Pizza night

So, I just got a taste of some of the harsher aspects of being Jessa. And I'm not talking about the period, which is well over with.

I've mentioned before that Friday night is pizza night at the Gilbert household - the one night of the week it seems like everyone can unwind and relax. We were watching TV - American's Funniest Home Videos, which I'm sure I would have found stale even 14 years ago the first time around. Everything was going okay, "Mom" was asking about my day and everything and I gave her the simplest answers, least likely to provoke any kind of follow up discussion (you know, like a real teenager) and then after I finished my slice I went back into the kitchen for another.

When I came back, she asked "What do you have there?"

Confused, I answered, "Um, pizza."

"Isn't that your third slice?"

Um... yeah? And?

"Honey, I just worry. We spent all this money on new school clothes for you, I don't want you to... outgrow them."

I froze, and then kind of chuckled, "Are you fucking serious?" 

I didn't even think anything of it, because my mom is pretty relaxed about that kind of thing but Jessa's mom clearly isn't. She snapped "Language!"

"Jessa, don't talk to your mother like that!" 'Dad' stepped in.

I was starting to get angry. "She's not my--" I blurted out, before stopping myself and - I can't believe I did this - running up to my room. With the pizza slice, of course.

I sat there, in this pink and purple room, stewing because everything about my situation is bad enough - I do not want to be here, I don't want to look this way or have people see me this way or be talked to this way... I didn't expect to be criticized for eating an extra slice of pizza when I was still hungry. Tears were welling up in me, which made me feel even worse, because I hate crying and I've done a fair amount of it in this body already. I fell to my side clutching one of Jessa's many stuffed toys for comfort, sort of leaning into the whole "teenage girl" thing.

Eventually 'Dad' came up.

"Hey sweetie," he said... which made me shudder because it's one of the first times I've been feminized more than being called by Jessa's name. "Do you want to talk about that?"

"Not really," I snapped. "She can't tell me how much to eat. That's... it's not fair!"

"Your mom just has some... concerns." he said. 

"Does everyone around here just think I'm some fatass?" I sneered.

"We--" he stammered, "No, honey, you're beautiful."

I know that he used that word because it's normally what teenage girls want to hear about themselves but I couldn't have cared less and that made things worse.

"We disagree sometimes over how to handle some issues with you kids sometimes. She has her beliefs, I have mine... it's actually not as much about you as you think. I'm sorry that you get caught in the crossfire."

"Whatever," I said, still seething about getting talked to that way and not really letting his words land on me.

"Your mom does know it's a sensitive subject. She's trying to help in her own way."

That didn't comfort me at all. I would rather she just stay out of my business and I bet the real Jessa would agree. He told me to feel free to come down whenever I wanted to apologize for yelling. I thought, it could be a while. 

It's funny. I'm not a temperamental person, I don't yell or anything in my normal life, but this situation has really put me in that place. Different hormones are sending different signals to my brain and changing how I would react to stuff. It's like being on a drug. And it's not like this is a situation I would have had to handle in my previous thin male life. Being in this body means I can't be the "me" that I expect to be, at least not in a situation like that, under pressure or caught off guard. I really am reverting into a teenager. It's weird, and kinda scary.

After he was gone I took some time to calm down and write some of my thoughts out. I meant what I said about how adults shouldn't talk to kids like that, scolding them for an extra slice of pizza. It's true that I find certain things in life harder because I'm currently chubby. It's unexpected because I was always naturally thin in high school and I ate whatever I wanted. So I literally never worried about it until my body suddenly "became" this way.

Do I deserve to be punished or talked down to because of that?

And don't treat it like a failing of Jessa because her body is the way it is. Maybe she'll lose weight. Maybe she'll gain it. Maybe she'll stay in this awkward middle ground her whole life. What does that have to do with her as a person, you know? It's gross to hear. Just let people live.

It sucks that Meghan - Jessa's little sister - has to grow up in this environment. I wonder if she eats less because she's afraid of turning out "like Jessa" and disappointing her mom.

When I was a dumbass teenager myself, I probably would have felt free to mock someone like Jessa because it was the popular thing to do. I hate that about myself, even though I - 29-year-old Andy - have grown past it. Somewhere out there in 2002, I'm not there yet, and it's bothering me. I probably would have thought, if she wanted life to be easier, she should just lose weight, it's a choice she makes not to be thin. Which is stupid. I'm telling you right now, 2002 people, that's not cool.

After an hour or so, and eating that slice of pizza in bed, I came down and gave Jessa's mom her fake apology, barely able to look her in the eye as I said "Sorry I yelled at you" and she coldly accepted it. My mind was still reeling inside because of all the different ways this was very messed up, but if I don't stow it away, this experience is going to be a lot worse than it needs to be. So I play along.

They were watching the show that came on after AFV... get this. It was some hourlong drama I don't even remember called "That Was Then." It's about a guy who fucking time travels back to his high school days. Look it up.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Night. 

Comments

Ok, this blog is weird. I mean, I get the whole mom foisting her own body image issues on you. Yay you for standing up to her! But what's this whole "I'm really 29" thing? You're not a time traveller, you're a girl who is awesome in her own way!
By Anonymous
Sept 28, 2002