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Diaryland is calling.....
On not being attractive enough......
01/21/2002 - 12:15 a.m.
Recently, Miss Almost-Perfect told me that, despite her intellectual attraction to me, she was just not physically attracted to me. This was a terrible blow to my ego at first, and I covered it over by saying she was on the rebound and was coming up with any excuse to explain the problem except that "I ain't him." And that's all true as far as it goes, and even if I was smooth and slim and trim and fit, it probably wouldn't have worked out, but - she's right.
And it's a shocker because, I've never been "not attractive enough" before. Sure, there are millions if not billions of people who wouldn't have swooned for me when I was at my fighting weight, but - I've never had someone so almost perfect turn me down so utterly flat. But then - I've never been fat before either.
Fat?
I'm not fat.
I know I'm "overweight," and "out of shape," but fat? Me? Nah. I'm pleasingly plump, says Mr Cartman.
Yeah.
Truth is, I am fat. I'm 5'10, get zero exercise, and weigh more than many of the smaller pro football players. (Ok, that's a "probably" - I know as much about what pro football players weigh as I do about football itself. That can be summed up quite nicely as - "That's the one with the helmets, right? Like lacrosse but without sticks?")
And it's a filthy weird thing to say - cuz because, among other reasons, when I was younger, I was put on a diet to gain weight. I was skinny as a rail. They were worried about me. No more. Well, not for that reason, anyway.
I want to continue in the state of denial I've been in:
"well, yeah, I know I need to get new clothes - but, it's because of this medication, or that medication, and then I had that bout with pneumonia, and it's hard to exercise when your feet are killing you from a gout attack, and it'll all just go away again....."
But, the truth is, it was me that got me here. Sure, it's a Memphisload easier to sit and drive and drive and sit than it is to do the things I used to do because I enjoyed them - but the truth is - I lost stuff that mattered to me, including my body, because it was easier than to not. It was easier to put on this soft armnor than leave myself exposed. Things were hurting me - I wanted them to stop. So I let them bounce off my new thicker hide - but it was the wrong kind of thick. And it required that I leave stuff behind, so the armor would fit.
And I want those things back. I want to ride my bicycle 100 miles on a Saturday afternoon because I just felt like it, thanks. I want to get back on stage and shout and sweat and strum and strip my shirt off when I have to, and not worry about what my stomach is going to be doing. I want to open myself back up to the life I pretended to forget about.
The weakest thing of all - I can still, quite easily, look at fat people and say - man - they're fat. Dead easy. Not judgementally - "They are weak and thus they're fat," or, "They are bad, and thus they're fat," just - "They are fat." Like - "They have brown hair."
But, funny thing - it takes a real act of will to say - "I am fat." Not, "I'm kinda fat," or "I'm overweight," or "I need to get back into shape."
Fat.
Me.
Mr diet to gain weight.
Mr Dance All Night and then bike 75 miles the next day.
Maybe I'll never do that again - but I can get to the point where I could if I filthy wanted to.
And that's the beauty of all this. Do I care about being rejected by Miss Almost-Perfect? You bet your Graceland I do. But better, and more important - I care about rejecting myself. I got this way by forgetting about parts of myself that were troublesome and required some effort that I didn't want to expend, and didn't see the value of expending. But now I do - I want the parts of me I left behind back. And that means putting aside this armor and getting a new kind.
So - thanks, Miss Almost-Perfect. If I got nothing from you but the sure and perfect knowledge that I don't like what I've become, then it was worth every filthy minute. But I got more than that. So it's bonus time. Coconut mists all around.
Music to examine yourself by::
R.L. Burnside - "Hard Time Killin' Floor" (Wish I Was In Heaven Sitting Down))
"Two brothers, and my father, got killed in Chicago..... that's why I don't like livin' there.... it's too rough a place......"
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