Remember that time when I was getting a massage and I had to leave the office to go into another office to get to the bathroom and I was just wearing a robe and someone saw me, even though usually no one is ever in there? It was like one of those dreams where you’re forced to walk around naked. Or without shoes. Or in your bathrobe. Except in real life.
Isn’t it funny how things that are funny on TV are mortifying in real life? Like, that would have been a great episode on Seinfeld. I guess watching it on TV is sort of like dreaming, because in both scenarios you think, I’m so glad that didn’t happen to me!
Well, I just got an embarrassing massage story that tops the bathrobe one.
Yesterday I had my first massage in about 3 months. I was long overdue and was really looking forward to easing my muscle tension. But then the very first thing massage lady says to me is, “I thought last time you were pregnant and now I see you really are! Congratulations!”
There are so many insulting things about that sentence. Three months ago, before COVID weight gain, she already thought I was pregnant. But now I look 3 months-into-pregnancy fatter than that. Which would be around 8 months pregnant, maybe.
And she didn’t just ask if I was pregnant, which would have been bad enough. When I was in 5th grade, my family was at this elementary school festival and my brother asked this teacher if she was pregnant, and she wasn’t. And even at the tender age of 10, I understood that you should never ask a woman if she’s pregnant. Let alone tell someone that they are for sure pregnant. That the only thing left to say is congratulations.
I admit, I wasn’t very active during quarantine. Like many people, even though I had time to work out, I was unmotivated, struggling with depression and anxiety. I’m still struggling with depression and anxiety, actually, but since things have opened up I’ve been playing more tennis. And I just started working with a personal trainer. So I’m doing the best that I can.
And as you know, I do obsess about feeling fat, gaining weight, aging, and all that stuff. Even though people say I look young, and my boyfriend thinks I look great. I try to reassure myself it’s all in my head. But apparently it’s in my gut, too.
My boyfriend said he felt sorry for her. And I do, too. I would never be able to forget a faux pas that big. Or any mistake I’ve ever made because of my OCD. But I feel sorrier for me, because I’m never going to be able to forget what she said either because of my OCD. I gave her $1 less of a tip than I ordinarily do as a way to discourage her from insulting me. But it was still 20%, so I was still pretty generous, in case you’re judging me.
On the bright side, there are 2 positives that came out of this incident. When I told my friend about what happened, she said that was actually a compliment because she thought I was young enough to get pregnant. Which is true. I can get in better shape, but I can’t get any younger.
The other plus is that I can write a funny blog post and take a break from trauma and family crises. Which is something.