Invisible (no.5)
Post #5 Photo by Beth Rosenblatt
My mom was in town for my daughter’s birthday a couple years back.
M. and I had been separated for a while at this point. We decided to all go out to dinner. I decided, because I see how my daughter lights up when we are all together, her mother, her father and grandma, all enjoying a meal. We landed at El Cholo, a very popular Mexican restaurant in the heart of downtown Santa Monica with challenging parking. So M. dropped us off while he circled to find a spot. My daughter, grandma and I grabbed a booth, ordered some drinks and appetizers, we were having a lovely time, laughing and celebrating.
M. arrives a few minutes later in a huff, complaining-the parking, the people, life.
My entire demeanor changes.
And I feel myself literally try to become small.
I think, “it’s a matter of time before he’ll turn his rage on me and it will ruin our evening.” (as has transpired so many times before).
Then the thought enters my mind, “I wonder, maybe I can become invisible, so he’ll focus his energy else where."
I truly believe, "I can become so small he just won’t notice me.”
Sitting here.
In this booth.
Across from him.
It was the first time I remember wishing I could be invisible.
Just disappear not exist in this moment.
Allow the joy we were all feeling, to continue, without me.
I’d do that for my daughter, disappear so she can have a fun night out with grandma and papa.
It may have been the first time, but it certainly was not the last.
As I continued to put on weight, to shield myself, to cope, being invisible became my way of being in the world. My stomach grew, my arms got bigger and so much of my energy focused on hiding my body, hiding the growth, hiding the largeness of it all. I looked for ways for my body to not exist.
I started to wear all black and navy. Most of my life I wore white and bright colors to reflect my personality.
The new wardrobe was still a reflection of how I felt.
Because it wasn’t just about hiding my body, it was about hiding me. My voice. I learned speaking up leads to great pain, so better to just take one for the team.
Today, I watched as my daughter dance in our living room.
The weather is growing warm, she tied up her shirt and her belly was bulging out.
She doesn’t care, she doesn’t even notice.
And I wonder how long she will feel like this.
I wonder who might say something to her one day, so she no longer feels that freedom to let it all hang out. To be so incredibly free in her body, to take up space, to exist, to play large and never ever know what it feels like to want to be invisible.
Brene’ Brown talks about a moment of shame in art, where kids around 3rd of 4th grade, someone makes a comment, and they stop creating so freely and onward they want their art to look like the picture. Or they just give up creating art all together.
This moment of shame happens to our girls too, about their bodies. When someone makes an ignorant remark about their body and that’s the moment the girl turns from loving it, or not even noticing it to hating it. All it takes is one remark.
The effort to shrink ourselves and become invisible has been born.
And no matter how thin they become, how much they try to become invisible they can’t shake that original shame.
THIS is why the eating disorder recovery rate is so dismal.
Those who suffer from it, truly believe they are ugly, unloveable, unworthy, whatever it is. They have bought in and truly believe their inherent worth is based on their appearance alone.
Why do so many think it’s okay, even welcome, to comment on women or girl’s bodies?
ALL THE TIME.
Diet culture* is powerful, it is everywhere. And it’s impact is seeps into every crevice of our lives.
It reaches much deeper than vanity, being on a diet or whether or not you wear make up, it’s a question of worth. Feeling somehow superior because you live in a small body. We are striving for something that doesn’t exist, the game is rigged.
Photo shopped, filtered, high angle shot from above, life on instagram, ain’t it grand?
I’ve started wearing white again, letting my arms show, I’m mostly turn up on zoom sans make up, hair wild and free, shorts even.
I am no longer willing to put myself in a situation where I feel compelled to not exist, to be small, to be invisible.
So when that comment comes lobbied at my daughter, that person, in her eyes will be invisible.
I’m living large, letting it all hang out.
And I hope you will join me.
#fuckdietculture
Diet culture, is a system of beliefs that worships thinness, promotes weight loss, demonizes certain ways of eating while elevating others, oppresses those who don’t meet the ideal, and places a moral superiority on health, the physical appearance of health. Leaving out mental health.
