When I was a kid, I rode the bus to my grandmother’s house after school. On the bus, as well
as pretty much everywhere else, there were groups of kids who got their kicks and upset me by picking on my weight. This occurred during my early school years, in first or second grade.
The “ringleader” of the particularly nasty group on the bus was a skinny kid named Jason who lived on the street behind my grandmother’s house and was a few years older, probably in the fourth or fifth grade. He would always instigate the fat insults and his group of buddies, both male and female as I recall, would chime in and continue and build upon his daily verbal attack.
Before Kindergarten, I didn’t have a lot of exposure to groups of my peers. I had a couple of close friends, but other than that I was a bit of a loner hanging out at my grandmother’s house. I liked it that way. I had little tolerance for other children and preferred the solitude that my grandmother’s house provided. Maybe I wasn’t tolerant because I was sick quite often.
From the time I was an infant until the age of eight I suffered from frequent, nasty ear infections that made me entirely miserable. In my Kindergarten picture I look awful; pale and thin with darkly-circled, sad-looking eyes. Pretty much the only thing my parents and grandmother could get me to eat were macaroni & cheese and cheese sandwiches.
Kindergarten was the year that my doctors tried to help me by removing my adenoids and inserting tube in my ears. It didn’t help much, and I missed so much school that year that I would have flunked Kindergarten had my mother not loudly protested to the school (Thank goodness. I was freakin’ bored. My grandmother had already taught me all the basics the New York Board of Education apparently thought five-year olds needed to learn.
The doctors decided to do allergy tests, and found out I had numerous sensitivities to common things: dust (no more stuffed animals for me, but I got a waterbed for this one!), mold, feathers (pillow’s? And we’d had parakeets), and nicotine (most of the adults in the family were regular smokers), among several other things. They decided that I should try a nasal spray to try to combat my allergies. A steroid nasal spray.
I began to want to eat everything in sight constantly. My parents and grandmother happily fed me. What would you do if you had a kid that formerly refused food most of the time? They were so happy I was eating and beginning to look like a healthy kid… I blame the steroid drug, and not them, for the reason I turned into a fat kid in the first grade.
This is me in 1981. I’m “chubby” with a round face, crooked teeth, and a weird haircut, and I was overly sensitive. I was a pretty damn easy target for anyone who was looking for one.
The group on the bus got their kicks at my expense for a while. I probably got off the bus crying or something, but I don’t really remember. One thing I do remember, quite clearly, however, is their favorite taunt for a time: calling me “Benny Hill’s girlfriend”.
It seems stupid, and makes me laugh now looking back, but at the time it was devastating. The Benny Hill Show was airing early in the evening during those years, and my dad and grandfather both enjoyed watching it. Benny Hill was a fat, goofy, English comedian who enjoyed chasing women around. The kids on the bus thought that Benny Hill was “retarded” and were making fun of it among themselves for a while. Eventually, they concluded that the best way to keep the insult ball rolling and one-up themselves was to draw me into it somehow. It upset me so successfully that calling me “Benny Hill’s girlfriend” was an ongoing insult as I got off the bus everyday.
It hurt for a while. I don’t remember how long, but I do remember learning what real pain and loss were over the next year as my grandfather became ill and we lost him to a brain tumor. It’s likely that the personal pain and humiliation that resulted from their insults no longer affected me after that, if they even lasted that long.
Though the doctors removed my tonsils when I was eight, the earaches lessened tremendously, and I was able to stop the steroid medication, I was still an awkward looking kid for several years to come. I ended up with glasses in the third grade and braces in eighth grade, and I was still chubby. It didn’t bother me that much though, so other kids left me alone. I formed some strong friendships during my elementary school years, many which have stood the test of time.
In high school I got contact lenses, had my braces removed, learned how to style my hair decently, and how to enhance my features with makeup. I’ve never found myself longing for male attention, and once my body took on a proper womanly hourglass shape, I’ve never been displeased with it.
I’m not small, as indicated in my previous post about beginning Fatoff, and I still get the occasional dig at my weight from sad people who find the most obvious thing to use to conduct their personal attacks. Fat girls must be sensitive about their weight, so hit ‘em where it hurts, right? Actually, no, it doesn’t hurt me anymore, but it does make me sad that there are people who make a conscious decision to treat others this way. I don’t understand that mentality. I’m not a vengeful person and I would never do anything to purposely hurt someone else.
An incident today with a mature, adult trying to upset me by calling me fat got me thinking about the kids on the bus and the “Benny Hill’s girlfriend” comment. I started looking up information and old clips of the Benny Hill Show, and it rather amused me. I came to the realization that I actually married a large, obnoxious comedic personality, who likes pretty girls… similar to Benny Hill. Maybe being Benny Hill’s girlfriend wasn’t such a bad thing after all. I will gladly, forever be Benny Hill’s girlfriend <3
