Today, at my local community pool, my comfortable, family-friendly, walk-to-almost-daily pool, an older lady insulted me. In front of others. It was so unnecessary and rude, I was speechless until I managed a weak, practically apologetic response.
I let the comment eat away at me all afternoon, and thought of all the great comebacks I could have given. Unfortunately, we are never prepared when someone, especially a complete stranger, decides to ruin our day with some fresh bullshit. I wish it was cool to come back up to someone hours later with a carefully crafted list of sassy responses. Mine would be bulleted, of course, and I would yell them and wag my finger right up in her smug face. Which I would then punch. But this post is about something greater than reactionary face punching.
After a roller coaster of feelings this evening, I saw a great blog post in my FB feed, and after I read it, I realized it was exactly what I needed. Not only did it make me feel a hell of a lot better, but it plucked me right out of my blogging dry spell (I know, it has been a while since my last post).
Let's get to the scene: I took my son to the pool this afternoon. I wasn't feeling particularly excited about it because I sprained my wrist a few days ago and have to be really careful - however, 80 degrees, sunny, and an earlier promise meant I was going. In case you were wondering about my wrist, I regained the ability to type with two hands just this morning, though it feels a little achy. I'm sure tomorrow I'll regret all this typing.
I wore my workhorse swimsuit, meaning the no-frills navy blue number meant for being an active parent (if need be) at the pool, without worry of flashing any lady parts. It's quite plain and maybe even conservative by some standards. I do own a couple of flashier/swankier/more feminine suits, but those are reserved for out-of-town vacations where I pretend to be glamorous.
What I'm getting at here is that I am not one to call attention to myself at my village pool. I've also never been particularly comfortable in a bathing suit, because like I've been doing since I was an idiot teenager, I still spend a little too much time focused on my imperfections, and not quite enough time giving zero fucks about what people think. I am much better than I used to be, though. More on that in a bit.
After half an hour or so of sunning, I was feeling pretty roasty and my son was yelling for me to get in the water. I took off my arm brace, then braced myself (ha ha) as I started down the main pool steps into what I knew would be cold water. Holy crap it was it ever cold. You know that paralyzing cold after your skin has been sizzling in the sun? That "uh...yeah...never mind I'm good" kind of cold where you believe more sun is the way to go, and you're racing through lame excuses to turn around? So it was like that level cold.
I was in almost to my hips, waiting for a few kids to splash by before lunging forward to get it over with. So I took a deep breath, and,
"Yeah, suck that gut in."
What the? That voice was right next to me. That was spoken to me. I turned toward the voice and it was an older white-haired woman, my guess is in her late 60s, but besides that, rather nondescript. A complete stranger. There were several other adults and children around us, but she was absolutely talking to me: as I sucked in air to take a plunge, she accused me of, or believes she observed me, trying to suck in my stomach...and she had to call that out. Loudly. Like what the fuck is even the point of that?
I half squinted and said, "Ha, yea no it's cold."
I quickly dove in and floated away from her, toward my kid, more aware of my body than I'd been all day...and probably all damn week.
Then, instead of playing with my son, I watched her intently from the edge of the pool because I hated her so so much from that moment on. Her shitty comment made me take inventory of myself, and every single move I'd made since I got to the pool, and the fact that it bothered me so much...yes, you can finish this thought...that's what really bothered me!
Ultimately, it doesn't even matter, but for the record, I don't actually have what I suppose one might refer to as a "gut." I don't have the waistline I did 20 years ago, but for being a few days shy of my 40th birthday, for the full life I've lived, and how much I love good food (omg), I'm satisfied. It took a long time and hard inner work, right up to this year, to feel this way, and there can still be tough moments, but they are much fewer and much further apart. I take care of myself, and I'm great health inside and out. I suck in my imaginary "gut" for pictures though, like you do. Or maybe sometimes when I swagger into a room like I own that shit. Shoulders back, chest out, and chin up. I rock it.
Fuck that nasty geriatric bitch.
Now wait - I'm above that super mean thought, I promise - that was to illustrate where I was earlier, in the pool, floating in my stupid hurt feelings. Reverting to my primal, less evolved self just for a little bit.
So with all this rah rah I'm finally good and satisfied, self love, blah blah, why did this comment bother me so much still? Why am I letting it matter? I've processed all my stuff, I think, and I'm owning it. So what gives? That essay brought it home -
It's not about me! Thats it!
It's about her.
What bothers me...no, what saddens me, is that this mature woman, this grandmother (I'm assuming a grandmother, as she was playing and bobbing with a couple of toddlers), felt compelled to say something like that to another woman, as if to shame her. What kind of self-hate does she still have going on inside, at her age even? If she can say something so tactless and mean to a complete stranger, I wonder what kinds of comments she reserves for the people close to her? For the other women in her family? Did her little granddaughter hear what she said to me? Perfect, lady. Reinforce that crap. Way to go, asshole.
Had she not opened her mouth, she would have struck me as a rather elegant person, enjoying the pool with her grandkids, laughing and playing and also giving zero fucks about how she looks to others. That's the kind of old lady I want to be at the pool one day. That's the kid I want to raise. Can we all be that kind of person right now?
By the way, that super helpful post I mentioned early on was here.
