We always hear the stories about people mistakenly being asked if they were pregnant. It has been a long-standing joke and faux-pas in our society, and the people who ask the question usually end up far more embarrassed than the person that gets asked. Now, when I used to watch the shows and movies that this happened in, I just laughed, because that never actually happens, right? Wrong.
“One night, we had a brother and sister come into the vet clinic about fifteen minutes before close. Of course, they ended up being there past closing time…and the brother was a bit of a creep. While his sister was in the room with the doctor and her dog, he kept trying to flirt with me and was being generally slimy. He kept asking personal questions, had studied my nametag and talked about my name, filled me in on his life story, and kept trying to look down my shirt.
Now, I am a fairly tolerant person. I was fairly certain that there was some sort of disconnect and that he wasn’t quite right; perhaps due to substance abuse, but it was hard to tell at the time. I very studiously deflected his attentions and continued with my closing duties. Until…
“If you don’t mind me asking, are you pregnant?”
I was floored. I COULD NOT believe that he had actually asked me that! At this point, I was incredibly flustered, and was unbelievably grateful when my supervisor finally resurfaced a few minutes later and sent the man into the exam room with his sister.
I went about my night, finished closing out the office, and drove home, flustered the entire time. How could he ask me that? Did I look it? My coworkers and friends all gave an emphatic “NO” to that question, but were they just being nice?
I knew I’d gained a little weight recently, primarily due to stress, but was it THAT noticeable?
I was haunted by this. For weeks, I stopped eating. I wore baggy clothes. Any time my boyfriend wanted to do anything physical, I couldn’t…not because of him or that I didn’t want to; I just was so self-conscious and felt so disgusting that I couldn’t bring myself to take off my clothes. I didn’t see myself as beautiful, and my normally self-conscious mind became vicious.
It took me nearly a full month to be able to take off my clothes in front of him. I hesitated to wear a cute outfit to a party, because I felt like a hippo. I’m not a big girl, but genetically I have a pear-shaped body. I also eat what I want when I want, because life is too short to do anything else. I’m usually pretty confident in my skin at this point, but this…I was shaken to the core, and I still am. I stopped eating as much, and I stressed about my appearance every day.
I still haven’t really gotten over it, but I’m working on it. It’s going to take a lot of time, and I’m going to hurt for a while. Hopefully, someday, I’ll love myself again. Until then, I’ll just have to appreciate my inner beauty and not obsess over my appearance.”