unless we are proud of them.

Why again? Because we like to brag? Because we understand on some level that its all comparisons and competition and differences that make us who we are?

Or more like: who we THINK we are.

There are lots more things that we keep private too. I’m reminded of this after reading an article about Rihanna yesterday. She expressed our embarrassment at dealing with domestic violence. People don’t talk about it. Mostly because everyone out there is willing to throw an opinion or advice in your direction.

In that case, I can understand why. In many other cases, it all comes down to judgment.

And unfortunately, we’re all judgmental.

Maybe because of this I (openly admit) that I sometimes lose that filter I was taught to always maintain. Or maybe it’s because my best girlfriends have known me since I was 16. I barely remember my SAT score. But my friends and I openly discuss weight, rent, health insurance premiums, etc. When I say ‘friends’ I mean my two best girlfriends. And if we didn’t have that kind of honesty, I don’t know what I’d do.

My reaction to the questions depends on who asked the question. I have a friend who has no problem asking these things. I know she is not judging me and, frankly, I’m not insecure about the answers. I don’t really care. I think there’s a privacy issue with some of them but for the most part, these things don’t make me feel insecure.

I assume the questions are meant to be posed in a social setting, not in one where, perhaps, a professional opinion is involved and this information is required.

To ask the questions is, in my opinion, a bit gauche, though. I may not care about the answers but I know I’m probably not entirely in the majority. Most people don’t love those questions and so the person asking should recognize that and probably not ask. But probably depends on who asked and who they asked. I’d probably think the asker a bit socially stupid.

What the heck is an ERB score?

-R.

I would answer any and all of the questions if the context were right.

If the context weren’t right I would follow up any “inappropriate” question with “Why do you ask?” and if there is a good reason for asking then I’d answer the question.

I agree that Americans seem to be very competitive in everything, even children. It’s helped me greatly to know that behind every right number is a story. Like I have a friend with perfect weight and body shape and hair but she has bulimia. Another friend drives a fancy car and wears the most stylish clothing with her nice jewelry and Rolex watch but her marriage fell apart in February. Yet another friend is overweight and has a child with a disabilty and she has the most beautiful spirit and attitude ever.

Someone else I know has all the right numbers and when you get to know her you realize she is the real thing.

I like the stories behind the numbers.

numbers, stats, equations, decimals… that’s what i married my husband for… the yin to my yang.

but those who, like my husband, see numbers and such have my utmost respect and i am constantly amazed by them.

I did ask, regularly, Where did you go to school? – a question that used to be revealing when I lived in certain regions, and is no longer the case where I live now.

I have asked height (even of those I’ve not met – because I have a theory that some people write “tall”), and I have also provided shoe size – but only when someone cares to purchase me outlandishly overpriced art objects known as designer shoes, preferably French.

With my sons, there have been questions (they asked me) about my IQ, and my SATs and board scores. I answer them, but it’s no one else’s business, except (blushingly), I will admit that my elder son and I were in a bit of competition when he took his French board. It is something I was always proud of – my one 800. He scored in the high 700s and was pissed but laughed, because his French is damn good, but he didn’t get that perfect score.

But that’s okay – he and his brother both tower over me, and no, I will not say how tall I am, and rarely, how old I am. As for my weight – I tell the truth, and my bra size, I only answer when asked en français. That one, I have gotten on the other side of the Atlantic!

I’m with Gale.

When I have lived in Europe none of these questions are asked. We simply experience each other, savoring the process. All these stats are so much a part of our (yes, competitive) American culture, and highlight our preoccupation with surface information that is only a glimpse or an assumption about the many truths of a person or a life.

And context plays a huge role. When I lived in Manhattan, the subjects of rent, square footage, and condo fees came up all the time and people were surprisingly forthcoming about them. I asked; I answered. Traveling in the Netherlands, I found the people I met to be very open about the same topics. Here in the Midwest, I can’t imagine talking about how much I paid for my house or how high my mortgage payment is.

But I think housing matters are different from weight, age, and test scores. How much you pay in rent doesn’t get at the core of who you are – and therefore doesn’t feel as personal and potentially painful – quite as much as an objective measure of your body or brain.

Or, we can try not to. And that is the more difficult road to take.

I stopped weighing myself because it’s way too easy to get wrapped up in numbers. I’m not particularly insecure about my weight, but in ranges up and down about 10 pounds most of the time. For some reason I liked when that number ended in 2, even though I didn’t necessarily look or feel better when it was 2 rather than 5 or 7. Yet by weighing myself I felt like it mattered, and I wanted to get back to that arbitrary number. It’s kind of bizarre when you think about how these things mess with us — so I’ve stopped checking, I feel fine the way I am.

As for if someone asked me? I’d probably just tell them. I think a little part of people when they ask these kinds of things just want to unnerve you, tap into your insecurity, even if it’s unconscious. Not playing into the anxiety, even if you’re faking it, ends up catching them off guard.