Eats Like A Girl

I am like a woman in many ways.  I cry in bed. I have trouble with breakups.  I like Enya. I enjoy bubble baths, and I don't like to eat in front my significant other.

I have always had an issue with eating in front of my dates, my girlfriends, and women in general.  In this way I am like a female.  Now I know not all ladies are shy eating in front of men.  As a matter of fact, I know some chicks that tear it up, throw down, with no apologies, but a good deal are skittish.  As am I.

I don't know what I am thinking.  It's not as if they don't know I am overweight.  In my head I think maybe they won't see that I am fat if I don't eat that ravioli on our dinner date, or I think that if I diet for a week beforehand, I will show up to the date 100 lbs. lighter.
 
When we are actually dining together I am dying to eat.  Starving.   Instead, I eat like a bird.  I am very dainty, eating only a salad, or a small appetizer.  Who do I think I am fooling?  They must know that I want to devour a whole chicken, or a horse, or a pizza pasta cheeseburger (I don't know if that exists, but it sounds awesome!).

There have been times that I did eat what I wanted to in a girls presence, only to yell at myself in the mirror in the bathroom ("You fat pig.  What is wrong with you?!  Now she knows you're fat!").
Then I return to the table as if everything is fine, and I wasn't just having a breakdown in the men's room.

I take all precautions when food and women are involved. 

I was dating a girl, and I was staying at her house a lot.  Once, and many nights afterward, I said I had to go to CVS for some aspirin, or some bullshit.  She, of course, was confused by this impromptu late night errand, but I stressed that I needed my brand (my brand?) after turning down her Advil.   I got into my car, hit the Taco Bell drive thru, parked, and proceeded to gorge on many items.  I returned to her apartment, with no aspirin of course, claiming the drug store was closed.  The 24 hour drug store was closed.

Another time I was rehearsing for a play with a cute girl that I dug.  She had prepared us some brown rice and veggies to eat during our scene study.  She scooped us out a couple small plates, and we ate.  The food being nutritious, I actually felt okay eating in front of her.  After the scene work she grabbed a shower.  That was my cue to hit the kitchen, and shovel even more rice, and veggies down my throat.  I didn't want her to know that not only was it bad enough that it was healthy, but that I wanted a ton more of it.  A ton.

I have been called out on this by my male friends.  They see me doing it, and ask me what the hell am I doing?  The title of the essay actually comes from a friend at a dinner party telling me to stop "Eating like a girl", that I wasn't "fooling anyone." 

The said dinner parties are the worst.  Everyone is eating what they want while I slightly circle the buffet picking up veggies, salad and tofu for my plate, then retreating to a dark corner of the room where no one, especially women, can see me eating.

I know that I have lost girlfriends due to my weight, and my inability to change.  They have tried to help too.  I was almost brought to tears while reading one of my ex's journals one day (she kept it right next to her bed.  I mean, come on!), that said she was scared that I might have a heart attack one day.  Another of my ladies even mapped out a whole dieting regimen for me, including what to eat, where to get it cheap, and an exercise schedule, which I promptly lost, or deleted, or threw out.  Who ignores that kind of help?  A disturbed person.

I want to have my cake, and eat too, literally.  I want the girlfriend, usually the HOT, out of my league girlfriend, but I won't make the effort to earn or deserve it.  For the longest time I blamed the girls for dumping me or getting on my ass about my eating, my weight, and my health, but I see now that it was me.  I mean, yeah, who wants to work hard at looking, and feeling good, only to be seen with the guy who doesn't do any of those things?  I get it.  The honeymoon period of liking me for my humor or for who I am only lasts a certain time.  I am aware of the realities of life.  The girl, or guy, eventually doesn't wanna be with the fatty. 

I wish I could take part in what I see other couples do.  Getting a large popcorn at the movie, sharing ice cream, or feeding each other ravioli at the nice Italian trattoria, but I usually do all that alone.  I am in no shape to even allow myself that indulgence with another, or in front of anyone.  Instead I gorge on a large popcorn in a theatre, or eat a Whopper in my car in a BK parking lot, listening to sports radio, by myself, and in the moment it's paradise.  I love the quiet, and the not being bothered, but like most vices - sex, drugs, and yes, food - it leaves me empty, and depressed five minutes afterward, and that's when I think most about how it would be nice to do this with another human.

Working on that.