A lot of research. I wanted the best.
Every August since 2012, I try to remember the day I took an important step toward recovery from food addiction — bariatric surgery.
This is not for everyone. It took me years and years of self-flagellation and physical torture — asthma, chronic body pain, joints constantly swollen, bone on bone, heart issues, arthritis, skin diseases and rashes and body odor and a thousand other things that I don’t even remember because it’s been so long — for me to finally surrender.
It’s not about vanity, folks. It’s about honoring the human form in which my spirit dwells. Which, if I had not done what I had done, might already be six feet under.
That woman in the first picture? She’s a good person, I know that. She’s not ugly either. She does the best with what she’s got.
But she’s only smiling on the outside. She is terrified about the surgery she is undergoing the following day. She has not had solid food in two weeks and has, hopefully, dropped the required 10 percent of her body weight in order to go through with the operation — in this case, 22.5 pounds.
For this full body photo — something that she has spent her entire adult life avoiding — she is turned sideways, squished against someone else, holding in her stomach, arm held firmly at the side to hide her hip, one foot deftly poised on tiptoe to try to make the thighs look smaller. Every woman, and maybe every man, who has spent a lifetime being overweight knows all the tricks.
For the second full body photo, taken a few minutes ago….here I is. Gonna be 57 on October 3.
Other operations? You betcha. Curious? Ask me. I have no secrets about that.
I probably still shouldn’t be allowed to dress myself though. I look like a circus clown. 😀
Anyway, if you’re struggling with weight and self-image, know that I love you. A lot. It is hard — so hard — especially when people tell you that you’re fine, you’re fine where you are, you’re beautiful on both the inside and the outside, don’t change, you’re good. They don’t feel what you feel. I do. I’ve been there.
This is my personal story. There is an incredible stigma about taking steps to make ourselves look better. Even dying our hair is supposed to be a secret sometimes (unless you’re going neon blue — you know what I mean!)
I hope my story gives you hope, or courage, whether it’s about your physical, emotional, or spiritual state. For me, it’s a constant smorgasbord of choices, with learning and small failures and triumphs as I continue to grow. Three steps forward, one step back. That’s okay. In fact, that’s amazing.
Have a great day. I know I will, living in this insane gratitude that for me, a food addict who is STILL in recovery, this was a step that led, and is still leading, toward the Bridget that the Universe wants me to be.