Two Different Worlds

Let’s have a look at one situation, from the point of view of two separate people with two different minds…

Misty’s point of view:
Shawn keeps bringing home fast food. That’s fine. I’m not going to nag him to eat healthy. The problem is that he’s bringing home fast food for FOR TWO. I’ve begged him not to. I’ve asked him to call me first. Don’t just bring me food! I’m trying to eat healthy here and it’s like you know I can’t resist!

I considered that maybe he’s TRYING to fatten me up. Maybe he’s insecure and if I’m fat, I won’t be attractive to anyone else. Is that it? Why won’t he listen to me?

10:30PM one night, Shawn comes home announcing, “I brought you something!” He opens a bag of Taco Bell and pulls out foil wrapped cheese, fat, and carbs. Sigh.

“Are you TRYING to make me fat?!” I finally asked.

I’ve know Shawn over 20 years. The look on his face told me everything.

Shawn’s point of view from Misty’s perspective:
Shawn wants to do nice things for me because he loves me. He knows that I hate flowers because they die in a few days. I’d rather have a potted plant that will take me a couple years to kill (or 6 weeks because I forgot to water it).

Shawn brings home food because he knows food makes me happy. He doesn’t understand the mental anguish I go through. He doesn’t understand my love-hate relationship with food.

Shawn needs to be studied. He can eat whatever he wants, as much as he wants. I’ve told him, just because you’re thin, doesn’t mean you’re healthy.
A few years ago, Shawn had a blood clot in his arm. It wasn’t related to his eating habits or his pure addiction to soda. It was just one of those weird random things. I was at work when he called me after some blood work. “The doctor said my bad cholesterol is too low,” he said.

I called Shawn a liar. That same day, he produced a sheet of paper from the hospital with his stats. His BAD cholesterol was TOO LOW!

He’s a mutant and needs to be studied by scientists!

So, as I determine out loud that Shawn is trying to make sure I won’t fit through the front door so I’ll never escape, I watch his face. He brought me Chik-Fil-A because he knows I won’t go get it myself and it will make me happy.

How can I say no to that?