Turns out I’m severely lactose intolerant; or, a haiku on Lactaid

you slip down my throat

small and white like edelweiss

intestines rejoice

This one’s a keeper

How do I know?

New Fella knew that I’d experienced infertility during marriage #1.  Entirely on his own, with no suggestion whatsoever from me, he decided that he should probably get a semen analysis, just in case.  He picked up the cup and submitted the sample all of his own volition, mentioning it to me along the way.

*SWOON*

(The results?  Excellent.)

The news according to spam in my work inbox

Boy pokes fork into sister’s eye

Britney Spears quits singing career

Demi Moore’s baby suffers lung infection

Fast food causes men to shrink

Female gangs found robbing guys

Horse breaks riders skull in freak attack

JFK memoirs reveal illegitimate son

Jerry Seinfeld announces Seinfeld movie

Meg Ryan drops top at awards ceremony

Two-headed baby born in Texas

Tiger Woods Will Call Next Son Monkey

Yikes.

So this weekend I was at my parents’ cabin, along with 8 friends. We had a blast – beautiful weather, great food courtesy of my mom, swimming in the lake, watching fireworks, drinking Shandy and soaking up the sun. A lovely weekend, much of which was spent wearing as little clothing as possible.

And then the pics went up on Facebook, and my jaw dropped.

My ass really looks like that? Really?

Now, I will preface the following thus:

I’ve always been a slim person (I know, total bitch) – mostly due to genetics and, more recently, Irritable Bowel Syndrome (good fun!). I’m 5’3”, and throughout high school and college I hovered near the entrance to the triple-digits. I was one of those people who ate and ate and ate and never gained an ounce. Metabolism sky-high! Size zero always on clearance! Why yes, I’ll have four more brownies, thanks for asking!

As of recently, things have changed. The changes began when I started my first job after college and suddenly I sat the entire day in a foam-rubber computer chair with occasional forays through the skyways of Minneapolis to retrieve frozen yogurts. I couldn’t figure out why my stomach hurt all the time, and why I always felt bloated. If I had owned a scale, I would have understood that I was in pain because my *clothes didn’t fit.* After buying a larger (but still small) wardrobe, things improved.

Weight kept slowly inching up while I was married, and then really rose after the separation and divorce (something my ex-husband pointed out when we saw each other lately, which is one of many, many reasons why the Best Divorce Ever™ has sadly, yet inevitably soured). Though I’m still firmly in the normal weight camp by BMI standards (though everyone knows what a crock they really are), I am larger than I’ve ever been and the ass, she is spreading.

Most of me is disgusted by the fact that I’m somewhat appalled at seeing these pictures of me. I am still of a healthy weight, I wear a size that many women wish they could wear, yet here I sit gaping at the voluptuous hip area I’ve gained over the past year. I, who have read the fat acceptance blogs, agree 100%, and have made it a personal goal not to treat people differently because of their size. I, who read this post and was once again re-horrified by the fact that if you’re not bone skinny in America, you’re considered fat (many thanks for introducing me to that blog, Oro). I, who am furious that the word “fat” is the first insult hurled at any woman who weighs more than a malnourished pre-teen. I know these things. And yet the thought that the size of my ass was horrifying stays in my mind.

So many of you have written so much more profoundly on the body image issues we all face. Right now you’re rolling your eyes and saying, “Yes, Molly. Women in the world today are held to ridiculous expectations. Hadn’t you noticed that over the past 28 and 11/12 years of your life?” I’m behind, I know (no pun intended).

So here I am, late to the party, and asking for your to have this conversation again.  I hope you’ll forgive me.