Speaking for Everybody

When I worked in a small office, we had a going away party for a coworker who was leaving us for a better paying position with more opportunities for advancement. One of my coworkers, let's call her Bigloser because she had halved her body size with Weight Watchers, and I were trying to encourage our coworkers to show up to the party that night because they were talking like they wouldn't show up. One person was saying that she was too shy to dance. Since everybody thought I was shy because I'm a quiet person, I tried to show moral support by saying that I would dance if she showed up. Without missing a beat, Bigloser said, "River, NOBODY wants to see that." I believe that my reaction was to simply look at her and walk away. That night at the party, Bigloser bounced up to me and inquired, "River, why aren't you dancing?!" I looked dead into her eyes and said, "Bigloser, nobody wants to see that," and walked away.

I think my body language delivered the message more clearly than the words. I wasn't embarrassed or ashamed. I had a point to make about the weight of careless words. My head was high, my voice clear and steady, and my face stony. Here are your words. Choke on them.

I spent most of my life believing the people who claimed that they just wanted to be honest with me because they were speaking for everybody. They believed that I deserved to know that people refused my invitations to see movies or go for hikes because I was fat. They believed that I needed to know that men are visually stimulated by thin women and would never be attracted to me as long as I was fat because everybody is turned off by bodies with jiggling adipose tissue. I didn't have to be thin, but if I could just lose enough weight to get rid of the unsightly rolls I would fighting off the guys with a stick because I am so intelligent, pretty, kind, understanding, forgiving, accomodating, and loving. I'm the perfect woman, but I'm just too fat to be attractive.

I got the exact same lecture from male friends, female friends, and total strangers. If someone was alone with me for more than 5 minutes, they just wanted me to know that my life would be so different if I wasn't fat because I'm such an amazing person. If I wasn't fat, the world would lay out all of its treasures for me because I'm an amazing writer, a compassionate person, the kind of person who gives away the last of my money to help a band I believe in or provide lunch for a hungry friend, or whatever it was that made that person think that I'm someone deserving of the treasures of the world.

All of the working, sweating, vegetables, and virtuous eating humanly possible did not earn me the treasures of the world. It earned me the praise of people who ended up taking advantage of me and hurting me in ways that nobody should ever be hurt.

In the last year, the world has begun showering me with the treasures I was promised. I have confidence, love my body, and have friends who think that I am beautiful as well as all of the other things that people have always appreciated about me. I am fatter than I have ever been because of all of the starving I did and it has not stopped the world from opening up to me. Those people who spoke for everybody would be so embarrassed to know that thinness is not the magic key that they believed it was. They should be ashamed of themselves for so cavalierly saying words that they knew would hurt.

So, what's the magic key? Not believing people when they claim to speak for everybody. That simple thing makes it possible for me to be myself without embarrassment, excuse, or apology. When I am joyous about who I am, people joyously love me. Those who don't, can hang out with people they love. I'm not interested in what they think about me. I think they know that because they don't try to lecture me for my own good anymore. Those who do, quickly find out they are called to task for trying to speak for "everybody."