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The Power to Hurt

In the long-ago summer of 1986 I was 19 years young, had just squeaked through my first year of university, and was back in what I considered to be my hometown to look for a job.

Not exactly sure what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go with my life, but needing an income while I figured it out, I decided that my best bet would be to follow on with my high school work experience and apply for a position in retail. I set up my somewhat sparse résumé, bought a ghastly (in retrospect) pale yellow interview suit (because even though I’d never actually dress that way for a retail position, I’d always been taught that you HAD to wear a suit for an interview), and began to pound the pavement.

Not too far along in my search I received a call from a woman at a major chain pharmacy, asking me if I would like to come in for an interview for a position as a cashier at her store. Would I?! The thought of the store’s above-minimum wage pay rates, bright and modern environment, discounts on drugstore products, and opportunities for advancement made it a no-brainer… and the fact that I’d actually spent my last year of high school working part-time at a pharmacy gave me an extra boost of confidence. I could DO this job!

I donned my suit and tucked a copy of my résumé into an envelope, then excitedly headed over to the pharmacy earlier than the scheduled time for my chance at an interview. I scaled a long staircase to the offices on the second floor, above the store, and introduced myself with a smile to the woman who had the power to decide whether I was to become her newest employee.

She was slim, impeccably dressed, with straight dark hair and a pair of reading glasses through which she looked down her nose at my résumé, then over at me. I’ve always been rather shy and lacking in self-confidence, so her “togetherness” felt a little intimidating; still, I held on to the knowledge that my previous experience and abilities made me a shoe-in for the position, and gathered my courage to proceed with the interview.

I thought at first that everything was going well. She rattled off a string of standard interview questions – “Why do you want to work for our company?” “What is your greatest strength? Greatest weakness?” “Where do you see yourself in five years?” – and I responded with what I believed to be confidence and competence, waiting for the moment when she would tell me that I was exactly the person she’d been looking for, and offer me the job.

Then the bomb dropped.

Slowly taking off her reading glasses, she looked me up and down with what I can only describe as distaste, then said coldly, “I’m concerned that you wouldn’t be able to do this job because you’re overweight.”

At that moment, every ounce of my scraped-together self-confidence dissolved in a hot flush of embarrassment and shame. I stammered something about how my weight had never held me back in any previous job, but quickly realized that despite her open-ended phrasing, her comment wasn’t actually a request for reassurance, but rather a firm dismissal. So I left the room, humiliated and close to tears, the interview over.

And no, I didn’t get the job.

In the days to come I tried to comfort myself with reminders that it was she who had lost out, not me, by missing the opportunity to hire an excellent employee… that I wouldn’t really want to work for someone that judgmental anyway… that obviously there was something far better for me out there – I just had to be patient.

But, though I didn’t fully realize it at the time, the fragile framework of identity and positive self-image that I’d begun to build as an insecure young adult had crumpled with that thoughtless blow.

Yes, according to the charts, carrying 140 pounds or so on my 5′ 4½” frame did classify me as overweight. I knew it. That bit of information dealt in the interviewer’s blunt observation wasn’t a surprise to me – I’d been fighting to get my weight under control since my early teens, in an assortment of healthy and not-so-healthy ways, with varying degrees of success. She didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know.

And perhaps she meant well. Perhaps she thought that by giving me a quick jolt of the harsh realities of life in a competitive world and job market, I’d realize the error of my well-padded, overeating, self-indulgent ways. Perhaps she felt she was doing me a favour.

But the fact that this stranger judged and dismissed me – my character, my abilities, everything I had to offer – based solely on an external quality, reinforced something that I had long suspected but desperately hoped wasn’t true: that in this world, all the good things I could bring to the table – loyalty, commitment, honesty, hard work, dedication – were secondary to my weight.

If you’re fat, nothing else matters.

I know that’s not actually true. I know it. And at times I can even laugh at the ridiculous notion that a person with maybe 20 pounds to lose wouldn’t have the endurance necessary to handle a job as a cashier. Yet now, more than a quarter of a century after that horrific interview, and despite hundreds of reassurances to the contrary, that woman’s snap judgment – and, more importantly, her decision to share it with me – still shores up my insecurities.

I wish I could say that I’m totally over it. While on the one hand I would without hesitation go back in time to hug that humiliated 19-year-old and reassure her of her beauty, talent, and worth, the woman I am right now still fights a mental battle daily, struggling to believe those very same things.

Please, please know that your words have power – power to heal or hurt, to build up or tear down, to encourage or disparage.

And please, please remember it.


Laurel Storey, CZT – Certified Zentangle Teacher. Writer, reader, tangler, iPhoneographer, cat herder, learner of French and Italian, crocheter, needle felter, on-and-off politics junkie, 80s music trivia freak, ongoing work in progress.

{ 15 comments… add one }
  • Lorinda J. Taylor
    August 3, 2013

    Well, I find that woman’s behavior absolutely reprehensible! In the first place, 140 lbs on 5’4 1/2″ is a long way from obese. I have worked with any number of people in my life who were far heavier than that and who did their jobs perfectly well! I would say that woman is the one with the problem! There must have been some other reason why she turned you away. Probably she had already picked out somebody for the job (a friend maybe) or she didn’t like the color of your eyes or the way you crossed your legs. So, as my mother always said, consider the source!
    Lorinda J. Taylor recently posted… The Man Who Found Birds among the Stars, Ch. 12, Pt. 2My Profile

    • Laurel Regan
      August 4, 2013

      I am far heavier now than I was at 19, and I can move mountains… so she had no clue about my abilities or endurance! Thank you for your encouragement. 🙂

  • great article. I fear job interviews for this very reason.

  • V-Grrrl August 3, 2013

    Applying and interviewing for jobs is always trying. It was horrible and unprofessional of her to speak to you that way.

    I’m pretty sure I’ve been rejected from jobs because of my age and not much else. That’s depressing too, and reinforces the erroneous idea that I am all washed up at this point.
    V-Grrrl recently posted… Friday afternoon on FacebookMy Profile

  • Marcy August 4, 2013

    Whoa. I’m 5’5″ and about 135…. I cannot see how you would be considered so “overweight” as to be incapable of doing that job! What a wretched woman…. Isn’t it amazing how just a few pointed words from some stranger can cause so much harm, overriding so many more reassurances from others? I’m sorry you had someone say such a bigoted and thoughtless thing to you.
    Marcy recently posted… Pinch Me – my sweet summer concert & road trip experienceMy Profile

  • Winnie August 4, 2013

    Your post hurt my heart, but then I enjoyed how you ended the piece on a positive way. I am overweight, and have had cruel words spoken to me by strangers. Not when I was young, but in adulthood, by “adults”. Words hurt more than a punch sometimes. People need to be mindful. I always remember the story of Karen Carpenter hearing she needed to “lose a few pounds” and recall her downward spiral. I am sure people who are overweight, are aware they are. Some struggle from low self esteem to start with, why inflict additional pain.

  • marika August 5, 2013

    I know exactly how you felt – and still do on some days.
    marika recently posted… Hungry Like The WolfMy Profile

  • Marie at the Lazy W
    August 5, 2013

    Wow, ouch. Excellent reminder to watch our thoughts and words, thank you for sharing something so private. I am guessing that her judgement and choice to share it with you says everything about what was going on in her own heart at that time, which cannot have been pleasant or loving.

  • sandra tyler August 11, 2013

    well, that’s straight forward discrimination. And despite that, doesn’t sound like a person or place you’d like to be working for or at. But not an easy hurt to overcome at really, a tender age, of 19.


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