So you’ve gained a couple of pounds…

**WARNING** This post contains a lot of numbering. I was feeling list-y.

This post was originally inspired by a status update that my cousin posted today. I couldn’t let it go and now it’s grown into something I had to rant about. But, since I was in the shower while this rant was growing, I couldn’t get it out onto my computer…and it kept growing and eventually branched off. I may have to write another post today to cover the branch.

Anyway, my cousin posted this earlier today.

 “When did I get fat? U all don't even know. I can't find anything to wear without showing a roll. Time to starve myself and work the beep out.”

Some things you need to know about The Cuz :

1. She has always been incredibly skinny except in one key area. Which tends to make other women insanely jealous. But that’s only because they do not understand the pain of being skinny with epic breasts. Being skinny sucks. (That is the branch I was talking about. More on it later.) Having big boobs sucks. Are there worse things? Yes. But they don’t pertain to my rant so for now they don’t exist.

2. She’s not really the kind of girl to go around whining on her Timeline about crap just to get attention and compliments. She’s not that girl. (And if she is, I owe her an apology.)

Eighty percent of the responses she received basically told her that her feelings were unjustified. Four out of five people told her that what she was feeling was wrong. Can you believe that? What kinds of friends do that? Oh, right, the kind that think they’re being helpful. That fifth person that didn’t invalidate her was me and I’m pretty sure I’m now the bad guy because of it.

I’ve been in this position before. I’ve made the mistake of posting about weight gain and loss on Facebook before. For the most part all of the responses I received were crap about how I didn’t need to lose weight, I was already skinny, blah blah blah. That’s nice I suppose. But it made me feel like no one gave a crap about what I was feeling, what I wanted, or what I was trying to accomplish. I thought friends were supposed to be supportive. Supportive does not mean trying to deter someone from a goal or trying to convince them that the goal isn’t even there. Yes, I know I’m not overweight. But if I’m feeling fat because all of my favorite clothes refuse to button, please don’t tell me that I’m not. Because my mirror is telling me that I look like a stuffed sausage in the jeans that my fingers are sore from trying to force the zipper on. And to me, that means I’m fat.

Now, I kind of understand the people trying to tell her she’s not fat. Because by American standards, she’s not. Even if she’s gained ten pounds from the last time I saw her, I can guarantee that her BMI is still well within the Normal range. (I just cut a piece of that branch out of here. Oh ADD rantings, how do I love thee.) So no, she’s not fat. She probably shouldn’t have used that word in her status update. But semantics is not an excuse to invalidate feelings. In her world view she is fat, and so you need to respect that.

What really burrowed under my skin though was the one chick who told her that being fat was okay, that those rolls were earned with motherhood. EXCUSE ME?? WHAT THE #^($? Giving birth to a kid is not an excuse to get fat! (Branch trimming again!) Aside from the complete falseness of that thought, The Cuz gave birth over four years ago. If weight gain was because of the pregnancy, it would have happened five years ago. GAH!!!

So anyway I’ve created a handy set of lists.

OKAY FOR STATUS UPDATES  - The key here is to not say you’re fat or seem like your complaining too much and /or feeling bad about yourself. All that will get is sympathy and people telling you how perfect you are. Try to come across as health conscious.

   1.   I’ve been slacking at the gym and gained a few pounds. Better get back to my routine.

   2. The Easter Bunny’s leftovers have been hell on my waistband; none of my jeans fit. Better buy less next year.

   3. I can’t afford a whole new bigger wardrobe! Guess I better be more diligent about my health.

NOT OKAY FOR STATUS UPDATES – Anything that sounds like you feel crappy about yourself. That will just get all your uber nice and/or overweight friends riled up and start a flood of responses about how perfect you are.

   1. I’m fat!! No more eating for me!

   2. I hate how I look! Maybe I’ll go get a gym membership.

   3. I gained five pounds. The world is ending.

OKAY RESPONSES TO POSTS -  What you want to aim for is supportiveness.

   1. I’m not an airline; I don’t put weight restrictions on my friends. Wanna go hang out this weekend?

   2. Congratulations on losing x lbs! I’m glad you reached your goal and now feel as beautiful as I’ve always thought you were.

   3. I put on a few pounds too, want to hit the gym together?

   4. I’ve been using this app/diet/supplement/trainer to lose weight. I’d be happy to give you some tips that worked for me.

NOT OKAY RESPONSES TO POSTS - Your opinion is not at the center of this debate, your friend’s is; please keep that in mind.

   1. You’re not fat! Your entire wardrobe is lying to you, let’s go rack up a credit card and replace it!

   2. Being fat is totally okay!! Ignore those health risks like heart disease and diabetes, it’s all lies.

   3. Why were you trying to lose weight? I liked you better when you were a bigger. (I seriously got this exact response once. The weight he was talking about had me firmly in the Overweight BMI category. 170lbs at 5’2” is NOT okay.)

   4. I hate you for losing weight! I’ve been trying for years and failed every time. You suck!

Have we all learned a little something today? Try being a supportive friend, I can guarantee your friends will like you for it. Even if the person posting is the kind that’s just looking for attention, try to respond with something helpful instead of just platitudes. Empty words get you and them nowhere. But if you offer support, a shoulder to lean on, an open ear, or advice, you’ll actually be making a positive change in some one’s life. Would you rather your friend starve themselves skinny or change their eating habits to become healthier? Would you rather watch your friend lose their eyesight to diabetes or go to the movies with them when you both have grandkids? Would you rather watch their ass get progressively wider or firmer? Help your friends to make healthy choices at the same time as making them feel good about yourself. The rewards will last much longer that way.

Pageant Aftermath

There are some things in life that I know I’ll look back on, shake my head, and wonder what the Hell I’d been thinking. Actually, I can think of a handful right now and I’m not even half way through my life expectancy.

I look back now and wonder why I thought it was a good idea to date a man ten years older than me when I was seventeen. That was just not okay.

I look back and wonder why I thought it was a good idea to go to Mexico with three guys I met while waiting tables at Denny’s. Even though I did end up marrying one of them.

I look back and I wonder why I didn’t try harder in school. Or finish college. Now the best job I can hope for is answering someone’s phone.

I look back and I wonder why I didn’t enjoy my graduation trip to Europe. I could have had so much more fun if I hadn’t been so damn angsty.

I look back and I wonder what made me think that hurting myself would ever make me feel better. I have a ton of scars now, and because of some weird genetic code, those scars will stay forever. (I still have a scar from scraping my knee at the ripe old age of five.)

I wouldn’t classify any of these things as regrets; they are all things that have contributed to making me the woman that I am today. I grow and learn from everything that happens to me. The things I’ve experienced have given me wisdom to pass along and share with others, and I’m willing to do that for anyone that asks.

The newest event to make this list in my brain is the 2012 Mrs. Alaska America pageant. Not in a bad way though. Up until now all of the things that make me shake my head in wonder have been negative in some way. I finally have a good one in there. Not to say that nothing good has ever happened in my life. But, most of those things were either planned that way or happened by accident. I know that sounds weird and doesn’t really make a lot of sense, but I can’t think of a better way to put it.

During the pageant preparation process I looked back and I shook my head. What was I thinking entering this? What on earth made me think that I was pretty enough to be in a pageant? I was surrounded by beautiful women. Why did I think that it’d be a good idea to put myself on a stage to be judged? I grew up with some major self-esteem issues. Some were handed to me by a step-father that didn’t know how the words he spoke to me would affect me. Some were caused by being overweight.  And some just appeared out of the hormonal wreckage that is the teenage brain.

I went into this with this as my outlook on life: I’m just a stay-at-home mom. I’m a nerd. I’m average looking. I’m nothing special. I’m shy. I’m not the kind of person that was meant to have a lot of friends. I love my son beyond all reasoning and nothing will ever come before him, even if that means I don’t get a social life. After twelve years, I still think my husband is hotter than any hunk on a romance novel cover. I write trashy novels, miss racing cars, feel most myself when I’m playing a character on stage, and am only a little ashamed of my RPG past.

Now that the pageant is over I look back and shake my head. Why didn’t I do this sooner? Why was I so scared? What in the world made me think I wasn’t good enough? How did I not see that sometimes the best way to not feel judged is to be judged?

I didn’t win a single prize or award during the pageant. And ten years ago this fact would have sent me running for a knife. Or maybe to the piercing studio. Thankfully I’ve grown out of that phase in my life and I just go running for a quiet corner to give my mind time to process the situation. Does it hurt that I didn’t win ANYTHING? Absolutely.  I wanted that crown and sash, or at the very least one of those big bouquets that said I was really, really close to that crown. I wanted one of those medals that said everyone thought I was the nicest person there, or that I had the prettiest wedding photo, or that my head shot was the most amazing piece of photographic brilliance. None of the official judges, the optional judges, the pageant staff, or the other contestants voted me as the best of anything. But, after a week of contemplating this, I’ve decided that I don’t mind that much. And here’s why.

I’ve been told that this year’s pageant was THE year. That our class was an exceptionally good one and that it’s not always as wonderful an experience as it was this year. I’m proud to be able to say that I was a part of this record-breaking class and I’m proud of myself for growing the balls to do it in time to meet these exceptional women.

I didn’t walk out of that auditorium with a crown, or a medal, or anything else that I didn’t walk in with. If you count that apple I brought with me and ate, I actually walked out with less. What I did walk away with wasn’t anything physical; it wasn’t anything you can hold in your hands. What I walked away with is in my heart and in my head.

I have twenty-one new friends; seventeen fellow contestants, two directors, and two former sash wearers. I have a support system that will always have my back. I have the confidence to look in the mirror and like what I see. I know that I’m courageous enough to do anything, whether or not it’s in my comfort zone. I’ve never been in a better place than I am right now, and that’s a direct result of entering the pageant.

I’m still a stay-at-home mom. I’m still a nerd. I still miss racing cars. I still put my son first. I still can’t get enough of my husband. But now I also categorize myself as a beautiful and confident woman; and that’s something I’ve waited for almost thirty-two years to be able to say.

I can’t count how many times in the past week that I’ve been asked how I feel about the results of the pageant. I’ve been told that I should have at least been in the top three. I’ve been told the pageant results were unexpected. All I can do is listen patiently while these people rant; I believe in letting people express themselves. Then I tell them that every contestant this year and I, am proud of this year’s winner’s court and couldn’t be happier with the choice of Vicki Sarber as Mrs. Alaska America 2012.

They never believe me at first. Maybe it’s because they think all women are catty and backstabbing. Maybe it’s because they love me so much that they can’t believe I wasn’t the best choice. Maybe it’s because, in their years of pageant experience, they’ve never seen such a supportive group. Whatever their reasons are, all I can do is smile and tell them that I respectfully disagree. After spending two days with these women, I grew to love every one of them. Every single one of us would have done that crown justice and made our state proud. Whatever made the judges choose Vicki as the winner, it was justified because she’s the perfect woman for the job. She’s a charismatic, beautiful, intelligent, kind, fun, and loving woman. She’s a wife, mother, friend, and true Alaskan. She is Mrs. Alaska America 2012 and she has my full support.

And if anyone has a problem with that, they’ll have twenty-one beautiful Alaskan women to contend with. All these women have been hitting the gym for the last few months to prepare for the pageant, and more than a few of them are gun enthusiasts.