Monday, August 6, 2012

I wish I could see what you see....

A friend of mine reminded me that I haven't blogged in a long while.  Life has been so crazy, I just haven't had the time or inspiration.  But as I looked at myself in the mirror this morning I thought to myself, "I wish I could see what Brad sees when he looks at me".  And a blog post was born.

See, I have this problem, when I look in a mirror I don't see the me of today.

I see the me of yesterday, the me in elementary school who was overweight.  The me of high school and my first year in college that needed so desperately to take care of herself, lose weight, stop smoking, so many things I would change.  But that is what I see.

It's funny some days it's elementary school Danielle.  The girl who boys like Kevin and Tommy picked on so mercilessly.  I can remember every single awful name ever thrown at me, the fat cows, pigs, hippos, horses, whales used to taunted and hurt.  I subsequently turned into a rather nasty kid.  My brother would step in and kick the living crap out of the boys that picked on me, because only HE could call me names.  Celia Cellulite being one of his more creative ones.  I do remember when one of the two above boys mentioned came up to me and told me he couldn't wait for my brother to graduate from St.Hyacinth's because he was going to get me.

My mom finally put me on this diet she saw in our local paper and I lost weight one summer.  Almost 20 pounds.  I was thrilled to go to school and get measured in front of everyone for my uniform, (yep they measured and called out sizes and everything, not one of my favorite days), thrilled to show them the new me.  That was my 7th grade year and the first year my brother wasn't in school with me.  I was even a cheerleader for the basketball team with my new found confidence.  Eighth grade came and the teasing started again.  Not sure why, I hadn't gained weight back, but that Tommy kid just couldn't stop with the names.  I finally had enough on our 8th grade class trip.  After a fun day at an amusement park we all got on the bus, went to get in our seats and he was sitting in mine.  In kid world it was a good one, near the back where all the cool kids sat.  I asked him to move and he refused.  Then he started in with the names.  I guess how many years of name calling finally caught up to me and I had had enough.  So I took him to the back seat, beat the ever living hell out of him myself (see my brother decided I needed to learn to defend myself in case those boys ever tried to hurt me) and broke two fingers in the process.  I can still remember his buddy Kevin screaming at him, are you gonna let a girl do this to you?? Hahahahaha!!  Like he had a choice.

Needless to say no one bothered me again.  The story I told my Nun was I fell and landed funny on my fingers when I asked if we could get some ice to stop the swelling.  Tommy didn't say anything about what happened, I guess the humiliation of having his ass whooped by a girl would have been too much for him.  Enough of that though, wow did that bring back some memories I hadn't intended on writing down...should they stay or should they go, I don't know.  I guess I'll see.

Other days it's High School Danielle, the yo-yo dieter.  I was up, I was down, I had jeans I wore when I  was heavy, I had my skinny jeans.  This was back in the day of Jordache, Gloria Vanderbilt and Sasson.  I'd leaf through 17 magazine and wish to look like those girls in their awesome outfits, flawless skin, perfect hair and smiles.  Here I am the day after my Sr. Prom at Jones Beach with some friends, this was a down weight time for me.

At least the name calling stopped though.  In high school it was a different kind of shunning you got, you watched as the skinny girls got asked out on dates, asked to prom, the ones the boys fell over themselves to get noticed by *sigh* never happened for me.  I'd have dates here and there when I lost weight, and I did manage to screw up the courage to ask a boy to both my proms, but for the most part I didn't have a boyfriend and dates were few and far between.

Or, I see the freshman me of my college days.  Which one is me in this lovely photo??


Oy vey, the freshman fifteen everyone is supposed to gain?  Try the freshman 40 for me.  Pizza, buffalo wings and beer.  Might work for some, definitely not for me, but something miraculous happened my sophomore year.  I blew my knee out yet again (no that's not the miraculous part.  I did that every year since I turned 14 duh) and I had to have surgery.  After I had my surgery I had to do physical therapy and work it out.  I did that all summer until I went back to college for my Junior year and people didn't recognize me I had dropped so much weight and gotten in such good shape.  I pretty much kept it that way by doing aerobics and laying off loads of the junk food.  When I met Brad my senior year, I was still a size 6.

He saw me the way I really looked.  He liked what he saw.  But I still didn't see what he saw.  I didn't see the person one of my college friends was referring to when she said to me, "Look at you Skinny Minny", the first time she saw me after my surgery summer.  I tried but I didn't.

Fast forward to the Triathlon me.  Ugh, the me having to wear spandex, the fear and discomfort I felt having to wear something that form fitting, and let's add insult to injury, I had to wear a bathing suit pretty much year round if I kept up with my swimming.
Bathing suits and me, a totally hate relationship, I can't even say love/hate, just hate.  Even when I was training for the IM, and was in pretty amazing shape I was told, all I saw was the pooch of my stomach or my back fat.


But how do I stop this?  I say to Brad all of the time, I want to see what you, and every one else sees.  I want to see how I really look, not the flaws.  Do all women do this to themselves??  Do we all treat ourselves so poorly?  What kind of example am I setting for my girls?  I try to be careful and not do it in front of them, but they know.

I frustrate the heck out of Brad with the way I criticize my image when ever I look at myself.  I find fault immediately.  I will say I look squishy, or soft.  I have been doing Crossfit with Brad since May I think it is and today as I looked at myself getting into the shower all I thought is, I see such change in Brad, me I see cellulite-y thighs, my poochy stomach and a muffin top.  I got in the shower with all the negatives, I was back in grade school again, that teasing ringing in my head.  Does this look squishy to you?



One time after my father died, I was looking in the mirror and I swore he was standing right behind me with his hand touching my shoulder.  He was smiling, and for a dazed split second I believe he stood with me.  When I did a double take, of course it was just me in the mirror.


There are times, far and few between where I'll catch a glimpse of myself and like what I see.

I think to myself, THIS is what Brad sees.  It reminds me of that day with my dad behind me.  I'll do a double take and that image is gone.  And like that day, I keep looking, wishing for that image to come back.....I still do.

8 comments:

Jax said...

Dee, my lovely friend...I do wish you could see what we see. Every last bit of the brave, tenacious and hilarious soul wrapped in that gorgeous body. Miss you, beautiful. *hugs*

Dee said...

I miss you too my friend! A year is so long to have to wait to see each other again!

Unknown said...

Wow, Danielle, love this! I feel like we have so much more in common than I thought. I still have self-image issues and am struggling to overcome those. My best friend tells me all the time that he wishes I could see what he sees. Can't wait for the say when that happens - until then I will look to you for inspiration!

Dee said...

Thanks Jo! I hope your marathon training is still going well. I wish we could sit and help each other see the real us!

russetwolf said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
russetwolf said...

Funny....you got picked on for being heavy I got picked on for being skinny. I was called toothpick and walking stick to name a few. And I never got asked to prom. I am now fifty and still constantly am scrutinizing myself. I have the roll and the flabby arms, this year has been the worst since I haven't been running. I see what Brad sees. I see a wonderful, inspirational lady. Who has a good and caring heart. You're funny, and a great mom and friend to those who know you. And you forgot to post that pic of you in a bikini with your girls. The tag line should read...'Which one of these lovely ladies is the mom?' I saw that pic and thought oh if I could only look that good in a 2 piece. You are beautiful Dee inside and out. :)

Dee said...

I had no idea how this blog would touch my friends. I am glad I wrote it now! I was afraid it was too unfunny, too serious...

Jax said...

I know I often wonder how other people see me, or more to the point, what they see in me that makes them want to be friends. Childhood teasing leaves such deep self doubt and fears. I think we all try so hard to let the past stay there, and we feel silly when such things still intrude in our present. It's helpful to see that we aren't alone. Especially from someone we all admire.