The other day I was working, and I was wearing one of those outfits where you know you look damn good. It's a black dress, with a flower pattern that accentuates all my best features. So there I am walking around like my shit don't stink, and I catch a conversation about my legs. It was two "men" and I use that term lightly for them. They said in Spanish essentially that my legs resemble fat tree trunks. Out of all of the things in the world to talk to about, these guys decided to talk about my legs in my awesome dress. Not just about my legs, but that they resemble fat tree trunks. Which really what makes a tree trunk fat? Is there like a BMI chart for trees to decide which ones are skinny and which ones are fat?
I could have said something. I could have stopped and told them off, I could have done anything except for what I did which was walk away. I walked away while two grown men, one old enough to be my father, discussed my legs. My legs. These legs that have done me pretty well for the last 28 years.
These legs waitressed 50 hours plus while 9 months pregnant to provide for my unborn baby, because I had no one else.
These legs went to school after working a full day to make something of myself.
These legs attracted the most amazing man in the world, and even helped convince him to marry me.
These legs give my baby girl someplace to lay her head when she wants to cuddle.
These legs have worked countless hours to provide for my family.
These legs held me up for 3 straight weeks, with no food or rest while I watched him die.
These legs got me out of bed even when I didn't want to after he was gone.
These legs run 6-10 miles a week on the treadmill to keep me healthy.
These legs keep me going when I want to give up.
These legs don't give a shit what you have to say about me or my body.
These legs will wear whatever the fuck I want. Short shorts, bathing suits, dresses.
So to the the two douchebags who made me feel like shit about myself (and my legs) for about 5 hours....
You my friends would be fucking lucky to be anywhere near my FAT tree trunk legs. Quite frankly, it's obvious that you have very little mental capacity to talk about anything worth a damn. So check your damn self, and stay away from me and my INCREDIBLE, IMPRESSIVE, WONDERFUL fat tree trunk legs.
*mic drop
Showing posts with label judgements. Show all posts
Showing posts with label judgements. Show all posts
Sunday, August 13, 2017
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
Patton Oswalt
Patton Oswalt lost his wife around the same time that I lost Mike. He also has a daughter the same age as Olivia. Last week, news broke that he got engaged (congrats!) and of course the world has an opinion about it. Does everyone have an opinion because he's famous and engaged after being a widower for a little over a year? Yeah absolutely. But as a widow myself- everyone has an opinion about your love life when you are a widower.
Another blogger wrote about Patton Oswalt's internet trolls, and she made some amazing points. Some of my favorite from her article:
"You aren’t entitled to an opinion,” she writes, “You don’t get to comment on the choices of a widower while you sit happily next to your own living spouse. You didn’t have to stand and watch your mundane morning turn into your absolute worst nightmare.”
As Roman so beautifully puts it: “[Widows and widowers] know intimately that the price of love is pain. So if you see a widow or widower overcome that knowledge and choose to open their heart to that pain once again, instead of judging, you should be celebrating their bravery and fortitude. That much courage deserves a freaking parade.”
"And another thing. The person who comes after cannot and will not replace the one we lost. To imply that is insulting to the widow, it’s insulting to the new love and it’s insulting to the love who was lost. Earlier I said that I was happy to see Patton Oswalt’s heart had expanded. I used that word intentionally. I say expanded because thats what widowed hearts do. They expand. One love isn’t moved out to make room for someone new. An addition is built. Just like my love for my daughter was not diminished by the birth of my son, so too, the love widows can have for someone new does not diminish the love of the one lost. The expansion of the heart is part of the grieving process."
My best friend is a guy. He didn't know Mike, we met last year, his friend is married to my friend. He came into my life while I was trying to figure out how to be "Lindsay" not "Mike's wife" or "Mike's widow" or a "single mom" just trying to figure out how to be me. He makes me laugh, we have fun together, Liv loves him, my friends like him. We started to experience backlash from my friend, who originally introduced us.
Long story short- I lost her. She became toxic, she was so angry with me for spending time with someone other than her, and none the less it being a man. She sat across from me and said "How could you celebrate Mike's 1 year death anniversary and have him standing next to you?" "How could you introduce a new man into Liv's life so early after losing her dad?" She made it her goal to do everything possible to make sure him and I didn't spend time together, literally obsessing over when he was at my house and where he slept when he was here.
At the end of the day, I'm 28 years old, I'm single, and it's my business. I have to answer to no one. Just because my husband died, why does it all the sudden give everyone the right to weigh in on when I should start dating (which is funny because him and I aren't dating) or quite simply who I hang out with. Right now, I just want to finish school and focus on Liv and work on rebuilding myself. I understand that our relationship is unconventional, but right now it's what I need.
Then there's the opposite of my friend, the people who think I should be married and pregnant by now. I can count on two hands how many people told me at Mike's FUNERAL, that I would move on and get married again. Yeah, I probably will...but I don't want to hear that at his funeral. When that time comes I'm not going to be replacing Mike. Like Erica Roman says, my heart will expand, I'm not replacing one husband with another.
Another blogger wrote about Patton Oswalt's internet trolls, and she made some amazing points. Some of my favorite from her article:
"You aren’t entitled to an opinion,” she writes, “You don’t get to comment on the choices of a widower while you sit happily next to your own living spouse. You didn’t have to stand and watch your mundane morning turn into your absolute worst nightmare.”
As Roman so beautifully puts it: “[Widows and widowers] know intimately that the price of love is pain. So if you see a widow or widower overcome that knowledge and choose to open their heart to that pain once again, instead of judging, you should be celebrating their bravery and fortitude. That much courage deserves a freaking parade.”
"And another thing. The person who comes after cannot and will not replace the one we lost. To imply that is insulting to the widow, it’s insulting to the new love and it’s insulting to the love who was lost. Earlier I said that I was happy to see Patton Oswalt’s heart had expanded. I used that word intentionally. I say expanded because thats what widowed hearts do. They expand. One love isn’t moved out to make room for someone new. An addition is built. Just like my love for my daughter was not diminished by the birth of my son, so too, the love widows can have for someone new does not diminish the love of the one lost. The expansion of the heart is part of the grieving process."
I wish I could high five this woman, to say she hits the nail on the head is an understatement. I haven't written in my blog as much as I like recently because I have been using my spare time to try and figure stuff out.
Long story short- I lost her. She became toxic, she was so angry with me for spending time with someone other than her, and none the less it being a man. She sat across from me and said "How could you celebrate Mike's 1 year death anniversary and have him standing next to you?" "How could you introduce a new man into Liv's life so early after losing her dad?" She made it her goal to do everything possible to make sure him and I didn't spend time together, literally obsessing over when he was at my house and where he slept when he was here.
At the end of the day, I'm 28 years old, I'm single, and it's my business. I have to answer to no one. Just because my husband died, why does it all the sudden give everyone the right to weigh in on when I should start dating (which is funny because him and I aren't dating) or quite simply who I hang out with. Right now, I just want to finish school and focus on Liv and work on rebuilding myself. I understand that our relationship is unconventional, but right now it's what I need.
Then there's the opposite of my friend, the people who think I should be married and pregnant by now. I can count on two hands how many people told me at Mike's FUNERAL, that I would move on and get married again. Yeah, I probably will...but I don't want to hear that at his funeral. When that time comes I'm not going to be replacing Mike. Like Erica Roman says, my heart will expand, I'm not replacing one husband with another.
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