Some of it has to do with the way things have gone over the past 11 months and 28 days. Some of it is just my old pal Shame being its evil self. Some of it has to do with the way I have been treated by others. Whatever the reasons are, my brain is churning nonstop.
I have transformed so much since March 2, 2015. I see pictures popping in my Facebook feed, thanks to TimeHop and can't believe how different I look. I notice my smile isn't as forced. My eyes are brighter. I look more comfortable in my own skin. I have gained so much as I shed weight.
Yes, I feel better. That's one of the questions I get asked by people who have not seen me in a while and they comment on my weight loss. "Do you feel better?" My health is much better than it was a year ago. No more meal time insulin. Less pills. Fewer doctor visits. Last night was the first night in months that I woke up in a cold sweat due to low blood sugar.
I have a peace I didn't have before. I put myself first 98% of the time. I have learned I can help others better if I take care of myself.
Taking care of myself has meant saying good-bye to a lot of vices. It has meant learning that "No" is a complete sentence. It has meant embracing the do not disturb feature on my phone. It has meant no longer being comfortable surrounding myself with people who prey on my insecurities. It means that I make choices that make me nervous. It means that I shake up my routine. It means that I'm living my life the way I want to be living it. The way God wants me to be living it.
I'm hopeful that one day in the near future, my appearance won't be so much of a topic of conversation when I run into folks. I want a business card made up I can just hand to people that reads " Yes, I used to be a lot bigger. I had weight loss surgery. I still work hard to work my ass off."
I'm receiving a lot of attention from random men lately. They run from teenage hoodlums to geriatric gentlemen who carry oxygen tanks. None of this attention makes me feel flattered.
I've already made my feelings clear on the "curvy" Barbie. Unsurprisingly, I'm similarly irritated by all the hoopla surrounding the announcement that Ashley Graham is the cover model for the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue.
The positive to this: dialogue is being created.
The negative to this: it is headline news.
I heard someone comment that it was nice that they put a real woman on the cover.
Rather than me try to eloquently put why this burns me up, here's a quote I like:
“Curvy women are real women. Skinny women are real women. Women who have had boob jobs or lip enhancements or liposuction are still real women. Size 0 may make no sense mathematically, but a woman who wears that size is as real as the one who wears a size 16. What makes us “real” people is not the shape of our flesh but our basic humanity. And we lose our humanity when we judge – not when we lose weight, gain weight, or make the intensely personal decision to undergo cosmetic surgery.” -Hugo Schwyzer
Here's an odd progression picture of me--short hair Darcey is from four years ago, middle picture is me from August 2014, picture on the right is me from earlier in February.
I have run the gauntlet of sizes and shapes in my thirty-seven years. In all my physical variations, I was never not a real woman. I was never undeserving of love or genuine friendship.
It would be very easy for me to harden my heart against so many people.
The people who made fun of me for my size. The people who made fun of me for what they saw as my lack of attractiveness. The people who rejected me because I didn't fit the mold of what they wanted. The people who passed over me because they simply saw something in me that they didn't like.
Carrying so much anger, so much resentment....that's not healthy for me.
It's easy to let it go when I turn the mirror on myself and realize that I too am guilty of all of those things. I have cast the first stone in my life.
I am not perfect, but Jesus loves me. He thinks I'm to die for.
And I realize that what I had to forgive was what those people made me think about myself. I had to tell the little girl inside of me that she is worthy. I had to tell the woman in me who is drawn to unhealthy relationships with men that she deserves better. I have to tell myself that I am okay that way I am.
Earlier this month, I was talking to a woman I have met through the ministry I volunteer for. We were discussing working out. She said to me "I need to get skinny so I'll be beautiful."
My heart broke. I hugged her and told her that she was beautiful the way she is, because to me, she is gorgeous.
And I wish someone had done that for me all the times I beat myself up. I wish so many things. I just wish someone had told me I was fine the way I was.
For losing weight does not make one beautiful. It can actually make people ugly.
I've known people who lose weight and become shadows of the people they once were. They lost what made them likable. They became shallow.
Losing weight is not a magic cure all.
And people look at me, they see the pictures that show the transformation and assume my smile is more genuine now because I've lost so much weight. They assume I'm more at peace because of my physical transformation.
And that's not the case.
My physical transformation has been made possible because of the work I have done to transform my bad habits. My horrible coping skills. I found the voice of God again. I allowed myself to hear him.
It worries me when I hear people talking about how they want to lose weight.
You can cut calories all you want. You can go to the gym all you want.
However unless you address what it is that causes you to eat, you'll be back in the same boat you were before.
As I said, I've been a variety of shapes and sizes all my life. I've lost lots of weight. I own size 8 jeans that I could once wear. I also own a pair of XXL yoga pants that used to be too snug.
This time, I know it's different. Not just because my stomach only holds 4 ounces of food at a time.
And that's because I have invested a lot of time into fixing my brain and heart.
My relationship with myself, my relationship with God...that is what brings me so much peace. That is what makes me smile so readily these days. Not the fact that I am wearing size ten jeans and a size medium shirt.
And when I am asked if I would do it all again, my only hesitation is this simple fact. I put my life on hold during the time I spent waiting for surgery. From the day I first saw a bariatric surgeon to March 1, 2015, all I could focus on was winning the prize. Grabbing the golden ring that my surgery was in my mind.
I wish I had started going to church as I waited. I wish I had been more open about my surgery with more people. I wish I had opened my heart more. Instead, I just sat, waiting, for my life to begin post surgery.
But I realize that was God's plan for me.
For today, I spent my morning worshiping at the best church in North Carolina. I volunteered in the toddler room for the first time and loved on those little dumplings. My heart melted when one little girl plopped herself on my lap, as she wanted all my attention to herself. Another little girl gave me her prized red heart sticker, which I still have on my shirt. I listened to my pastor and felt his message resonate with me.
This morning wouldn't have happened a year ago, as I wasn't ready for it. I needed to be able to clean out my ears and hear Him again.
Surviving surgery with little complications helped. No longer being numb with food helped. Having the strength to get out of bed daily and fight through the days that my withdrawal from my drug was the worst helped.
Sitting here today, looking forward to all of the surprises that the next week will hold for me, the moments in which God will show himself to me, the moments in which I am reminded of His love, knowing that I write because He wants me to be telling my story, knowing that I am loved beyond my wildest dreams...I am the woman I am today because of Him. Not because a year ago, I underwent an operation.
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