December of 1979, I was rail-thin. The second-thinnest girl in my co-ed class of 200, and girl #1 was living on lettuce.
March of 1980, I had pretty much the same curves I have now. Yep, I grew wide hips and C cups in 3 months. The stretch marks have finally gone away but during my teen years my thighs and boobs looked I’d been clawed by a rabid sabretooth tiger. Of course, all my classmates developed later and at more normal paces.
Fast forward to any time beyond 1990 or so. I keep running into mothers of ex-classmates who always and sincerely find me much, much thinner than they remember. Am I thinner? Hell no, my stable weight had been the same for 20 years and about 5 years back it went up. But.
Their daughters got hips… their daughters got tits… their daughters got four kids in four years…
So every time we run into one of the Real Nasty Moms and she looks at me enviously and says “oh my God, you’re so THIN!”, Mom and me make pleasantries and once she’s left we give each other a rolleyes and Mom informs me of how many kids that ex-classmate has had and in how many months.
I’m not any thinner than I was, according to my bathroom scale. But my weight has remained a lot more stable than those of most of my roomies; some who didn’t have stretch marks as teens have them now (I do-ooon’t, I do-oooon’t!). And those Nasty Moms use their daughters as The Reference Point, so they see me as thin. Which I’m not.
Maybe you’re bigger than that woman’s grandson. Or maybe she mistook you for your Dad…
Sounds like my grandmother, but she died years ago. She didn’t have any excuses to hind behind, she just felt it was her job to make sure everyone that was overweight knew that she disapproved, even (or especially) grandchildren.
Little old ladies can be nasty without Alzheimer’s.
One time I was grocery shopping with my daughter, who was 8 at the time. We were next in line for the cash register, when I realised I had forgoten something, and told my daughter to stay with the cart, and that I’d be reight back.
I got back about 30 seconds later, and my daughter was near tears. The clerk behind the till was staring at an elderly woman, who had litterally slammed (with out physical injury, or this would have gone MUCH differently)my daughter out of the way, and butted in line ahead of her.
The woman looked at me and said “Old people get no respect anyway!”
I looked at my daugher, and said “It’s OK, Maggie, we have our whole lives ahead of us, and this lady… doesn’t, she’ll be dead soon, and that will no doubt stop her rudeness.”
The people who were waiting in line behind us, and had seen the incident go down actually laughed. The old lady’s purchases were quickly rung through by a non smiling clerk. When we faced her (the clerk), however, she was all smiles.
Of course, I know, this doesn’t apply to all (and probably not most) elderly people, but I do have something along the same lines to share.
My last apartment was in a residential area that had a good number of elderly people in it. Not mostly, but the older lady that lived next door and the three elderly residents that lived across the street (one older man in one house, two elderly women in the next) made up a good number of the people you’d see on their porches while walking down the street. The two women across the street used to wave to me on occasion when I’d wave to say hello (they’d always be out in the summer).
One afternoon I walked past their house carrying a six pack of beer. I wasn’t drunk (public intoxication isn’t my thing). I wanted to sit on my porch (second story, screened in… pretty private while I’m sitting in my chair) that Saturday afternoon and sip a couple beers while listening to music and reading a book.
Oh God the icy stares of death I got from that day on. Never another wave. Constant whispering when I walked past. The other elderly guy whom I used to talk to about the weather and baseball (lived next door to the older ladies) refused to say anything more than “hey” to me when I walked past after that afternoon.
Confused, I tried an experiment… I wasn’t sure if walking past their house with a six pack was the issue or if it was something else. I was walking with my ex-girlfriend past their house on the way to the store the next Saturday afternoon and saw them out, as usual. I decided to pick up another six pack to bring to my friend’s place that evening. Walking back again I waved (not holding up the six pack of beer, mind you, just waved hello) and the old ladies got up and walked inside as I passed. I heard one of them say “…not even married!” and the other said a longer sentence but all I caught was the words “beer” and “my God!”
Since when is what I do any of their business? Even if I showed up with a keg and several female friends, as long as I was a quiet and respectful neighbor (as I always was)… how is it in the slightest bit their business?
Sorry to go off on a bit of a rant from the OP’s topic… But I sometimes think that acting like a gossipy 13 year old girl comes back into play when the age of 70 is reached.
Of course, again, it goes without saying, this does not apply to everyone who is a senior.
This may be spot-on.
Old ladies are, in their own mind, basically surrounded by toddlers masquerading as adults. That police-offiver giving them a ticket? He was in kindergarten when they retired their job! That social worker telling them how to fill in thier socia Security card? She’s the granddaughter of that nice neighbour, and she still remembers her playing in the backyard with a full diaper !
Most people aren’t very sensitive to the feelings of a toddler. Toddlers are legitimate objects for critique, personal remarks, paternalizing advice, and pinches in cheeks. The fact that these toddlers have spent a couple years in highschool, college and having kids of their own doesn’t change the fact that they still remain toddlers to those elderly people.
Interesting story, clayton. I think after I managed to offend the neighbourhood by having a six-pack of beer, I would make it my life’s mission to see what else offends such delicate sensibilities.
I collect vinyl… so one hot afternoon I was sitting on my porch and decided to play a Sinatra album really loud to confuse them. They stayed on their porch but waved the other old neighbor over to point and whisper up my direction. That was the furthest I ever went.
Sometimes people–elderly or not–just say things that are hurtful without realizing it. And then sometimes they forget to keep certain thoughts to themselves and let them sneak out of their mouths much like a fart composed of words.
A few months ago, my oldest sister caught me off guard when she said, completely out of the blue, “Wow, you are small” with her attention at my chest. The only thing I could think of saying was like “Well, I know there are plenty of people that don’t mine 'em, so it’s cool.” Now maybe it would have been personally gratifying to retort with something with more bite to it, but I know she didn’t intentionally mean to hurt my feelings and I suspect she knew (immediately after she stuck her foot in her mouth) that she was being rude. She just had a momentarily lapse in judgement and I would have just been needlessly making things bad between us by lashing out at her. I didn’t need her apology or anything. But yes, comments like that sting and I still think about how it made me feel, hearing her thoughts impulsively put to sound.
In this lady’s case, she probably doesn’t realize that how hurtful her comments were. She may have even been thinking that she was being charming and flirty. A lot of people forget that body image is not just a woman’s thing; men don’t want to be called fat either. She was being rude, perhaps not intentionally, but rude nevertheless. So the next time she pulls that number on you, I would let her know. Because that ain’t cool.
Sometimes people–elderly or not–just say things that are hurtful without realizing it. And then sometimes they forget to keep certain thoughts to themselves and let them sneak out of their mouths much like a fart composed of words.
A few months ago, my oldest sister caught me off guard when she said, completely out of the blue, “Wow, you are small” with her attention at my chest. The only thing I could think of saying was like “Well, I know there are plenty of people that don’t mine 'em, so it’s cool.” Now maybe it would have been personally gratifying to retort with something with more bite to it, but I know she didn’t intentionally mean to hurt my feelings and I suspect she knew (immediately after she stuck her foot in her mouth) that she was being rude. She just had a momentarily lapse in judgement and I would have just been needlessly making things bad between us by lashing out at her. I didn’t need her apology or anything. But yes, comments like that sting and I still think about how it made me feel, hearing her thoughts impulsively put to sound.
In this lady’s case, she probably doesn’t realize that how hurtful her comments were. She may have even been thinking that she was being charming and flirty. A lot of people forget that body image is not just a woman’s thing; men don’t want to be called fat either. She was being rude, perhaps not intentionally, but rude nevertheless. So the next time she pulls that number on you, I would let her know. Because that ain’t cool.
