Today’s assignment: write a post that builds on one of the comments you left yesterday. Don’t forget to link to the other blog!
I totally forgot… I was putzing around the Internet (as one does) and came across a post from an old friend… well, *friend* might be overstating things. I like and respect her very much, but we are not terribly close. She was part of my RenFaire life (which, by the way, is factoring into my blog way more than I thought it would!) and she is a refreshingly blunt talker. What I respect most about her is that she is extremely non-judgmental when it comes to art (isn’t that what art should be? The term “art critic” has always felt like an oxymoron to me.)
The other day she posted this. And I responded to it. I asked if she might be able to trace her unhealthy focus to an addictive personality. I only say that because I have had no sort of issue like this and I know without a doubt that my personality is anything but addictive. To my naive brain, that’s the only conclusion I could ever come up with.
I remember in college, when I was
pledging participating in New Member Education, the University required us to attend seminars to make sure we were mentally healthy. One of the ones I attended (because it didn’t conflict with classes and got my ass out of the Greek Room for a while!) was on eating disorders. On my way back to the Greek room I picked up a slice of cake and happily chowed down while talking about the warning signs I had just learned about. My big sister said, “thank God we don’t have to worry about that with you.”
Some girls would have put the fork down immediately– I laughed and finished off the cake. Because she wasn’t making fun of me. And I don’t have an easily damaged body image. So it’s unfathomable to me to have to face any sort of eating disorder. I just can’t wrap my brain around it.
And this is not meant to downplay the struggle that some people go through. I have had friends and students who have had to get serious help. I just wish to declare my limitations by saying I don’t get it. And that usually means I keep my mouth shut when people talk about it– because the nothing that I have to say about it wouldn’t help anyway. And I’m ok with that.
Here’s to knowing when to hold your tongue when it matters.