My daughter called me fat

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?