Come in. Have a seat right here in the kitchen. I have So. Much. Shit. To. do.
Don’t I know it. I left 5 deadlines hanging when you invited me over. But I was dying for some coffee.
Here. Coffee. Veggies. Try this bread hubby made.
Alright, cut the shit. Why are we here?
I thought it was time for an honest conversation. You and me. Me and you. In the kitchen. With caffeine. Do you need wine for this?
I don’t think so. (squirming) So, honest how?
Honest like this. How are you feeling about yourself these days?
Ok, Um, I feel pretty good. I am eating better than ever. I exercise joyfully, keeping things interesting. I think I look ok. I am…happy.
With your body?
No not with my body you asshole. No woman is happy with her body.
You say that, but I know the truth. I know you better than anyone.
Oh, so it’s that game you want to play. Fine. Here is the real truth. I want YOU to shut the hell up. I feel fine – strong, confident, likeable. And then there you are with your goddam voice chirping in with your judgments and your doubts and I hate you for it.
You do realize you aren’t fooling anyone. We do understand this, do we not?
What is that supposed to mean?
You claim to be so empowered, and to be so woman-hear-you-roar around your daughters.
You’re not. For every time you say something accepting and positive about your curves –
Which is often, let’s just be fair…
Yes, well, for every time they hear that message, they receive 4 more that aren’t so good. They see you doubting yourself. They know when you are climbing out of your own skin. They know how you batter yourself over the numbers on the scale.
Do you have any idea how responsible you are for that? It’s YOU I hear when I am in dressing rooms, at the beach, on the scale. It’s YOUR voice – not mine – that chastises me for enjoying cake on my birthday and wine at a party. You are nothing but damage, my friend. But I can’t get rid of you.
Well, that may or may not be true.
Tell me. Tell me and I will banish you forever. Tell me how.
Love yourself. The way you love your children. Treat yourself the way you treat your friends. Accept and protect yourself the way you accept and protect your husband. Use manners with yourself the way you use manners with strangers. Ignore me the way you ignore life’s many assholes.
That easy, huh?
Yeah. Stop treating yourself like a piece of shit. My voice is merely a reflection of your feelings about yourself. The power is all yours.
Then I guess this is goodbye.