My Food and My Body - some early memories
It was a Saturday morning in the early 1970's, probably around 1974. Like many Saturday mornings, I found it very thrilling to be able to make pancakes. I made a bunch and I think others in the family helped themselves to some. But what I remember is sitting at the table by myself (a typical state of being for that timeframe of my life) about 11:30 AM and eating 13 of them and feeling really, really full, and rather sick.
Another memory I have regarding, "My Food" was buying a half-gallon milk container size of WHOPPERS and eating the whole thing that same day. I ate them in my bedroom.
That day started out with me somehow having the 99 cents to buy the product at Target. I apparently went there with either my father or my mother. Once home, I felt a thrill of accomplishment that I had obtained that carton that I desired to obtain from the store. I couldn't believe that I actually had them. It seemed like a dream, a wonderful fantasy fulfilled. I brought the WHOPPERS to my bedroom and one by one I ate the entire box full and recall feeling sick to my stomach.
My mother and father never purchased fast food. I always recall desiring fast food. I memorized the McDonald's commercial and wrote the words on the chalkboard in my home, and drew a picture of the famous burger: two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuse, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun. More about fast food later. I think I feel sick to my stomach.
A word now about "My body." As a child I was thin and I thought that I could eat whatever I wanted and never get fat. I remember relatives saying that. "She can eat whatever she wants and will never get fat." It wasn't true.
When I think about "My body," I mostly don't have emotions except numbness covering anxiety. I am reminded about my mother and father and grandmother and all of my relatives and their culture back in Italy that they brought with them when they immigrated to the United States. My father, mother and grandmother seemed afraid that there may be sex and sexuality whereever you looked, if you looked too hard or too intently, but they never spoke about it, except in veiled ways.
My father and I used to be close and enjoy each other's company, until I entered puberty, and then I missed my father because he never seemed to talk to me anymore or do anything with me. I had changed. He had changed.
My body is sexual, of course, as is everybody's body. Except a kid's body isn't sexual (except to Freud - you know what I mean). These days when I look at my mother and grandmother and aunts and uncles and all of the Italian relatives that I am blessed to have, they don't seem to have the same problems with their bodies that I have. They are (almost all) thin and wear nice clothes and don't seem uncomfortable with their bodies. They don't act like their bodies are sexy - you know how some people can walk and flaunt their sexuality. They just seem comfortable. So what happened to me? I don't feel comfortable walking, thin or fat (like when you have to walk by someone, or whatever).
When I lost 70 pounds, did my hair and put on make-up and stepped out of my house one day, suddenly I realized that men noticed me and it flipped me out, because I never recalled that happening before. I wasn't overweight until I was about 28 years old, but I don't recall men noticing me before. However, I do recall not wearing make-up and trying to play down my appearance. Now, I try to avoid eye contact. Isn't that weird? I'm not saying everybody notices me like I am something hot or special. It is just that when you are somewhat fat and slightly dumpy, you are invisible.
I don't like people observing the way that I look, except I don't like them thinking that I am unsightly either. It is like there is no alternative. You are either invisible (fat), or visible (sexual/noticed). I think that it is my own hang-up that I think to be noticed is to be sexualized.
My dad, I discovered when I was about 21 years old, read pornography, as I found a stash of a whole bunch of it. My mother let me know that he had his share of sexual problems (like I really needed to know that - every hear of a thing called "boundries". You know, I'm the child here, or am supposed to be). She thought he was gay. He wasn't gay. He didn't have any gay porn. No, he was heterosexual, in my opinion. He and my mother had their marital problems, and in fact divorced when I was 21 years old.
My father's father once accused my godly grandmother of trying to attract attention to her sexuality by wearing a certain sort of belt. My grandmother is asexual for heaven's sake. My grandfather and my father were paranoid people, quite literally, and thought that people were out to "get" their wives, and desired them sexually, and they in fact had to go to some degree to protect their wives from others and protect their wives from the wives own sense of sexuality that may get them into sexual trouble. Two of my father's siblings have serious mental illness, and in fact schizophrenia runs in that family really badly and extensively. I myself am adopted and much to my mother's (and I suppose my) delight do not share the in their genetic pool.
Enough on "My Food and My Body" for today. Thanks for listening. Comments, feedback, questions?
Another memory I have regarding, "My Food" was buying a half-gallon milk container size of WHOPPERS and eating the whole thing that same day. I ate them in my bedroom.
That day started out with me somehow having the 99 cents to buy the product at Target. I apparently went there with either my father or my mother. Once home, I felt a thrill of accomplishment that I had obtained that carton that I desired to obtain from the store. I couldn't believe that I actually had them. It seemed like a dream, a wonderful fantasy fulfilled. I brought the WHOPPERS to my bedroom and one by one I ate the entire box full and recall feeling sick to my stomach.
My mother and father never purchased fast food. I always recall desiring fast food. I memorized the McDonald's commercial and wrote the words on the chalkboard in my home, and drew a picture of the famous burger: two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuse, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun. More about fast food later. I think I feel sick to my stomach.
A word now about "My body." As a child I was thin and I thought that I could eat whatever I wanted and never get fat. I remember relatives saying that. "She can eat whatever she wants and will never get fat." It wasn't true.
When I think about "My body," I mostly don't have emotions except numbness covering anxiety. I am reminded about my mother and father and grandmother and all of my relatives and their culture back in Italy that they brought with them when they immigrated to the United States. My father, mother and grandmother seemed afraid that there may be sex and sexuality whereever you looked, if you looked too hard or too intently, but they never spoke about it, except in veiled ways.
My father and I used to be close and enjoy each other's company, until I entered puberty, and then I missed my father because he never seemed to talk to me anymore or do anything with me. I had changed. He had changed.
My body is sexual, of course, as is everybody's body. Except a kid's body isn't sexual (except to Freud - you know what I mean). These days when I look at my mother and grandmother and aunts and uncles and all of the Italian relatives that I am blessed to have, they don't seem to have the same problems with their bodies that I have. They are (almost all) thin and wear nice clothes and don't seem uncomfortable with their bodies. They don't act like their bodies are sexy - you know how some people can walk and flaunt their sexuality. They just seem comfortable. So what happened to me? I don't feel comfortable walking, thin or fat (like when you have to walk by someone, or whatever).
When I lost 70 pounds, did my hair and put on make-up and stepped out of my house one day, suddenly I realized that men noticed me and it flipped me out, because I never recalled that happening before. I wasn't overweight until I was about 28 years old, but I don't recall men noticing me before. However, I do recall not wearing make-up and trying to play down my appearance. Now, I try to avoid eye contact. Isn't that weird? I'm not saying everybody notices me like I am something hot or special. It is just that when you are somewhat fat and slightly dumpy, you are invisible.
I don't like people observing the way that I look, except I don't like them thinking that I am unsightly either. It is like there is no alternative. You are either invisible (fat), or visible (sexual/noticed). I think that it is my own hang-up that I think to be noticed is to be sexualized.
My dad, I discovered when I was about 21 years old, read pornography, as I found a stash of a whole bunch of it. My mother let me know that he had his share of sexual problems (like I really needed to know that - every hear of a thing called "boundries". You know, I'm the child here, or am supposed to be). She thought he was gay. He wasn't gay. He didn't have any gay porn. No, he was heterosexual, in my opinion. He and my mother had their marital problems, and in fact divorced when I was 21 years old.
My father's father once accused my godly grandmother of trying to attract attention to her sexuality by wearing a certain sort of belt. My grandmother is asexual for heaven's sake. My grandfather and my father were paranoid people, quite literally, and thought that people were out to "get" their wives, and desired them sexually, and they in fact had to go to some degree to protect their wives from others and protect their wives from the wives own sense of sexuality that may get them into sexual trouble. Two of my father's siblings have serious mental illness, and in fact schizophrenia runs in that family really badly and extensively. I myself am adopted and much to my mother's (and I suppose my) delight do not share the in their genetic pool.
Enough on "My Food and My Body" for today. Thanks for listening. Comments, feedback, questions?
posted by An Ordinary Christian | 7:10 AM
2 Comments:
I recognize the "whopper" thing. I would buy a family size pack of snickers and eat them all, one after the other. Didn't bother me nor my weight a bit. Now, getting older, I can't afford to do that anymore. It's easy to gain weight, but hard to get it off. Although I allow myself to splurge every now and then, hehe.
God's Grace.
I can identify with the skinny childhood syndrome. My girlfriend was like that/ She could inhale a mixing bowl of spaghetti with the meatballs and crusty Italian bread and not gain an ounce. While I on the other hand , gained weight just watching her eat!
Twenty years forward from that childhood I saw her, didn't recognize the person whose hormones added fifty pounds after each of her four children!
Me and my sister once ate a whole gallon jug of olives....I can't stand them to this day!
I'm still overweight, even though I lost 68 pounds...working on it keeps me busy.
When we get to heaven, we get better 'bodies'!(Or at least I hope so-Yikes!-I wouldn't want to get this one back again!)
Post a Comment
<< Home