A Wigwam for a Goose's Bridle

Do you see Her?

The elephant in the room?

Of course you do!

She can hardly be missed.

She holds her breath,

Stands as still as She can.

She still thinks maybe,

Just maybe, they won’t notice me.

She pulls back quickly from the hug

In case they feel what they have not seen.

But you see Her.

Everyone sees Her.

Some of them comment.

Sometimes She is taking up more space than usual.

Friends and acquaintances have that way of saying

You look different

You’ve lost weight

And She’s never sure if they know damn well it’s the opposite

Or if all they notice is a difference

And they say what they assume is a compliment.

Wishful thinking.

Sometimes She is indeed taking up less space.

The praise rains and She

Is torn.

She loves praise.

But

She hears the unspoken meaning:

You are now worth more

More worthy

Because you are less.

It is a backhanded compliment,

N’est-ce pas?

We like you more when there is less of you to like.

And She knows the corollary:

If you become more again,

Then again you will be worth less,

Worthless.

And what She wants to say is

Thank you

For noticing

That I am not well

And that the Eating Disorder is currently winning,

But actually it would be healthier

For me

If you didn’t encourage Her,

But She knows they will not understand,

So She just says

Thank you.

Professionals notice the elephant

And they’re not afraid to comment.

It seems as if they expect it to be news.

Did you know there is an elephant in the room? they say –

We should definitely have it removed,

An “elephantectomy” as it were

Or if not a full removal then at least

A reduction

A debulking

Of the malignant tumour that it is.

Because elephants should not be in rooms,

And it is your fault,

And it is within your power to remove it,

And you should.

And if you will not,

You are a failure.

You are lazy.

A lazy failure.

And this is why She is silent and still.

Perhaps they won’t notice me,

Or at least if they do,

Perhaps we can just pretend

That no one has

And I’m not here,

But even this is not a true solution.

Best case scenario

She really is ignored,

Just as She claimed She wanted

But if She is honest,

That is lonely.

Worst case scenario

She knows She is seen

And the vacuum of comment

Is filled with Her own commentary,

Her own judgment,

And She remains Her own harshest critic.

But rarely

A stranger walks in,

Exclaims excitedly,

Oh I love the elephant!

Everything about it!

What a grand creature.

And She is seen

And known

And felt

And accepted

And loved

And praised even,

Not for being less,

But just for being.

And even more rarely,

The stranger knows

And says I’m sorry.

I know what they said.

I know why you hide.

I see the pain.

And when they stand beside Her,

The elephant is just that little bit less scared to be seen.