Judgey Judgey

“Tell me who do you think you see

You’re standing in your corner looking out on me

You think I’m so predictable

Tell me who do you think I am

Looks can be deceiving

Better guess again

Tell me what you see

When you look at me”

When You Look At Me ~ Christina Milian

As much as I harp on not being judged on my exterior or assumptions if you haven’t genuinely invested time into getting to know who I really am…I pretty much did the same thing recently.

The physical, exterior metamorphosis I was involuntarily forced through over the past 18 months left me feeling vulnerable, frustrated, unattractive, invisible, ruined and at times depressed. As a result I became overly sensitive (…yes, even more than my wonderful inherent levels) to perceived judgment. It was shocking to be smashed into a body I didn’t even recognize while at the same time cutting off all of my hair. I didn’t realize until the hair wasn’t there I’d subconsciously used it as a shield I hide behind in uncomfortable situations. I was having a conversation with one of the short-term supervisors of the new, new job (since now we’re at the new, new, new, NEW job). I went to flip my hair in my face a bit, as if to put a barrier between us while I pondered my approach but there was nothing there to flip lol!

It wasn’t until this summer I noticed I’d been avoiding going places or attending functions with family or friends to avoid questions, comments and stares that would be hurled at me. Even though I cognitively understood I didn’t have control over what was happening and profoundly prayed it would subside I didn't want to deal w/ those that had been waiting for me to fall off having a an opportunity to revel in it. I went to the movies a lot, it’s dark there and you don’t have to interact with anyone. I didn’t even want strangers to meet this alien imposter posing at me.  From never having complexion issues in life to having rough skin and bumps all over my face and weighing 45lbs more than my maximum ever overnight, it just didn’t make sense.

I was afraid those not connected enough to know and understand what was going on presumed me to be lazy, slovenly; someone unconcerned about health & fitness. I mean, outsiders wouldn’t know the medications and situations causing my once thick, long, healthy hair to break off and fall out in clumps, which led me to firmly decide against putting more chemicals on/in my body and ended with “big chop.” I feared strangers would perceive me homo/bisexual or militant. It didn’t help folks in my circle were making lesbian jokes about it that I laughed off while inside I cried.

I was used to the normal judgey judgey stuff from regular life. For instance while hospitalized this summer, I called room service to place my dinner order. Since I was having surgery and it was my last meal for a while, I said I wanted some kind of dessert. I saw they had strawberries and asked if they had whipped cream. Later in the conversation, she offered a side item for the meal and I declined but said my daughter would love that. She asked how old my daughter was and when I said 21, ol’ girl laughed and said, “Ohhh see that’s why your fast behind wants some whipped cream. I see your DOB on the screen. You was just out there being fresh and got knocked up at 16. Look at you!” *blink* *shrug* That’s normal. I'm used to that.

Based on a consistent history of knowing certain aspects of my life would always bring perspicacity and assumptions, I worked hard on presenting the outward image I wanted associated with me that wasn’t based on anything going on internally, spiritually or emotionally. As far back as I can remember, physicians have consistently said they were baffled my exterior didn’t match the internal; that I would never outwardly look as sick, in pain or troubled as my lab tests and situations showed I was. So to lose control of my survival and coping mechanism was difficult. I felt naked.

I don’t believe myself to be the baddest bitch on the planet nor an impeccable, unblemished role model but I’d hang out with me. I think those that have taken the time to get to know me (…ok, well the ones I actually LET in or allow the time) seem to think I’m ‘aight. I work to keep the mindset of those that don’t know, try, judge or assume, their loss and it doesn’t diminish my existential value.

Soooooooo…I had to check myself recently when I almost looked past a true treasure based solely on the peripheral and personal parameters put in place and policed by me. Ironically, what caused me to take a second look was the realization this person saw me during the period I couldn’t see myself. After coming out on the other side, I could look back and see when I was at an all time self-image low, they treated me consistently the same as when I felt back on top. On my worst, most unappealing day, none of that mattered to them. Glad I took a moment to look further…WINNING! Lol!