Maybe I'm amazed...

It's been a hot minute.

I needed a break from blogging. I needed to take some time and re-prioritize parts of my life. I also needed to reflect on what it is that I want to accomplish with this tiny little corner of the internet in which I have set up camp

That break has ended.

There is a lot I want to address. There are so many thoughts running through my noggin these days, but for a change, I'm going to focus on one topic to the best of my ability.

This time of the year, the beginning of a new trip for our planet around the sun, is so filled with possibility and promise.

Yet, I have a love/hate relationship with the beginning of the year.

I am always grateful for the promise that a new year of life brings. I wish time would slow down a bit so I could savor all of incredible things that my Father will do this year. On the other, I've already wished for time to speed up a bit this year and we're only 20 days in. I also know that if I end 2017 the exact same person I was when this year began, I will be disappointed, as I always want to better myself.

In a way, it will be hard to top 2016 for me. Personally, 2016 was a brilliant year for me.

Yet, this is why I also despise this time of year. Resolutions.

When magazine covers are filled with pictures and stories of incredible weight loss journeys.

For this time of year is when the enemy fills my head to shame me.

For a lot of those magazine covers make me feel less than, because those incredible weight loss transformations? They are only incredible if the weight loss was not thanks to surgery.

And that makes those supposedly inspirational stories ones of shame

For I feel that I'm not right because I resorted to surgery

It makes me wonder what the heck is wrong with me that I just couldn't exercise and eat smaller portions to achieve long lasting weight loss

And it's not helped by people who tell me I should be proud of my accomplishment

As how can it be an accomplishment if I had to have 3/4 of my stomach removed in order to achieve it, instead of just relying on willpower?

Maybe I'm just amazed at the wild ride I still find myself on, nearly two years post surgery.

I'm angry that a big deal is being made once more over plus size models being featured in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. Over swimsuit ads for Lane Bryant that actually show the model's stretchmarks. Over celebrities that are "daring" to show their actual postpartum bodies.

Perhaps if these types of things weren't relatively novel in freaking 2017, I would have been a lot more comfortable in my skin many years ago.

As I am still not comfortable in my skin, because even after losing 100 plus pounds, I don't recognize my body.

When I am told that I look good, all I can think is "not if you saw me naked"

Or not if you saw me when I don't dress to camouflage the loose skin that alternately causes me pride and revile.

I'm proud of the fact that my skin hangs loosely, but also daydream of a day where health insurance would cover a complete body lift for me

I hate being told that I'm to be commended for my healthy lifestyle, because eating to avoid random bouts of vomiting isn't healthy. It's survival.

Or being told I must feel so much better.

I do and I don't. It's that simple.

The other day, a library customer told me it look like I had lost weight as I was leading a program. I hesitated.

I finally said that yes, I have.

Another customer in the program snappishly asked me why I was reluctant to say yes.

I blurted out that I didn't know what weight loss she was referring to, because of the simple fact that I have lost so much weight since March 2015.

And in the past few months, I've had people commenting that I'm getting even smaller, which confuses me, because I'm not seeing any change.

And of course, after narrowing down what time period we were discussing, they wanted to know my weight loss secrets.

Nothing like seeing the shocked looks on their faces as I said "my secret is I had a gastric sleeve done"

It's just so amazing to me that people seemed so surprised when I say it out loud.

And I wonder if choosing to be open about it isn't the best move, but I know that being transparent about my journey is the only way I can sleep at night.

I fight the urge to allow myself to be shamed for my decision daily

And understand that just because I am at peace with my decision and with sharing about it that it doesn't mean everyone else feels the same way

And it doesn't mean that I am comfortable with a co-worker complimenting me on how prominent my collarbones are now

Maybe I shouldn't be amazed that my weight loss/appearance gets commented on

Occasionally, I invite the commentary, such as when I decided to post a a side by side comparison on Facebook, when I looked at a picture of me and finally saw a difference

So I put up the photo, me the morning I had my surgery and me 22 months later

And was amazed by the person who commented "great start!"

And was amazed that I didn't jump into my car to drive to his house to punch him in the gonads

Because I will never stop being amazed at the people who ask me how much more I want to lose

Or the people who tell me I look gaunt

Either I still have weight to lose or I'm too thin

All I know is that I'm still working on forgiving myself for the harm I caused my body through my addiction

And I know I should view my changing body as proof of the work I've done towards that forgiveness, but it's so damn hard

Maybe I'm amazed that even on my bad days, I do love myself now.

And one day, I hope to be amazed that a day has gone by without any commentary on the size/shape/appearance of my body