The Weight to be Me

“Sometimes when we’re out in public, I get embarrassed that you are so much bigger than I am.”

I sat there stunned in a fancy Toronto hotel room where I’d just spent what I thought was a romantic week with my new boyfriend. A few minutes later, he took a deep breath “Wow. I feel so much closer to you now that I got that out.”  

“You know what? I don’t think it’s so much about me being bigger, than it is about you feeling small.” Yep. That whole conversation took place within the first few months of dating the man who would eventually become my ex-husband. And while I was proud of myself for coming up with that response (and we did seem to get closer by talking it out), a woman with more self-esteem probably wouldn’t have moved forward in a relationship with someone capable of such insensitivity, let alone marry him.

We enjoyed each other’s company, but my ex and I just didn’t have a lot in common. We met via mutual friends in a 12-Step program, and bonded over sobriety, but that was about it. The differences in what we liked to do for fun were pretty glaring. For example, I’m a domestic goddess, whereas he loved the great outdoors. I enjoy cooking and entertaining, he liked hiking and skiing. He was a big fan of “cowboy camping” (no tents or services), and I’m really more of a “glamper” than a camper. I wanted so much to see us as happily ever after that I was unwilling to admit how incompatible we were. And what was lying underneath the differences in our choice of activities covered up much bigger issues in our relationship (like whether or not to have kids).

Two months before our wedding, we signed up to become certified scuba divers. He wanted to go diving in Hawaii on our honeymoon, and I agreed to it because I wanted to make my adventure-loving fiancé happy. I’ve never been remotely athletic, I’m not much into swimming, and I was definitely not excited to go exploring the depths of Puget Sound. But in the name of love, I made a choice to set aside all my fears of what lurked under ocean waters (and up until that point in my life had zero interest in ever finding out).

Before my first time out I was fitted for a wet suit (a profound moment of humiliation that I’ll never forget). It’s pretty disconcerting being a plus-sized woman about to embark on what can be a dangerous activity when the scuba store staff doesn’t seem prepared to deal with a fuller feminine shape. They did their best, and we settled on a men’s XL. Good times.

What could be more thrilling than putting on a skin-tight wetsuit for the first time, outside, in front of strangers and my body-shaming fiancé? My knuckles became skinned because of the effort it took to get that tight sucker on. The instructors started tucking multiple weights into my wet suit to help my curvy body plummet into the depths of the unknown. That was followed by a clumsy walk into the water wearing fins, trying not to slip on rocks while trying to manage the weight of a tank, regulator and other necessary diving tools. Afterwards I was ravenous, exhausted, and my hips were peppered in bruises from the added weights stuffed into my suit. But I was also energized to discover I had the guts to do something that was way out of my comfort zone.  

“You’ve got this Mia. Just stay calm and focused.” The instructors were so supportive. Despite all my fear and anxiety, I got my certification. And while I never really enjoyed the chilly waters of the northwest, what we explored in Kauai and Maui was absolute nirvana. We had an extraordinary honeymoon and had a great time going on multiple dives together. The water was crystal clear, I could wear a short-suit, and I didn’t need as many weights to descend. I fell in love with all the colorful fish, delighted in the giant sea turtles, and came face to face with sharks and creepy eels with curiousity, not terror. But the best part was getting to tread lightly and gracefully underwater while not disrupting all the natural beauty that was around me. I was exposed to a level of wonder about the underworld that brought me profound inner peace and a deeper spiritual connection I didn’t even know I was looking for. 

Over the next few years, it had become impossible for me to keep painting all the red flags green. The diving, as well as our other attempts at shared activites, became far and few between, and our marriage eventually fell apart. 

Once we divorced, I found myself in a different kind of submerged experience, navigating the pain that became a part of my every waking moment. I felt a sense of failure and carried a heaviness that was a lot like being weighted down for diving, only in this case, it was with grief.  I still showed up for all the things – work, family, time with friends – but everywhere I went, I would strap on that weight of sadness and take it along with me. It was just the way my life was going to be for a while. Until it wasn’t.  

Please help me. I can’t go on feeling this fragile. I’m not religious, but after yet another sleepless night, I’d reach my threashold of pain and got down on my knees and surrendered. It had been well over a year of feeling drained and emotionally bruised, and I was ready to let it all go. In order to move forward with my life, I knew something had to give.

Doing something you don’t like, for someone you do, can be a recipe for disaster – and it can cause discomfort and wreckage in any relationship. Scuba diving seemed really scary, and I felt so out of place and awkward. But then it became exhilarating and it guided me in ways I never would have expected.  By facing my fears of the unknown, diving with sharks, and so many other-worldly creatures – I found I could breathe under water and just do the next indicated thing, while still being present. I could take note of the beauty that was still all around me – the family and friends that were always there for me unconditionally, a sweet step-son that is still a part of my life, and the chance to find my way back into the performing arts and other activities I enjoyed.

My diving skills proved to be quite useful while going through the heartache of divorce, and then embarking on the next chapter of my life. I found I was brave enough to go through love and loss, and hang in there through the grief. I made a connection to the survivor I didn’t know existed within me, and discovered a woman who could be left behind by a man who didn’t get her at all…and thrive. 

Building a new life after divorce wasn’t easy, but I discovered I am more buoyant than ever.