The Weight

A reading from the body of 1996, 2006

The Sixes, Pair 3, Part 1

Mon. March 18, 1996 Whitney Avenue, Portland, Maine 6:30 pm

I did a stupid thing. I weighed myself at GNC while I was at the Mall getting my glasses fixed. I should first say that before I even put my quarter in the machine, the GNC guy said that the machine was “going heavy” lately. So maybe I don’t weigh quite 177 pound. I didn’t ask how off the machine was. Maybe two pounds, maybe twenty. I don’t know. I have no way of knowing now that I’m home.

And I didn’t need to weigh myself to know that I’ve gained more weight than usual this winter. Weight is such a big deal to me. As I was driving home, I thought about something one of the aircraft mechanics said to me shortly after I started working there.

He said, “You can’t handle all the attention you’re getting.”

I didn’t know what he meant, but today I did. I’m really not comfortable being complimented about my body and the men at Northeast Air are all eyes. They’re lascivious. I’ve never been able to use that word honestly before I started working there. They make me feel uncomfortable about being attractive. I don’t feel good when they look at me because I’m just a body to them, just tits and a big smile.

So among many contributing factors, I think I put on weight to protect myself from them, to make myself less desirable. I know enough now to know that weight doesn’t matter. It’s who I am. But I’ve been really uncomfortable there as a woman.

It was a man’s world on the flight line at the Portland Jetport in 1996 - pilots, instructors, mechanics, fuelers, de-icers. It was all guys except me and two other women. The attention was annoying, but to this day, my job as a general aviation assistant at Northeast Air is one of my all-time favorites. Check out that jet!