Do these pants make me look fat?

Some people have an inept way of making other people feel like crap. You ever notice that? Like how you can be having an absolutely awesome day, and then—then some jerk flips you off when you switch lanes. Or some lady gives you a dirty look when you’re standing in line, waiting patiently for your double espresso. Why is she looking at me like that? Do I look fat in these pants? Is my hair not lying correctly in the back? Do I have a booger hanging out of my nose?

It’s amazing, isn’t it, how one slight glance from a stranger can send a perfectly good mood into the trash. And when you think about it, it’s downright ridiculous—because most of the time I do not look fat in my pants, my hair behaves quite well, and I since I always check my nose in the rear-view mirror before entering any store, I know I am booger-free.

But. What about the people we know? Friends. Family. Neighbors. Lovers. Coworkers. What about the people who aren’t strangers … the people who know us the best … what about the times they say things so painful it’s as if they launched a dagger through your heart. Is the pain they cause intentional? Or is the pain spurred on by our mind?

“When you look at the dark side, careful you must be. For the dark side looks back.” ~ YODA

Because the mind likes to play tricks on us. Because be it a complete stranger or a close confidant, the right words can alter one’s disposition from lofty and lovely to painfully crappy when our minds allow us to imagine the worst. And that’s why I try to smile at the young man bagging my groceries, at the girl making my double espresso, and even at the stupid lady giving me the dirty look. Because quite possibly it isn’t me she’s disgusted with—even if my mind wants to wander down that path—rather it’s herself and the crappy little world she’s immersed in. 

As for those aforementioned “people who know us the best,” when they utter the words that drop us me, I have an inherent ability to shrug that shit off. Most of the time. Not because I’m so confident that words can’t hurt me, but because I’ve mastered the ability to gloss over things … be it good, or bad. And quite frankly, what I’ve come to understand is that those “people who know us me the best,” don’t really know me at all. Because if they did, then they’d know the damage those words can do. They’d know what triggers a fall just like they’d know what encourages me to push forward. And quite frankly, those are the only people whose words really matter.

BTW if indeed these pants do make me look fat, please tell me. Chances are I won’t believe you anyway (wink, wink).

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DISCLAIMER: I’m a writer and editor. And I try my best to make sure every post is articulate and free from errors. However, being that I edit my own work—and it’s next to impossible to properly edit your own work—I admit, occasionally there may be an error or two I miss. But doing so doesn’t make me an idiot so don’t be mean. Just smile, pat yourself on the back for finding an error and be glad you’re not the only one who makes mistakes sometimes … xoxox

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