Reviving Ophelia - Mary Bray Pipher [77]
Most of her social experience was on computer networks. Nightly she used her computer modem to communicate with teenagers all over the country. They didn’t know that she was chubby. On the modem she could use her wit and intelligence to make friends she would never have to meet face-to-face.
Under her drab, tentlike clothes and depressed demeanor, Monica had real personality. She delivered insightful comments about her situation with a wry twist. She had the social scene down. She said, “All five hundred boys want to go out with the same ten anorexic girls.” She said, “I’m a good musician, but not many guys are looking for a girl that plays great Bach preludes.”
“Boys get teased if they even talk to me,” she moaned. Most boys treated her as if she were covered with invisible ink. A few actually harassed her. One boy called her the Killer Whale and pretended he was afraid she’d smash up against him. Her Spanish lab partner couldn’t look at her without smirking.
Monica had given up on girls too. She told of sitting with all these “tiny girls who were on diets and complaining how fat they were. If they think they’re fat, they must view me as an elephant.” Some girls giggled about her and teased her. Most just chose prettier friends. No one was all that eager to be seen with her on Saturday nights.
Monica had more perspective on her problems than most girls her age, but unfortunately insight does not take away pain. She told me ruefully that she hated her fat body and hence, herself. She showed me her poems, which were full of despair about her large, unlovable body. She said, “Let’s face it, the world isn’t exactly waiting for girls like me.”
She’d resisted the culture’s definitions of what was valuable in girls, but she was tired. She said, “When I walk down the halls I feel like a hideous monster. I understand my parents’ point that looks aren’t that important in adulthood, but I’m not in adulthood.”
I encouraged Monica to fight her depression by exercising regularly. Monica said that she came from “a long line of slugs.” She agreed to break tradition and walk and bike. She chose these activities because she could do them alone and without wearing a swimsuit.
At first she had trouble. She told me, “I hate to sweat. Ten minutes out and I’m red in the face and sweating like a marathon runner.” Once, when red-faced and panting, she biked by a tennis court and some guys pointed at her and laughed. She thought of a million excuses not to exercise, but she managed to make her goal of three times a week.
She also decided to fix herself up and bought some “semi-punk” clothes. She had her hair cut by someone who knew what they were doing and started wearing a little makeup.
She respected the fact that her parents were not big consumers of the mass culture. She said, “In some ways it’s been good. I wasn’t exposed to all these messages that women were sex objects and that bodies were what mattered. But in some ways it’s been bad. I wasn’t prepared for real life.”
I asked her to elaborate. She told me, “I guess I thought we’d all sit around and discuss books we’d read. I was shocked by how superficial everyone was, how into looks.”
We talked about what kinds of relationships Monica wanted. She wanted to be appreciated for her wit and her musical gifts. She wanted to be seen as a person, not a dress size, and she wanted friends who cared more about her ideas than her weight.
I suggested we start slowly. Rather than worrying about popularity, we focused on making a few new friends. Monica liked the idea, but was hesitant about the actions required to carry it out. She’d been rejected so often that she was reluctant to take more risks.
Because she was a Suzuki viola student, I used the Suzuki method as a metaphor for how we would work. Dr. Suzuki believed that any student could learn to play the most difficult classical works. All that was necessary was that the steps be small and the practice regular. Thus a small child practices holding the bow, touching the bow to the strings, curving her fingers correctly and playing a