THE TRINITY

There are three distinct memories that I have from that approximate time when my relationship with food got weird. Not, bad, exactly, but just that; weird. I still have no idea how old I was, or where I was. But, here they are, absent of any order (Other than what is logical to me.)


#1: Brittany Diaz was my first best friend. I mean, I was friends with a lot of other kids by the time I turned 4, but she was the first best friend I actually CHOSE. Up until that point, I was basically grouped together with original members of Parent Ed and the Stroller Brigade, courtesy of Cathy Riley. My circle of "friends" was approximately 95% asian, and included several nasty little booger pickers, and one kid who peed his bed "3-5 times per week" (But I bet it was way more). So when Brittany moved in at the end of the street, I was glad to have an option, finally. I remember walking down the street, little hand reaching up to clasp a big one, with the sun beaming so hard that I was walking blind with eyes closed. And when I opened them, there, in place of the sun, was this little brown-haired girl perched high up on her father's shoulders. There was hand shaking and hugging and probably some bond-forging, but it blurred into the back of my mind years ago. That's not exactly the memory I'm talking about, but I'm getting to it. What I wanted you to know is that at that point, when I met and made my very first friend, at that point I didn't SEE people. I didn't look at them and judge them, fat or thin, tall, short, pretty, ugly, pretty ugly. My baby knowledge told my mind "Here is you, here is dad, here is her, here is them." Not even for a moment did I compare myself, doubt who I was now that another person existed.
The important memory is this. Everything is dark, suddenly, like it hasn't been before. And then I see Brittany, and she's bending over. She's picking up a doll, and I'm standing to the side clutching my doll tight and thinking, frantically, "Do I weigh more, or does Brittany weigh more?" And the moment slows as I gasp breath, and survey the person in front of me. I exhale. She's bigger than me, Brittany is bigger. I'm not fat, because Brittany is not fat, and she's bigger than me. I am OK. And then the memory is over and everything goes white. And that would be the first time I was ever concious of my body; the first time I ever felt so big that I knew I could have swallowed the universe.