I’ve finally lost weight. The folks want to reward me. I’d like to tell them to shove it.
My weight began to soar when I hit puberty. My parents were openly ashamed of this and began an onslaught of torment to “motivate” me to lose weight that involved bribery, public humiliation, fat camp, withholding food/affection/anything they could, encouraging my siblings to attack my weakness…insert your own cliché, and I guarantee they attempted that approach. For years I was depressed and nearly suicidal. I felt they ruined the person I could have become.
Left. Supported myself, went to school, attended therapy, embraced antidepressants, got married. And now, at nearly forty, my weight is ideal. I am happy and healthy. I limit my communication with the folks to Christmas cards.
Twenty-five years ago, these people offered to pay me to lose weight. This was amended to sending me to Europe and Asia, all expenses covered. Twenty-five years later, they offered to make good on this. I feel it is their way of acknowledging that I’ve accomplished something they can finally be proud of. I hate them for this.
But I also know this is a small peace offering. Now that none of their children want to have anything to do with them, they’ve re-examined their own culpability and have made similar monetary gestures towards my siblings (cars, house down-payments). It’s as if they don’t know what else they can do, other than pay us for forgiveness. They’ve confessed as much. They avoid intruding in any of our lives, and now have nothing but free-flowing praise for all of us.
A lot of getting to where I am today involved a nauseating amount of self-evaluation, but I’m having a problem wrapping my head around what I want to do. I know why I’m angry at the offer. I know why I’m frustrated that this is the closest I’ll ever get to an apology or acknowledgement. Let me be clear…I know they were, and are, jerks. They mean well, but c’mon, I can’t begin to describe how their horrible behavior affects the very way I see myself today. I’ve forgiven, but there will never be an occasion where I will embrace these people into my life.
I guess now the principle is pride. Pride leads me to want to say thanks but no thanks (a polite f-you). Or say thanks, go, and then worry the entire time that accepting this trip equates to being easily bought. But not cheaply bought – we’re talking about a couple of months of extensive travel to wherever we wish, without worry. I want to go.
Simple, objective opinions: were it you, could/would you go?
posted by ClaudiaCenter at 8:47 AM on July 10, 2007