Unfortunate Questions

Around this time of the month, Tina, Nadria and I usually spend mostof our days out and about. We're often on the hunt for products tofeature in the magazine, story ideas, etc. This can be really fun — weget to get out of the office, we talk to new people, we hear whatpeople think about the magazine — but on some days this is not so fun.Yesterday was one of those not so fun days.

Tina and I were strolling through Mountain Brook Village. We wereminding our own business. A strange man walked past me. He stopped. Hegave me the once over. (Up until this point, he is mildly annoying, butI do not yet want to punch him in the face.) Then he says, "You have tostop and take notice of a beautiful woman, even when she's pregnant."

The problem here? I'm not pregnant.

In short, I was pretty much devastated. Tina tried to help me out."Laurel, he had like one eye. He was practically blind." I feel that ifhe had one eye, I should have seemed smaller since he was seeing lessof me. "Maybe it's because you have big boobs. He thinks you'relactating or something." Not cutting it either. Boobs and the stomachare two very different terrains.

The bottom line is this: If someone asks if you are pregnant when you are not in fact pregnant, there is no way to mitigate the situation.Softening the blow or explaining away the insult are not viableoptions. I don't care if it's a blind, deaf person with no hands (sohe/she can't feel for a stomach) who claims that unicorns are runningrampant through town doing the asking. Hell, the character from Johnny Got His Guncould use his one remaining chest hair to ask if I was pregnant when Iwasn't pregnant in Morse code, and I'd still be bothered by it.

At times like these, I'm reminded of some very good advice from afriend in Huntsville. She says that there's never a need to ask aboutrelationships or pregnancies. She argues that if these things are goingwell, the person is going to tell you about it. It's much easier to bepatient and wait for the, "Steven and I are doing really well — we justbought a house," than to ask about a significant other (especially ofsomeone you don't see that often) and sit through the painful, "we'reactually not together anymore, he's in love with his secretary" part ofthe conversation.

Personally, I don't want anyone to ask about my stomach unless Igrab them by the arm to tell them that I'm going into labor. But,trying to use that I'm-not-the-center-of-the-world mentality I've beenworking on lately (with limited success, I'm still bothered that TomKatstole the thunder from my 27th birthday by getting married on November18), I realize that this incident, while upsetting, is not the worstthing that could have happened to me. There are plenty of people reallysuffering in the Midwest right now (as well as all over the world). Andthe rational part of me knows that I don't actually look pregnant. (I'dlike to be in the "so what if I did, I love my body anyway" place, butI'm not there yet.)

And, in true "every cloud has a silver lining" fashion, at leastthis incident is some good motivation to use that rather expensive Malibu Pilates chair I just bought.  

Previous
Previous

Bellying up to the Bar

Next
Next

Lost Overload