OMG… You are so Skinny (%$#%&).

Being introverted and having extreme social anxiety, I am often confused by the nuances of social interaction.  I often require a lot of contemplation before I realize if someone is being snide, thoughtful, sarcastic, funny, or mean. 

If I am secure enough in being justly confused, I’ve learned to be very honest about that confusion.

This helps me from being very resentful later and assuming that whoever I was talking to MUST have been making fun of me.

Other times, I am unsure as to whether I am confused, and I stare blankly, unable to formulate a response.  

This inability to interact with others in any sort of natural way has greatly prohibited me in formulating friendships.   Basically, my awkwardness is so great that people tend to *get* that they shouldn’t try small talk with me.

That said, I’ve still somehow managed to form small little pockets of friends and acquaintances.   One thing that is new to me is friendships with women.  This means I now have entirely new areas of social interaction to be utterly confused over.

I’ve probably mentioned in the past that I have body issues.  No matter what my size, it is very difficult for me to not see someone grotesquely fat in the mirror. 

 Well, I recently went to lunch with some of my work friends.  We hadn’t seen each other since school let out two months ago.   About five minutes into conversation, one of the ladies tells me I’ve gotten very skinny over the summer.  Logically, I knew I had not lost any weight since they’d seen me last, but what a great word! 

Then another woman chimed in saying, “Yeah, I hated you for a minute when I walked in… :D.”  And it was just then that I saw a flash in her eyes that told me

 She

Was

                                NOT

                                                Kidding…

How do I process that?  Then I remembered there was no need to panic.  I’ve seen this kind of thing on TV before, and I was pretty sure this was how women showed they liked each other. 

Pretty sure…

So I took it as a natural girl thing.  This is how we women communicate with each other.  I gave an awkward smile, and, not wanting to come off as egotistical, I decided the logical course of action was to clear up the confusion.  Then there would be no secret hatred.   And I would not be getting all this attention.  (Did I mention I have yet to learn how to take a compliment?)

I informed them I had not lost weight since they last saw me, and I even gained a little bit.  It was obviously my great new shirt, which, in all of its super-cuteness glory, made me look skinnier.    No, they corrected me.  I was wrong.   They said my arms looked skinnier, so I pulled up my sleeve and showed them my arm had indeed not become skinnier.  They informed me I was wrong again. 

Not wanting to be like one of those stupid skinny girls who walk around all skinny and obnoxious and seeking praise by telling everyone how fat they are so everyone else is forced to compliment them…

I decided to do the unthinkable. 

Now, I am not really sure why in my head this seemed like the right course of action, but I then became certain that if I collected the strength and courage to tell them my real weight, all this awkward, odd compliment-ness would come to an end and I would be out of this hole I dug myself into of trying to convince these women I did not become skinny. 

So I said it…  

This did not help me.  They then mocked my courage, and laughed about how yeah, sure, they all weigh that amount too (insinuating they definitely did not weigh that amount).

I am thinking, in the future, the right response might just be, “Thank You, and I love your hair!”

Perhaps I need to watch some more TV to help me prepare. 
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All photos and drawings are by me.  They may not be amazing, but they are mine.  If you share them, please share where you got them.

Finding My Own Missing Piece: Lessons Learned by Being Single Part I

I was a late bloomer. 

I spent most of my childhood ugly and fat, and I spent the rest of my childhood believing I was ugly and fat.  Along with these beliefs, Catholic upbringing, and being reminded repeatedly as a child that I was annoying and “weird”, I grew up believing I was unworthy, annoying, and not good enough for any boy to like me. 

I got my first boyfriend when I was 17 and never looked back.  Each relationship lasted about a year, and each time (except one, who, at the time, broke my heart) I was the one who ended the relationship.  I was certain I had a one-year dooms-day timer.  A final factor in my doomed relationship makeup was that I often selected guys I felt were somehow below me, whether in status, looks, or social skills. 

More than love, I needed to be loved, and if guys had to live in fear of losing me, I wouldn’t have to live in fear of losing them.  I would finally be loved above all else, and I would be complete. 

I am aware this behavior is a bit sick, and it took me finally being single and willing to honestly look at myself to realize I was doing this.  We all have reasons of why we do what we do, and we will find those reasons if we are willing to see the ugly truth.  While I will not excuse my behavior, I will share that my choice in boyfriends may have stemmed in part from the first crush I had who actually seemed to like me back.  He was a good looking hippy who already had facial hair!  He seemed to like me, we kissed a few times, and then he set me up with his nerdy friend while he then hooked up with my hot friend. 

His nerdy friend was a great guy, and we spend a year together, with no real spark, but I didn’t really know what a spark was or that I should be feeling it in the first place.  Either way, that situation helped burn my perceived social ranking into my brain.  Hot guys?  They don’t want me.  

For better or worse, that is a bit of my history. 

Since those early relationship discoveries, I have spent almost my entire life in one relationship or another.  My single life consisted of a couple weeks or months at a time.  Being single was uncomfortable.  The usual questions crept up: Will I ever find love again? What if no one wants me?  What if I am too ugly? What if this was the best I was ever going to have?

This last relationship lasted seven years, a feat I didn’t think I was capable of.  He was a good man, and I regret many of my actions to this day.  I also know that the relationship needed to end and spent a great deal of time in the obligatory maybe-he-or-I-will-change-and-everything-will-be-good phase.  After this relationship of still not feeling complete, or healthy, or altogether happy, I finally made a change.

I decided to be single…

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Photo/painting by me.  All rights reserved.