The closer that I got, the further I could see

Lately, I've been asked two questions frequently.

1. Are you married?

2. Do you have children?

I realize that for a lot of people, these questions are just ice breakers.

However, for me, at times these question serve as little daggers in my heart. At other times, they just annoy the heck out of me. Right now, if someone really wanted me to lose my temper, they'd hit me with my trifecta of evil: Do you have kids? Are you married? How much weight have you lost/how did you lose weight?

Or just comment on my lack of family. Or just comment on what they seem to think it the only admirable achievement I've accomplished in my life.

I find myself at an odd place in my life.

Yes, I am single. Happily so.

I am childless. Again, happily so.

Yes, I am losing weight. Not for vanity.

The fact that people comment so much on how good I look thanks to the weight loss is such a double edged sword. I did not not have weight loss surgery to look good in clothes. I did not have weight loss surgery with the goal of fitting into a size small. I did not have weight loss surgery to catch myself a man.

I had weight loss surgery to save my life. I had it in an attempt to get my diabetes and all of the glamorous side effects that goes along with it under control. So far, it is working, for the most part. Some of the nastier side effects of diabetes are still plaguing me. My FSA account is draining very quickly and it's only the beginning of the second month of the year.

So, as I've mentioned before, I feel as though I'm failing at this, because obviously I have full control over my body and how it's going to react to extreme weight loss. Not to mention the blasted plateau I've reached.

I meant to go to the gym yesterday. Instead, I vomited as I got home and ended up passing out in my recliner by 8:30. 11 months post surgery and I still am finding foods that I can't tolerate.

Some days, the only things I can get to stay down and taste good are coffee and diet sweet tea. Some days things get wild and I can also keep down refried beans. Thankfully, these bad days are few and far between, however, when they come back to back, ugh. It's so much fun to play Russian Roulette when eating.

So when someone says to me "You've lost so much weight you're going to disappear! I'm jealous!"...if only they knew how miserable this process has been. And for crying out loud, I'm not that small. And I'm not going to placate you by complimenting you in return. I don't play that game.

Again, it's a fine line with me. I either will happily accept the compliment or I will stare at you in silence, plotting how to kill you with my brain.

As far as my singleness, it does not bother me in the slightest that I am not in a relationship. I know I am not ready for one at this point in my recovery.

I also know that if I wanted to be in a relationship, I could find someone. But I don't just want a warm body.

I am focusing on my relationship with Jesus. I am focusing on my mental and physical health.

I have so much love in my life, thanks to my friends, chosen family and birth family, that I don't feel as though I'm lacking in the affection department.

I also know that trying to force myself into couple-dom just because it's expected of me will only lead to disaster.

And I have been in relationships. The last serious one I had did it's best to break me. I could write a novel on that relationship. I could write a series of novels on the relationships I've had with various men. None of them in the vein of Nicholas Sparks however.

And I'm working on processing the feelings and the shame that those relationships brought into my life.

Not just from the boys I dated.

I'll never forget how, after the last time I broke up with the man I had dated on and off for over five years, I had to go to the gynecologist for my annual exam.

Granted, the last time I had seen her, I had been referred to a maternal fetal medicine doctor to discuss the perils of me getting pregnant at an advanced maternal age (35) with diabetes.

So, one of the first things out of her mouth, after lecturing me on my weight gain, was to ask me how my relationship was going.

I told her that we were no longer together.

As I lay there on the exam table, draped in paper, she proceeded to tell me that I needed to win my ex back, as I was getting too old to mess around with getting married and pregnant successfully. And that my options were limited because of my size.

I never knew I was going to be receiving a hearty dose of shame along with my breast exam and pap smear.

Being single for the rest of my life does not scare me. Being shamed for the rest of my life scares me.

I'll stay single rather than date another man who tells me I'm not good enough for him.

And as far as having children goes, well, I love some kids. I tolerate the majority of them. I just don't want to give birth to any.

Being a wife and a mother is not necessarily in the cards for me. I am at peace with that knowledge.

There are so many things in the cards for me that there are no voids to be filled.

I am a Christ follower. I am a writer. I am a librarian. I am a knitter. I am a sister. I am a daughter. I am an aunt. I am so many things to so many different people.

I am content with my life.

The more I mature, the more comfortable I am. I am excited for my future. I am excited for this season of my life.

And if it makes others uncomfortable that I don't intend to follow the path that they expect for me , well, that's not my concern.