TMI Tuesday: Knowing & Trusting Your Body
Today’s TMI post is about Knowing & Trusting Your Body and how others try to make you mistrust yourself or simply call you a liar. If this is triggering for you, please come back tomorrow for the regularly scheduled post. Thank so much.
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Knowing & Trusting Your Body…
And your experiences inside that body! Yeah, I said that. Why would I say it? Because, y’all, I had a moment the other night when talking to my husband about my dental work history (because part of my temporary filling broke off and I need to get in there to have it fixed) that made me realize that not only does my husband not remember shit, he also doesn’t trust my own experiences within my own fucking body. Don’t get me wrong, I love the man like no one else on this earth, but I felt invalidated and vulnerable and so I have this newest experience to share.
All of this turned into a discussion about all of the work I’ve had done on my teeth and what I still need. When I went into why I still have a temporary filling on a tooth that needs both gum surgery and a permanent crown he asked why I hadn’t had it done. OMZ! A.) We have no money! B.) the first time I had the same procedure done I came home with my face bruised on one entire side and my lips completely lacerated. It was so bad I almost couldn’t stand up long enough to pay. The ortho-surgeon knew it, too. He knew he was extra rough with me. He even made a fucking joke about it after. ASSHOLE! The moment I paid the tears came and the shitty receptionist look horrified (yes, she was rude and shitty, it must be said) as I ran to my fucking car!
It took me a couple of days before I called my own dentist to complain about the surgeon he referred me to. When he heard about my experience and the injuries that resulted he apologized profusely and insisted he will no longer refer his patients to him. I was in such pain and pretty shaken up that I think it triggered some old stuff at the same time, too. (Though I only realized this last night when retelling this story to my husband.) I felt fucking violated! To top it off I had to do the salt rinses for a month after until the stitches healed and I got my permanent crown installed. When I told my husband that I remember it so clearly because he gave me shit every single day and insisted I wasn’t doing the salt rinses correctly even though he wasn’t actually witnessing my doing them? I almost lost my temper. Almost, because then he mumbled something about my possibly not allowing him into the bathroom to inspect me. ASSHOLE!*
I knew at that moment that nothing I fucking said would make a damned difference. He did not believe me when I shared my own experience in my own body. Sometimes this is just the way of the world, even when you think you know a person, man, they can surprise you. And this isn’t the first time. This happens to fats the world over. Sadly, it even happens to those whose lives are filled with FA goodness. Ha-ha! He still doesn’t believe me when I say you cannot eat your way to diabetes (if this is the first time you’ve heard that sentence click here and read the comments, too). When I said that to friends one night you would have thought I took a shit on the floor in front of them (okay, not really). But jaws did drop and I was quickly shut down.
And this happens all of the time when you’re fat. Maybe not always because you’re fat, but I feel like it happens more when you are. We are called liars by our doctors, friends, family and dentists and treated much differently than our thinner counterparts. I had a dentist (not my regular one, he rocks) ask if I ate a lot of candy. When I said no he insisted, “There’s no candy bowl at the office? Hm?” I was infuriated! I mean, the nerve! But there it is folks, your good fat word isn’t good enough for the non-fat sometimes. So I am making it my personal mission that when this comes up again, because let’s face it it totally will, I will look the person dead in the eye and say slowly and clearly, “Really?! You are telling me that my own experience in my own body is a lie? You have some nerve and I would rather speak to someone who will talk to me like an adult human being!” We’ll see what happens. Ha-ha!
What have you been told was a lie when it obviously (to you at least) wasn’t? Have you been invalidated by someone you love? Tell me all about it.
*Yes, I can call him that, but no one else. Please do not for one second consider calling him names.
**Also, I am still accepting “Dear Auntie Fats” questions for an upcoming weekly advice type column. Please email any/all questions: notblueatall@notblueatall.com
I love TMI Tuesday!
I find it so much more tough to deal with (the second guessing) when it’s your family or spouse. My husband’s reality is so far from mine… I can really relate.
Yes, mine, too. I’ll admit that we’ve had the diabetes discussion multiple times now and he still just doesn’t get it. The fact that he does have diabetes in his family and I do not, this doesn’t matter for some reason. He believes everyone is suseptible to diabetes and that it’s more diet than anything else. I think he’s finally starting to realize that this isn’t true, but he’s a stubborn Taurus and I’m a stubborn Scorpio, makes for some fabulous times, but things like this? Neither of us will budge. Ha-ha!
(smacks your hubby upside the head a la Jethro Gibbs)
My own brother refuses to believe every doctor I’ve ever seen who tells me my blood pressure is textbook normal. He’s also certain that I suffer from extreme constipation. For the record, I don’t and have never been inclined to that particular problem. But he’s absolutely certain because he just knows this stuff because it’s true, so there. And I have diabetes. And high cholesterol. He knows this because I’m fat and therefore don’t eat any vegetables even though I get a big box of them from my CSA every two weeks and cook them and they disappear magically from the stove or salad bowl every night. I can’t be telling the truth about that because I’m still fat and that wouldn’t happen if I ever allowed anything green to pass my lips, so there.
And yet when he was living under my roof and off my charity, he would never eat a vegetable that was separate from the meat or starch. He’d only eat them in stews, soups, casseroles, or hashes. Mostly he lived off of bread and butter… and he would go through a pound of butter nearly every week. That’s with me not getting a tiny sliver, because he was eating it all.
Also, he’s eaten my cooking and still thinks I’m a lousy cook. Funny how nearly everyone else I know would willingly line up around the block overnight to get at what I make, but he knows I can’t cook.
Feel free to call him any name you please.
Ha-ha! I remember you telling me a bit about your brother before. I’m sorry, hun. That’s some terrible stuff. I feel for you. I constantly hear stuff like this about family members. I think my husband is just now understanding how much he’s been taught was wrong. It’s difficult, for sure, but I do think he’ll come around eventually. I honestly believe that he’s going through something internally. He’s an introvert, no doubt, but he’s also about to hit 30 and probably a tad depressed. Thirteen years together, I learn to go with the flow until he starts to open up, finally. Sometimes it is harder than others.
Sadly, this is common for many people outside the norm or looked down upon. We just cannot speak to our own experience because, well, LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES!!!!!!!!
I mean, shit.
I ended up being sent to a sport doctor once–think I told you about this–for my problems with my feet and legs, which I’ve experienced since I was a child. But to get phys. therapy, I had to see him. We had the weight convo before he even examined me and before we talked about my phys. history. He insisted the problem was my weight. Somehow he thought, despite what I told him about my history of problems, that the pain I was experiencing was just from being too fat. We went round and round and he was not happy or respectful because of course he didn’t believe me. When he finally tested the flexibility of my feet, I heard him gasp under his breath because, surprise! I did actually have a severe problem that wasn’t just fatfatfatfatfat. Most people’s feet can bend up twenty degrees. Mine bent up -1 and -5, and that’s with me bending them up and all his force against them. If it’s not clear, that’s means they didn’t really bend up at all. This came as no surprise to me as I’ve lived it all my life and well, I fucking told him so. He still didn’t budge about the weight, but after he was sure I wasn’t going to go on a diet, he failed to mention exercises which I might do without increasing pain. So basically, he didn’t really care about me moving and eating well unless there was a weight loss goal.
It’s bullshit. And I agree, it’s hard when the disbelief comes from someone we love. It’s so frustrating.
Also, that dental surgeon? FUCK HIM!
Yes and yes and yes! I had a similar issue when I broke my foot on the job. The physical therapy doctor (who had to approve the therapy itself) insisted I didn’t break my foot (though the x-ray said otherwise) and that I just needed to lose weight. It’s such utter bullshit. All I can think of is how can we get to medical professionals? How can we reprogram? Kidnappings? Conspiracies? Someone, come up with a plan, ’cause I’m already in! Ha!
I have had my experiences dismissed, negated and disputed since I can remember, and even now that I am confident enough to stand up to those who do, it STILL happens.
It started with my family. Every experience, emotion and belief is negated by them, and this is why I no longer have any contact with all but a few.
From when I was 12 years old, every doctor I went to for 20 years dismissed my health problems as just being fat. I was accused of cheating, being in denial, minimising and downright lying by every single doctor I went to when it came to my eating and exercise. The pain and discomfort I felt with various menstrual issues were dismissed as my being dramatic, or being overly sensitive.
I have spent most of my life suffering an eating disorder. Because I am fat, it is deemed not possible that I starved myself, purged and exercise binged to the point of exhaustion.
My personality is extroverted. So every emotion I express is dismissed as “being dramatic” or “attention seeking”.
But by far the worst moment of experience dismissal for me was when I confessed to my ex that I had been sexually assaulted, and he suggested that perhaps I was clinging to an event in the past a little too much. I felt like it completely erased my ability to express the pain and trauma that I still feel about what happened to me.
And it is bullshit like that that makes me keep fighting! You know someone has never been or experienced trauma if they can brush aside someone else’s. Ugh! I’m so sorry, Kath. Sadly, it is these instances that I think make us stronger and more resilient. It shouldn’t have to be this way, but it is just how it is for now. Thank you for sharing your experiences with me. <3