The one chance...

So as you can probably guess, throughout high school and college nothing I did was good... not good enough- GOOD PERIOD; not my friends, not my choice of a career, not my clothes. And good heavens if I did have a boyfriend...he must be a freak for liking a fat pig! And my mother would treat him like such, and sooner than later he would begin to treat me that way. After all, he got the cue from the horse's mouth! Which brings me back to my first post; at the age of twenty-nine, I decided to go back to school, possibly find a career that would give me security and better pay. I went to nursing school and graduated... passed my boards as a registered nurse in one of the most difficult states to test in! I was happy, working hard and making some new friends. A casual ad placed in the local personals netted me 3 responses, one of which was intriguing and exciting...this was Michael. Again, as I noted in the first post, he had his problems, but I did fall madly in love with him. He was sweet and funny, a nice italian boy. But I was stupid, and didn't realize that he was my one chance at happiness. How different my life would be now if I had known... If I realized that he was someone I could trust, no matter what, even through his faults, that he was sincere. Even though its been ten years since I've seen him I miss him everyday. He is married, and I do hope that he is happy...I love you Michael, and I always will...

Outside looking in...

I can clearly recall my first day of school and knowing that day without a doubt that I would hate it all the way through...and I did. I won't bore you with depressing story after depressing story, but suffice it to say that I certainly didn't fit in, and my mother's prediction of "no boy will ever like you" was right on target. If mother ever thought I wasn't listening to her as she assailed my self esteem on a daily basis, she was quite wrong. I can remember being as quite young and knowing that I was an embarrassment to my otherwise normal family. My mother would always say that I absolutely was not fat as a child, but that was only because if I were fat at that time then obviously since children don't control the food in their homes at this young age then maybe, just maybe someone would think she was resposible for my obesity; so it was said only to deflect any blame away from her...no no, she became fat as an adult, you see, when I COULDN'T stop her from ruining herself. But of course, the pictures from my childhood don't lie. After high school I did control my own food, and at times things did get better. I would lose a little... and it was good, if only to allow me to walk a little better, or maybe not feel so freakish. I can recall going on a diet with my much smaller sister and when her mere 20 pounds was gone and she looked fabulous, I trudged on thru the numbers, losing appox. 30 pounds. And as mother oohed and aahed over every new piece of clothing that my thin sister bought, she patently refused to acknowledge my accomplishment in any way. My older sisters who could see the frustration and shame on my face, would say to her, " Mom, Isn't you-know-who looking good, too?" She would turn her face completely away from me and say coyly,"Oh, she has a long way to go..." Why she thought it would kill her to compliment me I don't know. She would say to my sisters that she didn't want to compliment me because she thought I WOULD STOP MY DIET! I never believed it for a second. To allow me to succeed, or assist me in succeeding would take away her control to make me feel like a loser, a bad person, lazy, a glutton. This is what she thought, this is what she KNEW, and so she could not allow me for one second to believe otherwise.