Sibling Rivalry

My older brother and his wife bought a vacation home in Northern Wisconsin last summer. I just spent the last two days there, with them and their three children, my older sister Denise, and my Dad.

I'm glad I went. It was fun. I also learned some not-so flattering aspects of myself.

The first is that I have always gone against my sister's desires simply out of fear that my own would not be met. This weekend I saw that I was doing it, pushed myself out of it, and was happy that with the results.

She really wanted to go snowshoeing. I was not particularly interested in going snowshoeing; for one thing, I weigh the most I have ever weighed in my life, and was worried about physically being able to keep up. The other reason I didn't care to go is simply because I pictured us walking around in over-sized tennis rackets. This just didn't seem like such a great deal.

My brother and his wife do more down hill and cross country skiing. My Dad is 70, had a hip replacement last summer, and she expected him to go, too. I felt that she was pushing her own agenda against what was in the best interest of the rest of us.

Normally I would have protested, and it would have become a subtle battle of who loves who more by who wants to do who's agenda - could I talk them into cross country skiing instead? I knew cross country skiing, I knew I could do that in my current physical condition. Maybe we could do that instead.

We kind of went that direction at the rental place. They had both cross country skis and snow shoes. We got talking with the kid that did the rentals, and he said snow shoeing was really fun - that we should should try it.

He was about 6'4" tall, and a little heavy himself. He looked us over, and didn't say anything like, "Yeah - it'll be totally fun. Except for you, fat girl. You will die. Your old man probably will, too; but because you are so fat, you will probably die before him. Fatty."

Nope, none of that. He just smiled, looked each of us over, and handed each of us our appropriate snow shoe.

Snow shoes, like cross country skiing, is a weight-based piece of equipment. He didn't hesitate among us adults - he just handed each of us our gear. At my neices, though, he paused. "How much do you weigh?" he asked the older one. "110," she said easily. Not bragging, but not embarrassed, either. Just a statement of fact. For them he gave them different sizes.

We went out the next morning, and it was fun. I expressed on the way to the trail, in a joking manner, how I am going to sink like a rock to the bottom of the snow powder. My Dad laughed heartily at that. I also said how out of shape I am. But we got on the trail, and I was fine. The first lap we went slow, partly out of consideration for my Dad, and partly just cuz we were kind of playing with each other.

When we got back to the Chalet, Dad went inside. Denise said, "So, does anyone want to go again?" It was only about a half-mile path, and it had mild hills and valleys; not a strenous workout at all.

I used to get angry with Denise's "Oh, I have to go work out now!" attitude. She always seemed so holier-than-thou with it. It's as if she's the self-appointed worker-outer in the family - and each family can only have one! And she's IT!

This has always made me angry as the younger sibling - well, if she's already the hyper fit one in the family, then I guess I have to be the hyper fat one in the family. It made me so mad, especially because I have always been told I have a lot of athletic ability. But, sigh, I could not explore it or develop it because if I step in Denise's terrain of Hyper Fit Daughter, then I will be handed the same fate as my older sister Margie, who won out over Denise (in Denise's mind) in the looks department. Denise was horrible to Margie growing up. Seriously. Horrible. We look like a sweet and happy family at Church on Sunday - but Denise was a complete shit to Marge growing up. I know now that it's because of sibling rivalry, of feeling like there wasn't enough love to go around. But because of I what I saw her do, and was party to doing to Marge, I have NEVER wanted to compete with Denise.

So as she said, "Who wants to go again?" I heard the desperation in her voice. The need for her to be the Fit One, the one who could go two, three, ten times, a hundred! How many times can anyone else go? She can do that plus two. Cuz she's fit.

It's clear I have no animosity.

Anyway, I heard desperation in her voice, and I realized that that's just a role she plays. Not that she doesn't enjoy the physical exercise - but it's weird. She always talks about how non-athletic she is, how clumsy she was when she tried to play basketball, how out of rhythm she is if she tries to dance. I have good rythym. I am coordinated.

I realized coming out of the woods today, as my body was singing and happy despite the fact it was carrying the equivalent of a complete nother person (226/2 = 113, or, more than each of what my nieces weigh), that I have never competed with my sister, or anyone else, on an up-and-up level. I have done my best and gotten positions without having to "beat" anyone out of it. I prefer this route - to do my best, and it will show and be rewarded.

However, I have a habit of dumbing myself down or holding back my thoughts so as to not "beat" someone else out of something. I did this recently at work - I didn't fully give myself to some things at work for fear that I would take that person's job away from them. I realized how unfair that was to that person, to the company, and to me.

Today, coming out of the woods, as I watched both of my older siblings race their way through, both so desperate to be on top in each and every situation, and me, in the back of the pack out of desperation to have their love by not competing with them, it was clear to me that that's not fair to any of us, either. Maybe they'd like me up there with them. Maybe they'd have fun racing for first. Maybe me doing my best is what they want. Nobody wants to win by the other person not trying. And maybe it's not about "winning." But "being." And I simply want to be my best.

It was humbling - realizing I probably weigh as much as if not more than my father. The littlest girl at birth, a mere 5 pounds 9 ounces - now, a tank of a woman. Is this really what I want my legacy to be? No. It's not. I want my legacy to be a life well lived, happily and healthily.

Other little realizations: They go water skiing, I've never gone - again, due to my size. I'd like to feel comfortable in a swim suit to experience that. My nieces are both very tiny - I realized how threatening I find being around men at that size. That's something for me to work on.

I'm torn - do I try dating at this size? I should probably go on a Hurry Date or something. I believe that someone could enjoy hanging out with me looking like this. But being in a physical relationship with me as I am right now? No way. It repulses me. The thought of me having sex with someone ... the though of 226 pounds of flesh trying to get her freak on is both hillarious and humiliating to me. I see other women bigger than me find love, and I think, how did they do it? What do these men see in these women? Actually, I think, what's wrong with those men? I've got a lot of work to do - that's part of what made me want to gain the weight - to let go of those feelings of unworthiness. So the question is - do I stay heavy and work through it, or let go of the weight and open myself up to the possibility of honest competition with other women?

I think the latter. I'd really like to be lighter by this summer so I can do outdoor sports without shame. I've lived in enough shame about my body and my size. Time to cut it loose.

Oh. I didn't eat any meat with them. I didn't bring food, but I had salad and pasta for dinner when we went out to eat at the meat-heavy restaurant we went to. At breakfast I just had pancakes and no sausage. At lunch, salad, some chips, and trail mix. I did bring water, so I kept hydrating myself. But an interesting question kept running through my mind each time I ate: What is really fueling me? I looked at my lettuce leaves and I thought, this can't really give me much fuel. I looked at my linquini noodles and thought, this definitely doesn't do anything but put some calories into my body - not nutreints. Same with the pancakes. Same with the chips. The trail mix to me was the only moderately nutrient-dense food I ate the last two days. It made me think about the whole fasting thing, and how I've been afraid to eat, I've been afraid to not eat, I've been afraid to work out, how I wonder how I'll ever eat normally again, where does exercise fit in if I'm eating no calories?

Today it came clear to me that I want to focus on drinking all the water I need. That's priority one. Then, I want to work out - whether it's dancing, treadmill, yogo, what have you. Then, I want to nourish my body apropriately.

That seems pretty simple, and pretty doable. Thanks for reading. Until next time.