I have a serious medical condition and as is the norm for my condition, I was a bag of bones as a child. At the same time, I've always been big for a girl, starting with being nine pounds at birth and my mother told me that when I was five, doctors wanted to put me on drugs to slow my growth because they felt I was too big.
She told them "No, she's not THAT big." I ultimately ended up 5'9" tall and was still a bag of bones when I hit that height at age seventeen, at which point I started taking hormonal birth control pills and gained about fifty pounds in one year.
I met the future ex at age sixteen, so he knew me when I was still rail thin, but I married him at age nineteen after gaining a bunch of weight. He and my mom were always critical of my weight but a lot of men made it clear that I looked just fine, honey, and if he didn't like it, I could always call them if I wanted some positive strokes, which I mostly declined.
I finally got a proper diagnosis as a 36th birthday present -- something I called "A better name for my condition than crazy." -- and my health began to improve, so I made plans to finally leave my unhappy marriage and the following year I attended GIS Summer School.
This allowed me to complete a year-long certificate program in just eight weeks. I also applied for an internship at a national laboratory in Richland, Washington because I and my sons had really enjoyed living there and I hoped to test drive doing the working single mom thing before filing for divorce.
I didn't get that internship, though I did get to the interview stage, and it's just as well I didn't. I interviewed for a position wholly unrelated to my newly minted Certificate in GIS, unrelated to my interest in urban planning and in a satellite office in Sequim I had no idea existed.
But more importantly, after being blown off forever as a hypochondriac because I was merely a homemaker, borrowing $19k-$20k to attend school made doctors take my "whiney" complaints about my throat closing up and threatening anaphylactic shock seriously. So when I listed out the multiple drugs I wanted, instead of treating me like an addict trying to get high on prescription drugs and telling me I didn't need that much medication, he gave me everything I asked for and two or three more to boot.
So I was on something like nine or ten prescription drugs the last half of GIS school and I went through nearly two years of withdrawal afterwards. This saved my life but meant I couldn't possibly have done a test run as a working single mom immediately afterwards.
The divorce proceeded at a glacial speed while I inadvertently got involved with long-distance relationships to men thousands of miles away who, unlike the husband, had no issue with my weight and thought I was gorgeous and made me feel scrumptious.
I've been "beautiful" and I've been "fat and ugly" -- sometimes at the same time...
I eventually got a corporate job and ultimately gave up my car when financing a health miracle out of pocket proved to be too much for my budget to also support a standard middle class American lifestyle and I began walking everywhere because like most American cities, the local bus system left much to be desired.
Some time after that, I tripped across something and I asked around. I didn't get any public replies here, but at least one person emailed me, Dr. Andrew Hall Cutler (PhD in Chemistry) whom I knew from a different online discussion group. But that post outlines what I was trying to understand.
After that, I added capsaicin to my diet and continued walking a lot because -- drum roll -- I simply had no car.
This led to me shrinking so dramatically in a short period of time that total strangers began stopping me at work or at the grocery store, etc., and they typically said "I see you walking all the time!" and then said something about how I've really lost a lot of weight.
In most cases, they were clearly hoping for some hot tip on how they could dramatically drop a lot of weight, so I usually made polite noises about walking a lot and eating healthy.
I didn't want to discuss my medical situation with total strangers AT ALL, but especially not with people at work where I was only disclosing my diagnosis when necessary to proper authorities.
And then one day some gal I had never met gave me some bizarre compliment out of the blue about how great I looked. No, she wasn't looking for weight loss tips.
I dunno. Maybe she was an extremely awkward stupid gay chick hoping to figure out how to hit on me, which didn't occur to me until years after the fact.
At the time, I was just like "So in your opinion, I was a fat cow and in your opinion you are POLITE and well mannered because you never called me that to my face WHILE I was big as a house, but you desperately want to tell me you approve now. Bitch, I don't even know your NAME! What the hell is wrong with you???"
If she assumed I had self esteem issues, no. I've spent my entire life being told I'm gorgeous at any weight. Except by the ex.
To me, this is a funny story that doesn't even hurt my feelings. It makes me giggle and falls under "Sounds like a YOU problem."
In recent years, I've read discussions online by other people telling their anecdotes about similar experiences. Some people have said stuff like "I shut them up by telling them the ugly truth: (I have cancer or can't eat because I'm grief stricken or whatever.)"
If someone you SEE in passing and have NEVER been introduced to drops a lot of weight, let me suggest you don't assume they worked hard at slimming down and desperately want a bizarre stalkerish compliment from a complete stranger who has paid way too much attention to their body without so much as knowing their name.
Assume "They have cancer and probably don't want to talk about it." And MYOB.
Footnote
This post inspired by a comment I foolishly left on Reddit, which I will no doubt regret. It doesn't seem to be downvoted to hell yet. Maybe they stealth deleted it and didn't notify me. (Shrug)
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