Emotional Healing

As I knew it would, the surgery has brought up a lot of emotions for me, some of which I’ll be able to explain here. Some I will not. Whatever it is I have to say, I hope there’s someone that needs to hear it.

I’m realizing now that I’ve put of the surgery for a few reasons, all of which are excuses. The real reasons is I was afraid. The EXACT same reasons I carried the weight to begin with. I wore my weight as a barrier and a protective blanket. When you’re morbidly obese it’s easier not to exist. People are uncomfortable by your presence. Children don’t understand how your body looks. People would rather not deal with you than be uncomfortable. Even though I know it’s making you cringe, it’s all true. This wasn’t my everyday but all those things happened to me. It was easier for me for you to not like me because I was fat, then for a reason that was really about me. It was easier to shove my weight problem in your face so you wouldn’t see my real demons. I was ok with you not inviting me because I was too heavy but not because you didn’t like me. Whoa. That was real.

The skin surgery has always been my final step. It’s the finish line of my journey. I knew I couldn’t cross that line being the same person, just without the weight. While I’ve slain a lot of demons over the last 6 years of keeping the weight off, there’s been a few at the back of the closet. I’m talking about the ones no one sees. The ones you haven’t seen in decades but always knew were there. In order for me to finally let the world see me and take off this protection, I had to be totally happy with who I was. So I’ve been keeping the skin as a way to continue to be disappointed with myself. If I keep hating that about myself, I’m distracted by it and can continue to pretend it’s what’s really bothering me.

I never looked at my body naked. Never. I didn’t want to see it when I was morbidly obese. Parts of me wondered why anyone would. As I lost the weight, I went through a phase where I didn’t care and felt really good about how my body looked. But I still didn’t look at myself naked. After I’d lost all the weight, it left my body looking weird and confusing. People aren’t sure what they are seeing in the locker room. And I hated it. I hated every minute of it. That body never felt like who I was either. I had spent so much time hating my body, hating parts of myself, that it just felt normal after a while. About a year ago now (I think I wrote about it then) I had a therapist ask me, “Are you ever going to not hate your body?” and I said no. That was my first step to this surgery. That day I knew I was stuck. Just as stuck as I had been at 300 pounds.

I never got used to my body with all that skin but boy did I get comfortable. In a way it was just so much easier to hate it. It’s easier to be afraid.

Of course I was terrified about the surgery. I could die. I could die for absolutely “no reason”. It’s gonna hurt like a MFer. It’s gonna be hard and uncomfortable. Better to just not to right? Let’s just keep putting it off. But honestly, I was more afraid of having the surgery and still hating my body. I was even more afraid of getting to that finish line and still hating who I was inside.

But it was time to find out.

I couldn’t pause my life any more. I couldn’t be ‘almost finished’ with my journey anymore. I had to know what was underneath. In the two weeks before my surgery, my life changed a lot. I had conversations that were super uncomfortable. I kept pulling skeleton after skeleton out and putting them to rest. I said some apologies and asked for a few. All because I had a hard due date. And it’s made me the happiest I’ve ever been.

The day of the surgery, I arrived with no fear about my emotions. I was terrified physically. All my anxiety was about the procedure but none of it was about how I’d feel about myself on the other side. I was ready to see and love a new Frankenbody that was going to make sense. For once. I went in knowing I was so in love with myself, there was nothing that could disappoint me on the other side.

When I said my goodbyes with my husband before surgery, I knew he was ready too. I knew in the words we exchanged that he truly loved me more than ever before. I had zero doubts that I was doing the right thing.

Within minutes of waking up, I was trying to feel my body and see if it was gone. I’ve never had a ‘normal’ adult body. I had very little time in college when I was average size. I’ve never ever been comfortable with my body. I’ve especially never loved my body. I cry now just thinking about seeing it for the first time. It’s a bit like they say losing a finger is, they say you can still feel it for a while. They say it takes your brain some rewiring to understand that it’s gone. That’s kinda what it’s like. The first words I said was “It’s perfect.”

Everyday the results of the surgery change and the view I see in the mirror changes. My proprioception (the understanding of where your body is in space) is a little strange. I go to put my hands on my belly and it’s not where I think it is. My legs cross differently. I have a belly button. My lady flower is where it’s supposed to be. I’m tiny!

But emotionally? I’ve loved it from the second I saw it. I didn’t know you could feel this way. Even totally separated and stitched and glued back together right now, this body makes more sense to me. This is the body I thought I had. This is the body I knew I could love. In so many ways, I feel like I’ve finally stepped into who I really am. And who I am is freaking amazing.