A is for Ass

N is for Name

Names never leave me.

Grandpa had one of those unfortunate names: the kind of name people always reference when discussing horrible names. Dick Biggers. After my grandparents divorced, my grandma took back her maiden name. My mother didn’t want to hyphenate. My mother. I sometime wonder if her maiden name was a prediction, an omen for what was to come, or something she was running from. She found me sitting on my bed surrounded by the remaining pieces of my Precious Moments comforter.

“What could be so bad?”
“Nothing.”
“Melissa.”
“That’s not my name anymore.”
“Okay. What’s your new name?”
“Big Fat Melissa.” She knew the book; she gave it to me. Closing her eyes, she saw her take a deep breath. I started to feel guilty when her eyes filled with tears.
“I always hoped that you wouldn’t have to go through what I went through; I hoped you wouldn’t have to struggle with weight.”

It would be years later that I would understand how very painful it is for my mother to see me in pain. The next day I started my first diet. My mother thought losing weight would make everything right again: “They can’t call you fat if you’re not!” It’s funny; my family also thinks ice cream makes everything better.

posted by CV @ 3:36 PM