It was a cold November day 41 years a go. A petite woman from a petite family gave birth to a fat baby girl. She was a big girl and stayed a big girl from that day forward. The doctor said she was "off the charts." This isn't good news for a rock band, it wasn't good news for this young girl. As time went on, the fat girl went to school where kids were mean to her. She went home crying and her Dad said, "Baby, I can't go to school and beat all those kids up for you, you are going to have to get thicker skin." It broke his heart to see his fat little daughter upset, but what could he do? And so, the fat girl grew into a fat teenager. She went to nutritionists, went on diets, went to see the doctor - none of which helped. Her parents did not know what to do.
The fat teenager was sad as time went on and she wanted to be normal like the rest of the kids. In retrospect, wearing that one pair of ugly leg warmers in the 6th grade was a bad idea, but those were the only ones that would fit. She didn't know fat girls shouldn't wear those. And then, she liked a boy in middle school and he called her Jabba the Butt. Isn't he a clever little asshole? And so, her skin became thicker than ever and her sarcasm and self-loathing humor intensified. Isn't the fat girl funny? She was. And then high school. There was no sweet 16 kiss, there was no date to the prom, there was no boyfriend in high school. She was a girl that "would be pretty if she just lost some weight," as some said. But she was funny and she was talented and she was strong on the outside in all the ways that counted. Never mind her heart was broken.
After high school and into college she spent the next ten years thinking that no one would love her because she was too fat and hid from the whole dating scene. One day, she realized she might die the last American virgin, and so, she put herself out there and found that there were people that would like her and even found one that would love her for who she was. He not only loved her, he thought she was beautiful. Sure, he was half-blind, but that just meant he saw her heart. The fat girl thought this would be enough. To be loved. She was wrong, because after time she realized, she did not love herself and her body was breaking down. She no longer found joy in the things she loved. And so, her journey in trying to lose weight intensified as never before.
That is my story...well, the first half. The reason for me sharing this story, as pathetic as it may be, is to bring up my current plan of action. I wasn't going to talk about it or tell anyone. My weight loss journey is personal. It's painful. It's full of failures and trial and error. It's full of people judging me and my choices. For all of those reasons, I just wanted to keep it under wraps. I shared my lap band removal story because it was what was happening and it was a choice I made that did not work and I was at peace with that. The part of the story I was not sure I wanted to share is that, tomorrow, I am going to have the Gastric Sleeve procedure. A procedure where they will take up to 80% of my stomach out and make it so that I can only eat 3/4 of a cup of food at a time. It's drastic. It scares me a little bit, to be honest, but it is a choice I have made so that I can live my life and not just survive it. I really don't need anyone's opinion about it. I don't need questions about it. But, I'm an open person, I'm not going to hide it.
I think it is humorous when people say that weight loss surgery is the easy way out. The process leading up to this choice has not been easy. The process of having surgery will not be easy. The life long change in eating habits is not easy. And, I could die as a result. But I might die if I do nothing. To everyone that says, that I am not accepting who I am. Bite me. Live in my body for a day. I think that whole "Big is Beautiful" thing is crap. I'm not saying that big girls aren't beautiful, but I don't buy into the whole "more cushion for the pushin" or there being more of me to love. I don't know about anyone else out there, but I'd like less cushion during sex. It's a lot going on and I'd like to be able to do half the positions in any given sex book. I don't see "The Blob" listed in any sex book as a killer orgasmic move. So, save it Big diva's. And, another thing, there is nothing sexy about peeling off multiple layers of clothes, then having your man try and get you our of your Pranx in the heat of the moment. They are rolling up, one boob is out, then your arms are over your head and you're stuck. A real seductive move. Then, your tights, that were made for an Amazon woman, go all the way up to your boobs and you look like a stuffed sausage. Again, not sexy, I don't care how blind my man is. And yes, there are men that prefer women that are bigger, but there are also men that will have sex with a cantelope, so really, save that argument.
And, don't get me started on the clothes. I will probably never escape from the Pranx, especially if I do lose a lot of weight, because I'll have all this skin to contain. Check and check mate, Pranx. You bastards. I'm sick of shopping at Porky's Place in any given department store, or as they call it, Women's World. It's not a world I enjoy. A world of stretch fabrics, jeggings, mu-mu's and an elastic waist. All the while some little skinny pop tart of a girl helps you find your "dream jeggings." I'm over it. I hate it. I'm tired of walking through and entire floor at Macy's that I can't even shop at.
To those that say that I could lose all the weight with my diet, you clearly don't know what it is like to be a life-long fat person. You know, just because I might share about a day that I had too much chocolate, that doesn't mean I spend every day like hat. You little crack-whore, you don't get to call me out for sharing about a bad day. What about the bad day where someone goes home and drinks, does drugs, chain smokes, enjoys retail therapy, kicks the dog, yells at their kids, etc. All forms of abuse. All forms of imperfection. Me having a bad day eating chocolate for one day does not mean I am clueless and deserve to be fat and that I've done it to myself. It means I'm human.
Anyway, this is a lot of rambling to say, this is what is going on with me. I hope my guts don't explode again. I hope I do get to go on another unicorn ride. I hope I don't die. I hope recovery isn't incredibly painful. I hope I succeed in losing weight for the first time in my life and maybe one day I walk past a mirror and take a moment to linger and look instead of shuddering and being full of shame. And to those people that want me to be angry and share funny stories. That won't stop with losing weight. I won't lose who I am. I'm still an angry pony full of stories to tell (regardless of how boring I've been lately). I'm just hoping they will be better as I get to do more and get out there and really involve myself in life. And, if you are reading this and you are overweight, I don't judge you, I don't dislike you, I don't tell you to lose weight, I won't tell you this is the answer for you and I don't tell you that you are not beautiful. Hell, you might have a sex life that rivals any Victoria Secret model. I don't care. That is your story. This is mine.
The fat teenager was sad as time went on and she wanted to be normal like the rest of the kids. In retrospect, wearing that one pair of ugly leg warmers in the 6th grade was a bad idea, but those were the only ones that would fit. She didn't know fat girls shouldn't wear those. And then, she liked a boy in middle school and he called her Jabba the Butt. Isn't he a clever little asshole? And so, her skin became thicker than ever and her sarcasm and self-loathing humor intensified. Isn't the fat girl funny? She was. And then high school. There was no sweet 16 kiss, there was no date to the prom, there was no boyfriend in high school. She was a girl that "would be pretty if she just lost some weight," as some said. But she was funny and she was talented and she was strong on the outside in all the ways that counted. Never mind her heart was broken.
After high school and into college she spent the next ten years thinking that no one would love her because she was too fat and hid from the whole dating scene. One day, she realized she might die the last American virgin, and so, she put herself out there and found that there were people that would like her and even found one that would love her for who she was. He not only loved her, he thought she was beautiful. Sure, he was half-blind, but that just meant he saw her heart. The fat girl thought this would be enough. To be loved. She was wrong, because after time she realized, she did not love herself and her body was breaking down. She no longer found joy in the things she loved. And so, her journey in trying to lose weight intensified as never before.
That is my story...well, the first half. The reason for me sharing this story, as pathetic as it may be, is to bring up my current plan of action. I wasn't going to talk about it or tell anyone. My weight loss journey is personal. It's painful. It's full of failures and trial and error. It's full of people judging me and my choices. For all of those reasons, I just wanted to keep it under wraps. I shared my lap band removal story because it was what was happening and it was a choice I made that did not work and I was at peace with that. The part of the story I was not sure I wanted to share is that, tomorrow, I am going to have the Gastric Sleeve procedure. A procedure where they will take up to 80% of my stomach out and make it so that I can only eat 3/4 of a cup of food at a time. It's drastic. It scares me a little bit, to be honest, but it is a choice I have made so that I can live my life and not just survive it. I really don't need anyone's opinion about it. I don't need questions about it. But, I'm an open person, I'm not going to hide it.
I think it is humorous when people say that weight loss surgery is the easy way out. The process leading up to this choice has not been easy. The process of having surgery will not be easy. The life long change in eating habits is not easy. And, I could die as a result. But I might die if I do nothing. To everyone that says, that I am not accepting who I am. Bite me. Live in my body for a day. I think that whole "Big is Beautiful" thing is crap. I'm not saying that big girls aren't beautiful, but I don't buy into the whole "more cushion for the pushin" or there being more of me to love. I don't know about anyone else out there, but I'd like less cushion during sex. It's a lot going on and I'd like to be able to do half the positions in any given sex book. I don't see "The Blob" listed in any sex book as a killer orgasmic move. So, save it Big diva's. And, another thing, there is nothing sexy about peeling off multiple layers of clothes, then having your man try and get you our of your Pranx in the heat of the moment. They are rolling up, one boob is out, then your arms are over your head and you're stuck. A real seductive move. Then, your tights, that were made for an Amazon woman, go all the way up to your boobs and you look like a stuffed sausage. Again, not sexy, I don't care how blind my man is. And yes, there are men that prefer women that are bigger, but there are also men that will have sex with a cantelope, so really, save that argument.
And, don't get me started on the clothes. I will probably never escape from the Pranx, especially if I do lose a lot of weight, because I'll have all this skin to contain. Check and check mate, Pranx. You bastards. I'm sick of shopping at Porky's Place in any given department store, or as they call it, Women's World. It's not a world I enjoy. A world of stretch fabrics, jeggings, mu-mu's and an elastic waist. All the while some little skinny pop tart of a girl helps you find your "dream jeggings." I'm over it. I hate it. I'm tired of walking through and entire floor at Macy's that I can't even shop at.
To those that say that I could lose all the weight with my diet, you clearly don't know what it is like to be a life-long fat person. You know, just because I might share about a day that I had too much chocolate, that doesn't mean I spend every day like hat. You little crack-whore, you don't get to call me out for sharing about a bad day. What about the bad day where someone goes home and drinks, does drugs, chain smokes, enjoys retail therapy, kicks the dog, yells at their kids, etc. All forms of abuse. All forms of imperfection. Me having a bad day eating chocolate for one day does not mean I am clueless and deserve to be fat and that I've done it to myself. It means I'm human.
Anyway, this is a lot of rambling to say, this is what is going on with me. I hope my guts don't explode again. I hope I do get to go on another unicorn ride. I hope I don't die. I hope recovery isn't incredibly painful. I hope I succeed in losing weight for the first time in my life and maybe one day I walk past a mirror and take a moment to linger and look instead of shuddering and being full of shame. And to those people that want me to be angry and share funny stories. That won't stop with losing weight. I won't lose who I am. I'm still an angry pony full of stories to tell (regardless of how boring I've been lately). I'm just hoping they will be better as I get to do more and get out there and really involve myself in life. And, if you are reading this and you are overweight, I don't judge you, I don't dislike you, I don't tell you to lose weight, I won't tell you this is the answer for you and I don't tell you that you are not beautiful. Hell, you might have a sex life that rivals any Victoria Secret model. I don't care. That is your story. This is mine.
:)
ReplyDeleteYou made me tear up.:( And remember some some girls making fun of you at the fair, that made me mad, now I wish I would of punched them. Best of luck to you, I hope you have an easy recovery and great success! I'll keep you in my prayers.
ReplyDeleteYou were a good friend, that was way more important than beating anyone up!
ReplyDeleteI guess it wouldn't have helped anything either. It just makes me so mad that people stomp on people like that, over size of all things, and you had to put up with that your whole life. Don't they have enough of their own crap to worry about?
DeleteBest of luck!:)
I always hoped you would consider the choice so many others have made. You will get so much freedom and pleasure in simple tasks because they won't hurt any more. You deserve all the happiness one could have. God bless you and love yourself Everyday!
ReplyDeleteDeanna Powers