Did they suspect me of being the source of bad odor? I carefully sniffed around my groceries. Yes, there was a nauseating smell, it emanated from a bag of onions, already awaiting by the turntable to be bagged!
Why am I writing this? How can it be important, that my onions smelled?
I am a large woman. To be exact, I am a short woman, but of the generous proportions. A year ago I would've just buried my suspicion that, people, in their derision of the fat humans, thought, the smell came from me. I would've buried it and it would've been another source of pain, eating at my self-confidence.
- "You are projecting." - I imagine, would be Mr. P.'s firm verdict.
 |
| Mr. P. |
- "But!" - my self doubts make me sick, but I am unable to deny what, I think, is the truth.
- "You don't know for sure, whether people thought that you smelled. We must live in the present and avoid imagining, what might have been. Only that, of which we are sure, really matters".
And it's true: I have no proof of the others' judgment of me. The cashier readily accepted "the onions" solution to the odor mystery and took them off my bill. The couple behind me could've been reacting to something else, like having to wait too long, while I dawdled at the register.
Oh, no, I dawdled for too long and made people annoyed!
Just kidding!
I absorbed a little bit of recovery through my sessions with Mr. P. and from a few Al Anon meetings. I don't let myself feel, like I'm dying of embarrassment, every time I suspect someone of judging me for my weight or accent. Some, probably, do, but their recovery is still ahead of them, so I have a tactical advantage over them!
"Maturity is moving from a thin skin and a hard heart to a thick skin and a soft heart" Donna Amis Davis.
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