Courage

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Today I am grateful for courage.  In the past few weeks I have witnessed true courage at the pool at the YMCA and I am forever changed.

I realize that this missive will not speak to everyone, but it might speak to you or someone you love.  It’s no great secret that I am a very large woman.  There, I said it and I’m not even the one with courage I speak of.  I’ve been larger and I’ve been smaller, in other words. . .I’ve lost and gained the same bazillion pounds a bunch of times.  It is a constant struggle, but I do my best.  Sometimes my best is better than other times.  Currently I’m up, moving down.  Slowly.  Very slowly.  But it beats down, moving up, with rocket speed.

It is not always easy for me to put on a swimming suit every day.  I do it anyway.  I’m not blind.  I know what I look like, dimply legs, floppy stomach, sagging. . .well. . .everything.  But I love the pool exercises so much that I have risen above self-doubt and childhood voices telling me I should never go out in public with any flesh showing, not to mention a lot of flesh.   Really I have.  Most of the time.   Occasionally.  Today anyway.  And today is all that counts.  My courage vacillates as frequently as the next diet miracle.

I know the kind of courage it takes for many people, primarily women, to allow themselves the luxury of being real and accepting their bodies as they are.  We bravely wear sleeveless, even though our arms flap like bat wings.  We wear a short skirt because our legs are great, even though our belly is watermelon-like!  We refuse to pad around in black and opt for primary colors.  We wear our hair long when we’re old, or very short when we’re fat.  Those of us who are zaftig, believe we are the only ones with these issues.  We believe our thinner sisters have no body issues.  We’re wrong.  Everyone has something.  It’s so difficult to not beat ourselves up; to not compare ourselves to the unrealistic body types we see on every red carpet; to not buy into the air-brushed, no wrinkle, no cellulite babes in magazines.

If we feel that way, then what about those who carry more weight than even we can imagine?  Where do they find the pool shorts and T-Shirts in what must be a 6, 8, or even 10X? What kind of bravery must it take for them to come to a pool?  How do they muster the courage to expose their triple knees, rolling backs, and drooping bellies?  I’m sure I don’t know.  I can’t speak for them.  I only know what it takes for me and some days it’s a lot.  And I know that there are two very, very courageous people who are.  I see them a couple of times a week at the pool.

I want to jump up and shout, “I’m sooooo proud of you!  You are the bravest, most courageous people I’ve ever seen!”  I want to tell everyone in the pool, “Look!  Look at these brave, brave people!”  I’m close to shouting, “Applaud everyone.  Applaud.  When you are that heavy, just the act of deciding to come to a fitness center is incomprehensible, but the POOL?  Applaud!”  

But I don’t.  I don’t want to draw attention to them.  Their body language and lack of eye contact indicates that they already draw too much attention just by their size.  So I say, “Hey, howyadoin?”  and “Wow, finally some decent weather.”  And they smile and throw back a response, with a look that says, “Are you talking to me?  No one ever talks to me.  I’m invisible.”   And I want to bawl.  Hard.  Because I’ve been there. . . judged instead of seen. . .ignored instead of talked to. . .sneered at for my size without any thought at all for my feelings.  Have you?  Have we all for one reason or another felt invisible?

They water-walk, or swim laps. . . and I do water aerobics.  I never forget for one minute how grateful I am for their courage.  If these brave, brave souls can go public, be exposed literally and figuratively in the most vulnerable way. . .if they can rise above their issues. . .then so can I.  They are trying. . .against the most enormous odds.  Bless them.  In my heart I am saying, “I’m so very proud of you.  I don’t know your story, but I know invisible.  Never forget how courageous you are!  I see YOU!  I’m glad you’re here!  Bravo!”   Applause all around!