I'm a jerk

I discovered today that I'm a jerk. 

This afternoon, I went to a picnic with some other 40-somethings... men and women. Some are parents. Some are not. Some are married. Some are not. When I arrived, we were greeted by an old friend, male. It has been a few years since we last saw him, and while my first thought was, "give me a big hug, I've missed you," my second thought was, "huh, he gained weight since the last time we saw him." I'm a jerk, right? Then I wondered, what is he thinking about me? What about me has changed for the worse since the last time we were together? Are my hips bigger? Did my butt grow two sizes? Do I look old?

These are the thoughts that go through my head when I interact with people, especially people that I don't see on a regular basis. But even the ones that I see on a regular basis, sometimes I think, "How can you stand being that heavy? Isn't that uncomfortable? How do you go to the bathroom?" Shallow, right? See, I told you that I'm a jerk.

Most of the other people at the picnic today were people I didn't know. They all were perfectly nice, but you know what my first thought was when I met each of them? Yup, you guessed it. "Huh, you're a little chubby." 

What the heck is wrong with me? Why am I so hung up on people's physical appearance? Although I am hung up on it, I don't like anyone any less because of their weight, height, or appearance. In fact, I bet that I see beauty in people that other people find it hard to see. But these are just things I notice. It works in the other direction, too. And of course, with those people I wonder, "How does he/she stay so thin? I see all those cookies they're eating." And soon, that turns to, "it's just not fair" and "why can't I eat whatever I want and stay thin like that, too?"

Am I so critical of other people's appearance because I'm so critical of my own appearance (all of those things I thought about everyone else today, I also think about myself)? Or is it the other way around? Or doesn't it matter? Am I just a jerk and an idiot? The women I met today seemed to be so comfortable in their own, imperfect bodies. Why can't I have that confidence? But I also wonder, "don't they know how terrible they look in those clothes that don't fit their bodies right?" I want to have confidence, but I also want to look good, no matter what my size. Why? I don't know. Am I vain? How did I get this way? And the better question is how do I keep from passing this ridiculousness on to my daughter? I don't want her to be like me. I want her to see the world through eyes that don't notice the imperfections on others or herself. I want her to love herself, and be confident. How do I teach her that when I can't do it myself?