Dear Madam,
Today, as I crossed paths with you in the parking lot of an outlet mall, I noticed your car’s windows were rolled up, likely to combat the sweltering heat. Your hair looked lovely as you approached.
For a brief moment, I held onto a glimmer of hope that you would show understanding. I had stopped in a fire lane momentarily, which required you to navigate around me. Although I didn’t cause you any significant delay, I recognize that my action was inconsiderate.
What you don’t realize is that my car was positioned near the sidewalk because I was delivering a hot meal and a refreshing drink to a hungry, homeless individual. I would have parked further away and walked it to him, but the nearest spot was too distant for me to manage, especially in this heat. On cooler days, I could have made the trek, but today was particularly stifling. Without a functional air conditioner in my car, my health issues, including breathing difficulties, are exacerbated.
As you approached, I quietly uttered an apology and prepared to wave in appreciation for your patience. Beads of sweat were trickling down my forehead. “This heat… I need to see if I have my inhaler,” I thought.
I turned my steering wheel to the left, trying to stay as far from your path as possible. In reality, there was ample space for you to pass; we were the only two vehicles at that moment.
When our bumpers nearly touched, I noticed a young girl seated beside you in the passenger seat. Our eyes met for a moment. I saw you gesture towards me, and as I raised my hand in acknowledgment, I shifted my gaze to meet yours. Though I couldn’t hear your words due to an auditory impairment, I am proficient in reading lips.
I wish you had offered a smile instead of a reprimand regarding my appearance.
My eyes welled with tears as I deciphered your message. I felt ashamed for leaving the house, angry for having eaten today—something that is often a struggle for my family. The heat intensified the warmth in my cheeks, and I struggled to catch my breath. I wiped my eyes, realizing it wasn’t sweat.
I want you to understand that many women like me grapple with eating disorders that rarely lead to actual weight loss. Instead, they result in scars on our bodies and empty hearts. Although purging hasn’t been a part of my life for some time, in that moment, my frantic mind yearned for a restroom to erase the shame of eating.
Your words aren’t the cause of my inner turmoil, and I don’t expect you to bear that burden. However, as you shouted at me, I caught a glimpse of the girl in your car. The phrase “fat b*tch” is unmistakable, and it lingers in the air like a slow-motion blow.
I didn’t have the luxury of anger towards you at that moment; my heart ached for that young girl. You may not realize it, but by shaming me, you hindered her. She learned today that her worth is tied to her appearance, and that women must walk a precarious tightrope, constantly fearing they are not enough.
So, to be clear, my weight, my struggles with bulimia, and my self-esteem aren’t your responsibility. We are each accountable for our own feelings and actions. However, you missed an opportunity to teach that girl compassion and solidarity. Instead, you pushed her away from understanding and kindness.
Tonight, my heart is heavy for all of us. I mourn for that little girl and the woman she could potentially uplift in the future, but may hesitate to do so due to the example she witnessed today.
We will not change the world through negativity. Tomorrow offers us both a fresh start. Will you join me in choosing a different path?
In solidarity,
Tessa
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Summary
In this heartfelt letter, Tessa addresses a woman who insulted her in a parking lot, reflecting on the impact of negative words on self-esteem and the importance of compassion. Tessa emphasizes that while personal struggles are individual, the way we treat others shapes the next generation. She invites the woman to join her in fostering kindness and understanding.