Me vs. MePhoto taken by Chris McMahon
What happens when the laughter stops? Uncovering the insecurities masked by a good sense of humor.
By Rebecca Starke
News You Can Use Editor
News You Can Use Editor
This idea of self-confidence has always plagued me. I have a loving family, great friends, strong sense of self, and a great sense of humor that I consider my forte. Despite my list of attributes, I have trouble facing certain issues like weight, career, and relationships or lack there of, and replace it with a joke, anecdote, or an impression that will no doubt turn the attention away from these issues and focus on my ability to be witty.
I am going to hit the nail right on the head and address the biggest issue that I think in certain aspects affects the other issues: my weight. My weight fluctuates more than the than the coke scale at Lindsey Lohan’s house. I am not a delusional person. I am aware of the fact that I could stand to lose a few; the step forward was figuring out how I got here and why it’s a reoccurring problem: I eat my feelings. When I am upset, nothing makes me happier that a juicy burger followed by a huge bowl of ice cream. If it’s been a really bad day, I seek comfort in pizza, as if having a salad could somehow make me feel worse. This uplift only lasts about five minutes until I realize that this is the reason I could only wear a black dress/moo moo this summer.
Finding something to wear isn’t my only dilemma, it’s finding the motivation and time to do something about it. I have become one of my biggest pet peeves, someone who constantly complains about something that they are unwilling to change. I will go in spurts of tremendous energy and motivation to get off the couch and exercise. However, those spurts are short-lived and the re-runs of Friends seem much more important when the time comes to make the choice. Hence the fluctuation; welcome to my vicious cycle.
While the rest of my friends made the wise decision to continue higher education, I dropped out when I was 20 to work at TGIFriday’s where my worth was determined by my pieces of flair. I wore 37. I have since quit my job at the home of the Ultimate Hawaiian Volcano and Sesame Jack Strips and moved on to a desk job where the only requirements are that I show up on time, and I don’t get too drunk at the Christmas party. Hats and suspenders are optional. Having a full time job where you are confined to a desk and a phone is a huge element of the weight gain, that and the warehouse guy that insists on bringing in doughnuts every morning,. Thanks, Ron.
I am 27, a sophomore in college, and feeling really behind when compared to those I surround myself with. I wouldn’t say that what I do for a living is an embarrassing job. It’s just boring and not really what I see myself doing for the rest of my life. So to mix it up a little, when I go out with my friends and meet new people, I have adopted an alias thanks to Karen from Will and Grace, Anastasia Beaverhousen, the sex therapist for senior citizens. I am not really proud of this little white lie and I apologize if any of you have been the victim in this little prank, but in my defense, it was really fun.
I am single and loving it! Or am I? I have done a really good job convincing myself that my lack of a relationship is by choice and I just don’t have time for it right now. The truth? I would love to be in a relationship! However, my track record these days consists of a wedding date that fell asleep at the head table at a wedding and a guy who’s engaged, yet failed to tell me. I refuse to believe that this is what’s left for the single gal. The lack of prospects isn’t the only setback; I am surrounded by people that are all married or in relationships. With that being said, my married friends aren’t in the business of “let’s go guy hunting.” There is also the issue of my weight; could that be a reason for the lack of prospects? As I slap myself across the face for being so ridiculous, I remember that although attraction is important, I would like to stay away from those that shallow.
When asked why I am not in a relationship, I usually respond as Bridget Jones would, “Because underneath my clothes, I am completely covered in scales.” That usually ends the conversation! When I do meet possible prospects, by the time I reach that point of interest, this person already thinks my name is Anastasia Beaverhousen, the sex therapist. How does one get out of that lie with an invitation for a date? I might be better off using the “bend~n~snap,” and just tell them my real name.
Despite the fact that sometimes these insecurities get the best of me, I know who I am, and I like that person. I know that regardless of my form, I am a genuine person with a generous heart and I surround myself with people who reflect those qualities. I do know at the end of the day, these issues don’t determine my worth and in the grand scheme of things it’s who you are on the inside that is the measure of a person. But if for some reason I find myself reaching 500 pounds, with a job selling ceiling tiles, and end up an old spinster living with 30 cats, I do know this---At least I will have my humor!
I am going to hit the nail right on the head and address the biggest issue that I think in certain aspects affects the other issues: my weight. My weight fluctuates more than the than the coke scale at Lindsey Lohan’s house. I am not a delusional person. I am aware of the fact that I could stand to lose a few; the step forward was figuring out how I got here and why it’s a reoccurring problem: I eat my feelings. When I am upset, nothing makes me happier that a juicy burger followed by a huge bowl of ice cream. If it’s been a really bad day, I seek comfort in pizza, as if having a salad could somehow make me feel worse. This uplift only lasts about five minutes until I realize that this is the reason I could only wear a black dress/moo moo this summer.
Finding something to wear isn’t my only dilemma, it’s finding the motivation and time to do something about it. I have become one of my biggest pet peeves, someone who constantly complains about something that they are unwilling to change. I will go in spurts of tremendous energy and motivation to get off the couch and exercise. However, those spurts are short-lived and the re-runs of Friends seem much more important when the time comes to make the choice. Hence the fluctuation; welcome to my vicious cycle.
While the rest of my friends made the wise decision to continue higher education, I dropped out when I was 20 to work at TGIFriday’s where my worth was determined by my pieces of flair. I wore 37. I have since quit my job at the home of the Ultimate Hawaiian Volcano and Sesame Jack Strips and moved on to a desk job where the only requirements are that I show up on time, and I don’t get too drunk at the Christmas party. Hats and suspenders are optional. Having a full time job where you are confined to a desk and a phone is a huge element of the weight gain, that and the warehouse guy that insists on bringing in doughnuts every morning,. Thanks, Ron.
I am 27, a sophomore in college, and feeling really behind when compared to those I surround myself with. I wouldn’t say that what I do for a living is an embarrassing job. It’s just boring and not really what I see myself doing for the rest of my life. So to mix it up a little, when I go out with my friends and meet new people, I have adopted an alias thanks to Karen from Will and Grace, Anastasia Beaverhousen, the sex therapist for senior citizens. I am not really proud of this little white lie and I apologize if any of you have been the victim in this little prank, but in my defense, it was really fun.
I am single and loving it! Or am I? I have done a really good job convincing myself that my lack of a relationship is by choice and I just don’t have time for it right now. The truth? I would love to be in a relationship! However, my track record these days consists of a wedding date that fell asleep at the head table at a wedding and a guy who’s engaged, yet failed to tell me. I refuse to believe that this is what’s left for the single gal. The lack of prospects isn’t the only setback; I am surrounded by people that are all married or in relationships. With that being said, my married friends aren’t in the business of “let’s go guy hunting.” There is also the issue of my weight; could that be a reason for the lack of prospects? As I slap myself across the face for being so ridiculous, I remember that although attraction is important, I would like to stay away from those that shallow.
When asked why I am not in a relationship, I usually respond as Bridget Jones would, “Because underneath my clothes, I am completely covered in scales.” That usually ends the conversation! When I do meet possible prospects, by the time I reach that point of interest, this person already thinks my name is Anastasia Beaverhousen, the sex therapist. How does one get out of that lie with an invitation for a date? I might be better off using the “bend~n~snap,” and just tell them my real name.
Despite the fact that sometimes these insecurities get the best of me, I know who I am, and I like that person. I know that regardless of my form, I am a genuine person with a generous heart and I surround myself with people who reflect those qualities. I do know at the end of the day, these issues don’t determine my worth and in the grand scheme of things it’s who you are on the inside that is the measure of a person. But if for some reason I find myself reaching 500 pounds, with a job selling ceiling tiles, and end up an old spinster living with 30 cats, I do know this---At least I will have my humor!
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