Tunes and Trials

We were invited to a intimate house concert last weekend. What I didn’t know (until I had already committed) was that it was going to be filmed.

Shit.

I really wanted to go, and I was honored to be invited in the first place, but now there was another concept I was trying to fight my brain about. The concept that pretty people are the ones that go in front of the camera, I’m the one that is supposed to hold the camera, or just never been seen. That’s how my most of my career has gone, and I can’t complain in the sense where I really enjoy the production end of media, but still.

I RESISTED the temptation to freak out and message the host, asking if he was ABSOLUTELY SURE he wanted me there, for fear of potentially ending up on camera and ruining the cool people vibe they were going for. I should get a “Power Over Paranoia Point” for that… I dressed up as nice as I could and hoped for the best. When we got there, I did the thing I ALWAYS do…I volunteered to give my film friends a hand (which is also terrifying, because I’m SUPER out of the game nowadays as much as I miss it). No dice. They didn’t need help with filming. They needed audience folks and it was a small project.

SHIT.

I still think I dodged the cameras by sitting off to the side…hopefully.

Now, the only thing I had eaten before the party was a one link of sausage with sautéed peppers and onions at breakfast. I am not doing intermittent fasting on weekends but I keep to the low-carb/keto thing. I wasn’t very hungry throughout the day, and the invitation for the concert mentioned dinner, so I thought I would just wait until we got there, eat like a normal person, and I’d still be fine. But before the filming started, I had another run in with the same friend from the food shaming incident two weeks ago, creeping on me at the food table.

SHIIIIIIIIIT.

Put down the pitchforks a moment (pun intended). Hold your fire. Just let me just get this out.

This is not an effort for anyone to be mad at anyone else. I can handle my own battles, and I swear to you, this ISN’T a battle. The whole reason I’m writing about it at all is to address how I ended up handling the situation (spoilers: no binge, but not any better):

Everything I reached for came with free nutritional commentary from another skinny attractive person (Yipee! What I’ve always wanted). I smiled and nodded, but at the last comment I could stand about portion size, I accidently had a nervous giggle/sigh escape my lips. Instead of risking having him lean in harder, I ran out the kitchen to safety (buried my head in Ben’s arm for a minute) and attempted to calm down…piled at the very center of my plate (making it the smallest size I could) were three slices of lunch meat, three florets of broccoli, and a tiny cube of cheese.

I also didn’t go back later on. He kind of stayed in that area most of the night, and I didn’t want to be caught eating. I’m really hoping he means well, and I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but SERIOUSLY. And THEN I ended up drink two glasses of wine…so I was instantly drunk. It was helpful to take the edge off, but this is why so many people who have bariatric surgery end up abusing alcohol instead. It’s acceptable for the fat girl to have a drink, but not a plate of food.

I know I should have said something, but here are the things I got stuck on:

1. I had no idea what to say without spewing venom like a viper.
2. I don’t want to hurt his feelings if he IS actually trying to be supportive or show concern.
3. There is a huge part of me that says I should just be grateful someone interacts with me.

I’ll handle it, I promise I will. But I really couldn’t deal with it in the moment– I was too hungry, upset, and ashamed for being caught with food. It was a nice night otherwise, really. Great music, great people, and even made some new connections. I met the wife of a former professor of mine who listens to Talk to Santa, so that made me REALLY happy. It’s nice to be recognized every now and then for the work I’m still doing within my field. I ate a little more when I got home, but it still only added up to about 500 calories for the day.

Oh well, I won’t waste away anytime soon. Onward, and (hopefully) downward.