Can I confess something? Not an "I ate too many girl scout cookies" kinda confession (something I did not do just in case you were wondering). But a straight up, on my heart, I feel bad just typing it kinda confession.
I don't wanna blog about my vacation.
Don't get me wrong it was wonderful, but I'm just not feeling it.
We hiked to falls. We swam in fresh water. We snorkeled in the ocean. We saw breaching whales. Up close.
But I just don't know how to put it in to words. Maybe its a perfectionist thing. I've been battling that monster since before vacation. All my life really, but he seems to have grown larger recently.
It as perfect as a vacation can be, and I know I'm going to do a horrible job relating that to you. Also? You've probably already seen the pictures on facebook so that'd be redundant.
While I'm confessing?
I'm a horrible person. The gross, icky kind that you don't wanna be friends with.
My first reaction upon seeing the morbidly obese woman walk toward our gate? Dear god please don't make me sit next to her. (The "g" in god is lower case because this certainly wasn't a real prayer to a real God.)
After Jay and I had boarded and had taken her seats. She got on the plane. Her discomfort was very obvious as she attempted to make her way up the aisle, knowing every eye was staring straight at her. Knowing every mind was thinking that same prayer I'd said moments earlier.
"I guess that'll teach me to wait to go to the bathroom." She tried to make a joke of getting on the plane after most everyone else had.
I waited until she got a couple rows past me then started sobbing. I made sure to be quiet, so she couldn't hear, but I couldn't hold the tears back.
How selfish are we that we presume that a few hours on plane next to an obese person could be any where near as uncomfortable as living her life? Dealing daily with the stares, the judging eyes.
Lord forgive us!