Sunday was Easter, which means family get-together. I have barely any blood relatives left, and only my maternal grandmother lives nearby. My husband has a big family, and his mom's side are all local. His parents asked if we wanted to bring my grandmother and have Easter at their house with his brother and his girlfriend. Sounds good, less driving, less leftovers to tempt me in our house. We've gotten together for a few holidays by this point, so it's a lot more relaxed. I was pretty much breezing through the weekend.
Until it came time to pick out my outfit.
I'm going to admit right now that part of the stress was because I hadn't kept up on the laundry and I should have figured this out the night before. I started trying on outfits with an hour to spare. I asked my husband to come upstairs so he could tell me whether or not it would be an outfit my nan would judge.
(Please let me emphasize that she's actually a smart, hard working, sassy, hilarious woman with a huge heart. This is just a bitching post.)
Yes, this is something I always worry about anymore. And this is another topic for another day, but she helped contribute to my adolescent weight gain by letting me eat whatever I wanted when she was watching me on the weekends. She had a weight problem herself (it's part of the reason my SOB grandfather left her). My grandparents made my mother paranoid about her weight and the way she looked, and she in turn passed that on to me. I used to do the most ridiculous things in high school as I would yank on my thighs and do exercises in my room from Seventeen magazine and sit in front of the mirror in shorts so I could make sure cellulite didn't show. As I gained weight into my 20s, I wore big ugly clothes and didn't know how to flatter my size. When I started watching
What Not to Wear, I had the revelation that clothes that fit
well make you look better! But I come from the family that insists that baggy loose clothing of the Dorothy Zbornak collection will hide your weight.
I used to panic about how I looked in front of my husband's family. Now, I don't worry so much. They are very athletic and slender people, and they are very supportive of my lifestyle change and weight loss. It took 40 pounds and me opening my mouth for my grandmother to start making any positive comments. Those comments were mostly along the line of "you're shaping up well." I'll take it, ok?
When my fashion choices started veering into the dress territory, my grandmother suddenly had a lot of opinions. My wedding time period was torture. She
still bitches about the dress I wore to my wedding shower. Look, I know it wasn't the most flattering, and my spanx were obviously showing in pictures. And yes, my ripples could not be tamed.
I get it, ok? It really wasn't the best purchase, but I thought it was cute and reminiscent of the Julia Roberts horse racing dress in Pretty Woman. But stop freakin' bringing it up!! I also wore a cute red dress to the rehearsal dinner. Once again, it was around the same length, and she kept whispering at me how she didn't like the dress and how I should not be wearing stuff like that. Then I got all decked out in my wedding dress the next day (and I don't need to post pix, you've seen plenty if you follow this blog), and she never once told me I looked beautiful or pretty. And she had ample time to do so. I was never so hurt by her. I think she said something during our first dance (yes, I did a grandmother-granddaughter dance to Here Comes the Sun as my parents have passed), but that was it.
I was more worried about my outfit this past Sunday than I was about cooking the main course. I ended up wearing one of my new dresses (despite knowing it would be a casual atmosphere) and broke every rule of hers:
-My hair was pulled back (and it desperately needs a trim).
-My arms were showing with no cover-up.
-The dress was just above the knees.
-No makeup as always.
-Every single one of my tattoos were showing (at least she didn't notice my new one).
And I think I looked adorable.
I ended up spending most of my time in the kitchen so I could do the ham (seriously, my recipe is amazing) and so I could chat with my mother-in-law since it had been awhile. My nan was cool with that, she's very social and adaptable. But she managed to attack me for my physical behavior three times.
1. I bent over to pet the dogs. Yes, I would have squatted if anyone else was in the room, but no one else was there. Of course I had to get snapped at with the hand motion that you can see right up my dress.
2. She was standing in the kitchen doorway while my husband was there. I had to bend over to open the oven and manipulate the heavy pot, and of course I had to hear about the back of my skirt again. I gave up and just let my husband and mother-in-law handle that part.
3. Later, I was sitting behind the end of the counter. My mother-in-law was in front with her back to me. I had my left leg crossed over kind of lazily. I'm not stupid....if someone came around, I would have dropped my leg. My grandmother magically appeared in the doorway and told me with hand motions yet again to uncross my leg. I ended up snapping at her, and I really feel bad that my mother-in-law had to witness that (though she pretended like it wasn't even happening).
I was spared for the rest of the night, but I was so self-conscious. I know how to not flash the goods, despite what those wedding shower spanx pictures show (for the record, I had my legs together as tightly as possible that day.)
All my nan kept talking about on the way home was how she's made an effort to clean up her mouth to be a better person. She's converted to Catholicism and just had to do penance on Holy Thursday. She emphasized how ladies just sound awful when they talk like sailors, especially the older they get. She went on about how her mother would have been so disappointed in her.
Mind you, I have a potty mouth around those I'm comfortable with, but I also know how to NOT SPEAK LIKE A SAILOR, OK I GOT THE HINT.
I don't need to be told how to be a "proper lady," whatever the fuck that is.
I know she's 85 and stuck in her ways and ideas about etiquette and how women should act and look. I know I should just ignore it and brush it off my shoulders.
But when she's pretty much the only blood family member I have left, it's kind of hard to do that. Especially when she started sounding exactly like my mother. Oh man am I glad it's a therapy week.
If we have a child, I don't want to give him or her any of my body confidence issues. I want to get healthy and fit now so I could be an active and fun mother who doesn't worry about her looks in front of her child. But at the same time, I'm afraid that what I knew and grew up with will slip out. I know it's a common fear.
I just wish that I didn't feel like a nervous 15 year old at 33 years old. I wish I could just "let it go," but there's often that innate need to "please" your parent. I hate how I feel like a defensive child when she's around. I love her so much, but she's driving me crazy. I want to feel comfortable and excited about my weight loss without hearing someone say, "Good, you have to do it while you're young or you'll never get rid of the stomach." Thanks, I had no idea. Sigh.
Anyone else have family members that constantly nitpick about the stupidest things in regards to your appearance?
.jpg)
.jpg)
