rather than handwritten, which is a red flag to me.
I am overweight. I "should" be 188. I am 210 or so. This has been an issue for maybe three years. One day back then, my parents bluntly sat me down in the chair reserved for me during disciplinary conversations during my teenhood. They took the couch and began a conversation with me that lasted at least one half of an hour. They pointed it out that I was overweight. I can't really remember the specifics of the conversation, but I felt dragged into a state of commitment to shed all that weight. I felt humiliated, although I know it wasn't their intent. I felt, obviously, as though they could have mentioned it in a more compact manner, and reinforced in a believable manner that they accept me for who I am.
But I'm torn. I don't want them to feel like they can't be concerned for me. I just am at a point where I don't want interference from them, I suppose. I want a sense of mutual respect. And I am sick of them, especially her, saying how much they respect me. I guess I want proof. I want subjects that are sensitive to them to be approached in a manner that is sensitive to, and accepting of, me.
My father instructs tai chi. My mother has to have her daily walk. By the ocean, to boot. Nature is something she just absolutely craves. It is a deity to her. I am an atheist, and I am more comfortable amongst the skyscrapers and a little bit of smog. I would suppose that shedding the extra weight I have would make ambulation easier. However, I do not predict ant sort of epiphany. If I hit 188 again, life will move on silently, parents willing.
I'm just plain torn. I don't want to live to be 90. There have been times I just plain have not wanted to live, period, and I am only 30. But on the other hand, however long I do have to live, I'd rather not spend debilitated by a stroke due to my high blood pressure (a condition that is fact, not hypothetical). I am perfectly used to the disability I was born with. However, I can see how other people are saddened by it. I am not sure I could handle a different disability than I have, especially thirty years in.
Happy Mother's Day, Mother. I do love you, and learn from you every day, in ways that you'll never understand. Perhaps I just don't learn from you in the ways you'd like. My cup is somewhat fuller than yours, and that's OK. I'm a thirsty guy, like that waiter in Florida commented cheerfully.
I am overweight. I "should" be 188. I am 210 or so. This has been an issue for maybe three years. One day back then, my parents bluntly sat me down in the chair reserved for me during disciplinary conversations during my teenhood. They took the couch and began a conversation with me that lasted at least one half of an hour. They pointed it out that I was overweight. I can't really remember the specifics of the conversation, but I felt dragged into a state of commitment to shed all that weight. I felt humiliated, although I know it wasn't their intent. I felt, obviously, as though they could have mentioned it in a more compact manner, and reinforced in a believable manner that they accept me for who I am.
But I'm torn. I don't want them to feel like they can't be concerned for me. I just am at a point where I don't want interference from them, I suppose. I want a sense of mutual respect. And I am sick of them, especially her, saying how much they respect me. I guess I want proof. I want subjects that are sensitive to them to be approached in a manner that is sensitive to, and accepting of, me.
My father instructs tai chi. My mother has to have her daily walk. By the ocean, to boot. Nature is something she just absolutely craves. It is a deity to her. I am an atheist, and I am more comfortable amongst the skyscrapers and a little bit of smog. I would suppose that shedding the extra weight I have would make ambulation easier. However, I do not predict ant sort of epiphany. If I hit 188 again, life will move on silently, parents willing.
I'm just plain torn. I don't want to live to be 90. There have been times I just plain have not wanted to live, period, and I am only 30. But on the other hand, however long I do have to live, I'd rather not spend debilitated by a stroke due to my high blood pressure (a condition that is fact, not hypothetical). I am perfectly used to the disability I was born with. However, I can see how other people are saddened by it. I am not sure I could handle a different disability than I have, especially thirty years in.
Happy Mother's Day, Mother. I do love you, and learn from you every day, in ways that you'll never understand. Perhaps I just don't learn from you in the ways you'd like. My cup is somewhat fuller than yours, and that's OK. I'm a thirsty guy, like that waiter in Florida commented cheerfully.
posted by Cory at 21:28
4 Comments:
Wow, and I thought I was the only person on the earth with parents that think I am not quite "up to snuff". I am their third kid and the girl they always wanted. Yeah, they love me but I am always the butt of their jokes and reunions and when they talk about me with the family they take what I have to say as some sort of junk not to be taken seriously. Hey folks I'm pushing 40, it's about time you grew up...
I feel what you are saying and I think you are just fine the way you are. Why fix it if it's not broke?!?!
Thanks for your response. I'm stuck in this odd mode (perhaps by the parenting I was subject to) where I very easily see the heads and tails to any coin given me. I see how they want me to live in a reasonably preventative way, but to me the key word there is "reasonably". We all need to live a little. As long as we have an awareness of the results of our actions, I think we can live safely but purposefully.
Sometimes parents just want you to lead an easy life, the way they think you should. I say do what makes you happy!!!
That's true. And if what makes you happy happens to be the same as what makes them happy, sobeit (hard for me to say since I like going my own direction :) ) .
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