I'll never forget the day my first love, J., body-shamed me. I was 21. We'd just broken up a few days before, and we were having one of those excruciating post-split negotiation calls where you "hash everything out" and "get it all on the table" and vaguely swat around the idea of MAYBE POSSIBLY trying to "make it work" despite all evidence pointing to the miserable but irrefutable fact that, despite your crazed love for each other, things just aren't quite right. The forever just … isn't there.
Except back then, I still sort of believed in soul mates, and back then, I thought he was mine. I didn't want to break up. I thought the forever was there.
It was a horrible time, and a horrible phone call, and I was in oh god so much pain. The pain only intensified when, mid-negotiation call, J. mentioned my recently having gained a few pounds as one of the reasons he didn't want to be with me anymore.
When I asked him how long my offensive body had been offending him, he sniffed, "A little while." When I asked him why he hadn't said anything sooner, he asked, "I mean, how are you supposed to tell your girlfriend her butt is getting big?"
Like I said, I never forgot it -- the precise language he used. The slightly goading tone of voice in which he said it. The way my heart dropped and sank like a stone in a river. That was it. We were done. And now I hated him (uh, on top of still being crazy in love with him). I didn't hate him for saying my butt was expanding -- everyone loves a big butt, right? -- but for the implication that my body wasn't OK or good enough as it was.
That conversation's haunted me ever since. So when I read about this sleazy-sounding plastic surgeon who made over a seemingly insecure woman into someone he found attractive enough to be his wife, I got a sad little lump in my throat. Why? Because I could imagine how she might have felt.
"The beautiful brunette was 40lbs heavier and was so unhappy with the way she looked that she couldn’t even look him in the eye during their first conversation. But David didn’t see her extra pounds, he just saw her potential and asked her if she was willing to go through a “Wonder Woman Makeover” which included liposuction of the chin, arms and thighs as well as a “Brazilian Butt” lift."
(Isn't that precious of him to offer her not just a makeover, but the WONDER WOMAN makeover!? Whatta guy!) Anyway, Veronica, 38, agreed to all his proposed body-scultping tweaks and essentially transformed herself according to his specifications. After he was finished making edits, Dr. Matlock asked her on a date -- on which he PROPOSED! And they got married!!!11 LOVE RULES THE DAY!
To be fair, the doctor seems equally obsessed with his own looks, and he's gone though a bunch of surgeries himself -- apparently he's had "liposuction and sculpting on his biceps, pecs, triceps and calves." The duo eat "carefully planned" meals every day to try to maintain their expensively sexy figures. He explains, "I watch my weight and I watch my wife's weight, too." (Gee, I'm sure she thanks you?)
Just take me now, because this sounds like the most tangled, messy, painful relationship I could possibly envision -- having a partner who's THAT dramatically, sickly invested in my appearance. Of course, it's not like Matlock FORCED Veronica to get all that surgery -- some part of her must've swallowed the idea that she wasn't pretty or slim or Brazilian butt-lifted or WHATEVER enough to deserve his affection. Which is sad -- if she's anything like me, she gets enough demonic self-talk from the confines of her own head; no need to have that sh*t levied at her from outside (especially not by someone supposed to love and accept her!).
Ever had a partner body-shame you, or make thinly veiled "suggestions" about ways you could improve? Ever done it to someone else? I'd like to hear all about it, plz.
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