You know those moments that stay with you forever? It doesn’t matter how much time has passed, you can still remember everything that happened… including (and especially) how you felt. It probably isn’t always at the front of your mind, but when it comes back, it comes back hard. Yesterday I was reminded of one of those moments. It occurred almost twenty-five years ago, and yet my cheeks flush and my heart starts to pound like it just happened.
When I was in high school, I spent a lot of after-school hours at the public library. There were other kids who were there on a regular basis, but one afternoon I somehow ended up sitting alone with this one guy. I’ll call him J.D. I remember the sunlight coming in through the windows. I remember the open books spread across the table.
I remember J.D. suddenly blurting: “You would be pretty if you’d wear makeup and lose weight.”
Thank god by the time this picture had been taken,
I had at least taken the makeup advice.
I saw a picture of J.D. for the first time in about 20 years the other day. And my first and immediate and overwhelming thought was of that moment in the library when I was 15, J.D. “offering” that great “advice.” Back then, I thought J.D. was super cute, and I wanted him (or any boy) to like me. So while his words hurt so very much, I remember thinking how right he was. Not only would I be pretty if I started wearing makeup and stopped being fat, but then a cute boy like him would finally like me!
Me in 1989, a fat freshman in the school musical.
Back to the present: About two weeks ago, I stopped wearing makeup. (Well, I still put on a little mascara, but it’s progress.) I’m doing this because I want to be okay with the ‘naked’ face I see when I look in the mirror. It’s a struggle, let me tell you. I have been wearing makeup for more than twenty years, so to see myself without eyeliner is really startling. I don’t feel very pretty when I see that makeup-less face. I want to, and I think (hope) eventually I will, but it’s definitely a journey.
Me, present day.
Without makeup, but with an awesome BFD gift from Laurie!
When I think back to that moment in the library, my cheeks burn not with embarrassment, as they did then, but with anger. Anger that I didn’t have the guts to say something to J.D., to call him out on his thoughtless and hurtful “advice.” I’m sure I’m not the only women who J.D. has criticized over the years. I wonder if I had spoken up, had called him out on his behavior, if I might have changed how he treated women. Maybe. Maybe not.
I bet J.D. doesn’t remember that moment at all. I don’t even know if he remembers me. But today I thank him for being a jerk, just as I thank the guy in college who looked at me, baffled, and said, “Why are you so fat?”, just as I thank that girl I tutored my junior year who said, “You have really good self esteem for a fat person.” Those moments, those embarrassing and upsetting and horrible moments, have helped to bring me here, to make me into the person I am today.
So, J.D., as thanks for that important and life-altering moment in the library a quarter of a century ago that you probably forgot the minute after it happened, I am going to walk out my front door with my still-fat body and no makeup on my face. Thanks for the memory – and the motivation.
