It was that moment that most women dread every year: the annual checkup with our doctor. As if it’s not annoying enough to hear about all the vitamins we should or shouldn’t be taking, all the unpleasant tests we’ll have in the coming years, we have to be weighed. Maybe it doesn’t sound like a big deal but, for people who are at all concerned with weight management, having to face “THE NUMBER,” especially in front of a medical professional, proves especially daunting, uncomfortable and anxiety-provoking.
So this year, it didn’t help when I mentioned to the doctor that I’m slightly concerned with THE NUMBER. Sure, I’m in great shape and it’s not like my diet include McDonalds or even regular trips to the bakery. But, as is the case for most people, my habits leave something to be desired and there is certainly room for improvement. So, in considering all this, I asked my doc, a female in her mid-thirties, if I should be concerned with what the scale told us.
“No,” she answered, “not really. I mean, we don’t really start to talk about gastric bypass until your BMI reaches a 33 or so.”
GASTRIC BYPASS. The words echoed in my head so forcefully that I really thought it might explode. I glared at her, gripped my stomach and asked “If you were going to do gastric bypass on me, WHAT WOULD YOU EVEN TAKE OUT!?” I was clearly referring to the fact that I’m a healthy size six. That’s less than half the size of the average woman in America!
Needless to say I came home from that appointment shocked, horrified and, of course, a little anxious. No one in my life had ever mentioned that phrase to me in connection to my own body. Why now, especially when it’s clearly so inappropriate considering my physical presentation?
After I finally calmed down, I called a guy friend who I confide in regularly.
“Rach,” he said, “it’s so obvious. It’s sick but it’s clearly that whole catty girl mentality,” he explained. He then went on to ask if the doctor is small or large herself, to which I noted that she’s actually heavyset. It then clicked: yes, the competitive relationship between girls has even entered the clinical setting. For all this doctor knows, I could be a vulnerable girl who, while concerned about my weight, also isn’t the most mentally stable. She could have been “encouraging” my weight loss while also promoting self-destructive or even deadly behavior. Fortunately for her, I’m confident enough to know that I don’t actually have a problem and that, yes, my friend was right: her competitive female behavior penetrated the doctor-patient relationship.
I would have liked to think that a doctor would have more common sense and decency when conversing with a patient. I would like to think, for that matter, that any grown woman would know how to speak to other women with kindness, dignity and respect.
Boy am I wrong. Other recent examples have proved how wrong I really have been.
I work in an office surrounded by many other women. It’s a fabulous place to work and the company really treats us well. Unfortunately for me, not all of the women treat each other with the same standards as the company does. More and more, I’ve learned that this competitive, catty and flat out BITCHY behavior also applies to working professionals in big companies. Apparently my interaction with my doctor was not some of anomaly-- some women are just mean to each other for trivial or even non-apparent reasons. And that’s a fact.
I’ve recently been noticing that a group of these women (all of whom work in close proximity to my cubicle) have decided that it’s OK to not only comment negatively on my performance, but to also stab me with nasty remarks when it seems that no one else is listening. After our manager said that I should use one of these women’s printers, the employee lectured me sternly, saying how she HOPES I’m not “using that printer out of convenience.” That little comment was followed by a barrage of questions about my own printer and whether I was just using hers because mine wasn’t working. At this point I had (foolishly) assumed that offering to purchase her ink and extra paper would be enough, but it seems that she was more interested in having a reason to reprimand me than to accept me printing a page or two at her desk.
Today, another co-worker (also female) shot me back a nasty, three sentence email about how I was so inappropriate to state to a colleague that she was “working from home” for the day. Perhaps that was an over-share on my part, maybe it was not something I should have disclosed. But would I have cared if she had told someone else that if I were doing the same if I truly were? Of course not. Again, another prime example of an angry female just scanning for reasons to condemn a younger, more vulnerable female’s behavior. Fortunately for me, I know that I have my youth, whereas all these women have is the ability to gossip and whisper in front of my face every day. (Yes, they do. I swear.)
What do I make of all of this? I’ve decided that I need to take it all in stride. Girls will be girls no matter what age they are. Such spiteful behavior isn’t acceptable or appropriate, even more so in a work or clinical setting, but it happens. It’s important to not over-analyze these situations or to dwell on them, but it’s also necessary to recognize that there’s a reason that grown women like these choose to pick on others. Maybe they’re jealous of my age or my work capabilities, who knows. Regardless, it’s important to step back and recognize that sometimes the younger (and skinnier!) person can be the bigger person. It’s comforting to know that even if they’re putting on their antics so regularly, I’m still going to treat them with kindness and not let them know they’ve upset me.
My best friend’s mom used to tell her this as a kid and I think it still applies: “I am rubber and you are glue. Whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you.” Take that, ladies, and grow up.
