Discouraged

I'm a pretty feisty person, to say the least. I'm not one to back down from an altercation, in fact you'll usually find me front and center, willing to argue until everyone involved (except me of course) is exhausted.

I'm not sure if its a positive trait or a negative one, it probably depends on the situation. I like that your average stranger is usually taken aback by my willingness to engage, as I think the relatively benign, mom-of-two facade throws them off.

But yesterday I was faced with the meanest of means, and by that I was truly taken aback. B was working and my sister had come up and we enjoyed a nice picnic in the park and play time on a rare sunny spring day. Later, after the kids had napped and my sister had said goodbye, I told the kids I would take them for ice cream. We went to Baskin Robbins because they have the "pointy" cones, of which K-squared had requested.

The shop was crowded with no place to sit, so I got each of the kids a cone and one scoop in a cup for myself, and we headed outside. Unfortunately the wind had kicked in again and it was too cold to eat outside, so K2 suggested we head to the car. I had K1 stand by his door while I went to put K2 in her side. I'm holding my cup of ice cream, K2's cone, and trying to help her get buckled into her seat. In the process, the seatbelt gets dragged across the ice cream, and I'm working to clean that up.

As I do this, a car pulls up wanting to park in the space right next to me and having to *gasp* wait because I've got K2's door open while I'm putting her in. My back is to the car but they gun the engine in an effort to get me to move I guess. I look back at them, shut the door around me as I continue to help K2, and mutter about not being able to wait 5 seconds. The car pulls in, and out gets a girl and a guy out of the front seat, and a third girl with a 2-year old child on her hip from the back (I actually don't notice any of this at first, because I'm focused on K2). As the girl with the baby gets out and walks by me (with no trouble, I might add) she heaves a big heavy sigh and says "f***in fatass." WHAT?!?!?!?

I slam K2's door shut and said "What did you say to me?" at which point she said "You heard me." I walked up to her on the sidewalk and suggested she repeat it, to my face. She again said, "You're a f***in fatass." I looked her up and down and said "really? you're calling me fat? really?" and she replied yes. I then told her it was a fine way to talk around her baby, and as I stepped back off the sidewalk I told her she was a real winner. I got K2 in the car while this group headed into the shop, all the time looking at me and laughing. As I walked back around to my side of the car, I grabbed my brand new cup of ice cream, deliberately looked at them looking back at me, smiled and waved, then dumped by dark chocolate and peanut butter all over their car. The guy came running out as I drove away, and let me tell you, it felt good.

Then, I called B and proceeded to sob out the story to him. And this is the thing: these people were nothing but low-life scum. And truly, I don't use that description for many people. But trust me when I say it's an accurate use of the term. So why do I care what this uneducated woman, who was obviously showing off to her friends and must be an entirely miserable person if she's capable of such nastiness to strangers, thinks of me? It's because the fat-thing is my Achilles heel. Everyone has a weakness right? Something they are sensitive about? Well, that is mine. This woman could have insulted my intelligence, my looks, my place in this universe and it would have been water off a duck's back. But call me a fatass and she's got me sobbing for the rest of the afternoon.

I HATE this about myself. If there was one thing I could change it would be that. This overwhelming insecurity that rears its ugly head all too often and in the most inappropriate of times. And then some stranger comes along and is able to derail any confidence or self-esteem I might have. This is my problem, I get that. This woman has probably spent no more time giving me any thought (except of course, for having to scrub off the sticky, melty ice cream - haha). So why am I dignifying her disrespect and cruelty with anything more than slight annoyance? I don't know.

All I know is that I am 31 years old, I have a wonderful marriage and happy family. I have two beautiful children that I gave birth to, and I am capable of playing and running around with them and doing all the things I need/want my body to do. So when am I going to get over this stinking insecurity???? And how in the world am I going to keep all of this from K2??