It finally happened. One of my grandchildren called me fat.
Before he did that, he asked, “Why do you have such big butt?”
I answered something like, “I just do. Just so you know, it’s not very kind to point out the size of someone’s butt, so you might not want to do that.”
I thought I was done with it.
I was feeling particularly bad about myself that day as I had been eating poorly lately. Later, I wondered if my bad feeling drew this comment out? If I had been feeling positive about myself, would he have even noticed my butt? Over the past year, I had lost about 55 pounds, but had recently gained about 8 back. Could he tell the difference? Why was I thinking that what I did or thought had elicited this comment from my grandson? While I can own my big butt, can I own and control the comments and thoughts of others about it?
If you are someone who has struggled with large body parts that appear at times to offend and get in the space “owed” to others, you most likely have had these thoughts too.
Less than 15 minutes after my grandson asked about my butt, he upped his game. “Grandma, your fat!” he said in a more derogatory manner. This time, I also upped my game. I told him that people come in all different sizes and shapes, and it hurts their feelings when people call them names. I said it was just like someone saying to him, “I hate your glasses! They’re stupid!” I said that he must not ever say mean things to people; it will get him into trouble, it is hurtful, and people will not want to be around him or be his friend.
Let me be clear: Kids hear and see things and develop opinions and judgements very early in life, even before they can articulate them. I don’t think my grandson would have said, “Grandma, why are you so beautiful?” He knew, on some level, that my size was not socially acceptable. However, I again didn’t want to make too much out of it, giving it more importance than a 6-year-old-calling-you-fat should get. I feel that, if anything, this can solidify the notion that fat is “bad” and “wrong” and “ugly.”
This is not the first time a child has pointed out that I was fat. I remember, years ago, shortly after having my third baby, when I visited a friend’s house. We were holding our babies while watching our older kids play in the back yard. I was standing by the swing set, and my friend’s two oldest said, “Why are you so fat?” I calmly relayed a similar message to the one I gave my grandson: people are different, and I’m fat, and that’s OK, but pointing that out can hurt people’s feelings.
I handled it, just as I’d always done.
But this time was different. My friend called later that evening and insisted on bringing her kids over to apologize to me. I didn’t want this! I had taken care of it! It was embarrassing and uncomfortable to have to listen to her children’s well-rehearsed apology and say that I forgive them, and then repeat some of what I already told them. I wonder how much of the whole process they even understood. (Note: years later, I talked to one of these kids about that event. She didn’t even remember it.)
I agreed to do this because this was my friend, and I didn’t want to judge her style of teaching her kids a lesson. But, I asked myself, why was it my responsibility to be a pawn in that lesson? (At least, that’s what I felt like.)
I have not mentioned a word of my grandson’s “observation” to his parents. I’m an adult, I’m fat, and I can stand up for myself. It would serve no purpose other than make a bigger deal out of the situation than is warranted at this time. I know my grandson (like most children) was testing his boundaries and testing reactions to things he sees at school or on TV or with his friends: He’s learning social skills and morals and kindness.
So, did I bring this on because of my poor feelings about myself? No. But getting over my lack of self-worth and insecurities is my problem, not my grandson’s or anyone else’s. I did my job with him, and I handled it.