Mean girls........

You know exactly the kind of girls I’m talking about—the ones who think they’re cooler, prettier, or somehow better than everyone else. The ones who say mean things about you, to you, or behind your back. Bottom line: they’re mean. And honestly, who would ever want to be friends with them?

Let me take you back to what happened a few days ago.

Heather was feeling good, put on a cute sundress, and decided to run some errands. Keep in mind, her weight is still low and she’s lost so much muscle mass. She gets judged constantly—too thin, too fragile, and when her stomach swells, strangers ask when she’s due. (Spoiler: she’s not pregnant. She’s sick.)

Anyway, as she was carrying two grocery bags—one in each hand—she noticed a mom and her teenage daughter staring at her. Staring, pointing, and laughing. You can already feel where this story is going.

As they walked past Heather, the mom said loudly to her daughter, “Well, at least she can carry her food,” and then they cackled—literally cackled—like the mean girls they chose to be that day. They even looked back over their shoulders at her, still laughing, as they walked into the store.

Heather was stunned. She came straight home and told me the story. We talked about what she wanted to say. It’s always easier to find the perfect comeback after the moment has passed. Trust me, we came up with plenty. Here are the ones that are appropriate for posting (yes, sometimes I do have a filter):

1. Walk away with dignity—exactly what Heather did. Be grateful you don’t know them. Be grateful that woman is not your mother and you are not her daughter.

2. Walk up and tell them—politely or not—that although it is none of their business, she is dealing with a chronic illness and was recently released from the hospital.

3. Hand them one of the Lyme Awareness blog cards and educate them… except no, we decided we wouldn’t waste a card on those two.

4. My mother-bear response: I would have pulled the mom aside and said, in my best snarky voice, “You can pick your friends, you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your family.” Then I’d tell her it’s painfully obvious she’s doing a terrible job teaching her daughter basic kindness and social graces. And I’d let her know that Heather has been sick for 18 months.

5. My unfiltered response: whispering in the mom’s ear that she is a mean-spirited, heartless, ignorant woman who has absolutely no idea what Heather has been dealing with. (Use your imagination for the uncensored version.)

6. Stoop to their level and say, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me.” Except that rhyme is nonsense—we all know words hurt, and you can’t take them back.

And yes, did you notice? I took the high road and didn’t attack the daughter. Sure, she should have known better, but the mother… the mother is the one who lit the match. Mess with my daughter and it’s game on, beeatch. (Look at me using urban slang.) My revenge? I’ll blog about you. So there.

Honestly, blogging is pretty therapeutic. Get fired up, write it out, save, post… done, done, and done. Bye-bye, mean girls. Karma will take it from here.

Okay… I can breathe again now.

This isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last time, that someone makes fun of Heather—or me. But whenever it happens, it still stings.

If you’ve been following my blog, you already know I’ve written about not judging a book by its cover. I could go on about this mother–daughter duo, but they don’t deserve another sentence. I’ve said enough.

So let’s end on a happy note.

Heather is eating more, getting stronger, going to appointments, pushing for answers, and staying focused. She handled this entire situation with grace and dignity—far more than those two ever will.

I love you, Heather. Once again, I want to be you when I grow up.

xo,
Lisa