My daughter called me fat last night. It stung more than words could ever explain.
Let me start off by saying out Goldendoodle was groomed yesterday afternoon and she needed a “closer” cut due to some mats in her fur. Our playful ball of fluff suddenly became the big-dog equivalent of one of those hairless cats. We could see her ribs and became genuinely concerned she is underweight. Thankfully, the Google explained she is fine; we will just need to make sure we cannot see her spine.
From the “innocent” mouth of a nearly eight-year-old the short one-sided conversation went something like this:
“She’s not fat anymore like you are daddy.”
*silence. I am not supposed to react, right? Ok, just ignore it. *
“You know, because you have a big belly.”
*maintain silence. Please make it stop. Please. Please.” *
“You look like Daddy Pig (referring to the television show Peppa Pig)”
*just get up and remove yourself. Do not say anything, just remove yourself while you try to maintain some emotional control. *
As someone with Asperger’s who also internally struggles with self esteem for various reasons, having the single human that I would put my life on the line for unintentionally “reject” me sent me back into a spiral where I just want to go numb again. I cannot trust. I do not want to feel. I have had break-ups that caused less emotional pain.
The thing is, she did nothing wrong other than be slightly rude.
On my end I felt as if I had the absolute love of my life tell me I am not good enough. And when I am not good enough, I like to shut down while I try to work my way through unbearable emotional pain and fucking pray that I come out the other end alive.
Usually, it is my daughter that can help me get through these situations. When she is the indirect cause, what then?