It's My Body, Not Yours

I recently had a very hurtful phone conversation with my father. It helps if I explain up front that my relationship with my father from the cradle to this point has always been filled with what seems to be equal amounts of love and tension. This stems from the fact that I'm a naturally strong-willed person and my father (for his own private reasons created during his formative years) is a controlling person. Maybe the problem is also that in many ways we are too much alike.

That being said, his need to exert control over my body, specifically, began when I was about 15 years old. And it took on several forms:

I could wear these clothes but not those.

I could wear this lip gloss but not that one.

Certain powders were ok but mascara was not.

I was too heavy for my height, and then I was suddenly too thin (hello, that's called a growth spurt).

I could eat these things but not those, and I had to eat foods that he prepared a certain way because that was the "normal" way to have them. *sigh*

I didn't feel as physically or as mentally bad as I was supposedly pretending I did.

My body wasn't reacting in the ways that I said it was (I've actually been living with pre-rosacea since I was about 15 years old, as well).

And, on and on and on... I think we all get the picture by now.

At 18 years old, I moved out on my own, but the harassment didn't stop. Almost every time I interacted with my father in person (and more often than not it happened even over the phone), I was met with the same statements and pressures about my physical being. For almost 12 years his need for control became so extreme we didn't even speak to each other. However, late last year, we began mending fences after a couple of health scares in the family.

But, I should have known that what lurked within our tattered and tense relationship before would sooner or later resurface. It began when I started getting sick again last year with what turned out to be massive rosacea flares (it took a year to properly diagnose this). During that time because of all the triggers, I lost quite a bit of weight. And, that was also when the harassment started again at full force.

I was told I needed to gain weight no matter what, that I didn't look healthy, and that I didn't look pretty. I was told that my feelings and my health and my rosacea flares couldn't possibly be like what I said they were... that having consistent flare ups was better than being "too skinny." Ummmm... yeah, excuse me, hell no. Those flare ups hurt and cause severe damage!

This last time he started in during that recent and unfortunate phone conversation, I just let him rant and took it, silently... like I always do. It was only afterwards that I felt both guilty and angry for not defending my body.

I wish I had said, "My body has worked hard to balance back out after being diagnosed with a very difficult chronic condition. My body does its best to protect me every day by warning me away from triggers that can cause damaging and painful inflammation. My body allows me to participate in this life and work towards achieving my goals. My body does not owe a certain physical look, societal standard, or perceived prettiness to anyone. Get your comments off my body. It's my body, not yours."

Oh well, maybe next time...