the lengths we will go to

"I've ruined my body" I blurted out.

My friend looked at me in confusion. "You did what was best for your health," he stammered, trying to stop me from shaming myself further.

I looked down and saw the rolls on my abdomen of loose flesh from my weight loss. I rubbed them, as one would rub their pregnant belly. I looked my friend in the eye and said "I did, but I still ruined it" and then changed the topic of conversation.

Earlier in the week, I had a conversation with two of my co-workers, about how I just wanted to find a pair of pants that fit me properly. One said to me "but you always wear dresses to work"

I explained that I wear dresses/skirts because with the help of foundation undergarments, I can hold in my sagging skin and look halfway decent. Yet, I want to wear pants so I can have days of being comfortable at work.

Which led to more talk of where I could go buy girdles I can wear under pants.

Getting dressed these days is all about creating an air of illusion.

The only things I put on my body that doesn't mask or correct a flaw are socks.

Just last night, I was playing with the loose skin on my stomach, trying to smooth it out, imagining a magic wand I could wave over parts of myself to subtract the excess, much like correcting a picture in Photoshop.

I fight myself everyday in my battle to love all of me.

On a good day, I love about 95% of myself.

On a bad day, I'm lucky if I find one thing about myself appealing.

Today, I keep staring at the loose skin on my upper arms, remembering how my ex-boyfriend used to squeeze them and tell me I had work to do.

I remember someone telling me once that it was a shame that my arms were so fat that I couldn't wear tank tops.

I hate hot weather because I can't hide my upper arms under long sleeves. I dread seeing the thermometer go above 85.

I would say today is a mediocre day. I like about 65% of myself today.

I've had to stop reading any articles on weight loss these days.

I also have had to stop visiting a weight loss surgery forum I used to frequent.

Only because I beat myself up for being a failure when it comes to weight loss surgery. Because it has been over 14 months since Roosevelt became part of my life and I still have yet to lose 100 pounds.

I get jealous over people who had their surgery after me and have already lost over 100 pounds. The competitive side of me comes out and she is ugly.

The point of all of this is I wonder when I will wake up and be fully content for one day.

I have gone to great lengths to improve my life.

I can say with full confidence that I do not want to go back a year in time and be the girl I was last May.

She wasn't all bad, but she was a girl trapped in the body of a woman.

And I still have that girl inside of me, but she's content to sleep most of the time now.

I have replaced voids in my life that I thought would never be full.

Yet, then there are the days when someone says to me "You're a fat girl, so you get it"

Or "you're a big girl, so what would you do?"

14 months of working on every inch of myself, to the point where I don't recognize my own reflection in the mirror at times, over 90 pounds gone and I still get told I'm a big girl. I still get told that I am who I was before this whole process started.

I went to extreme lengths to physically transform myself because I was at a point where I was at a dead end. I had no other choices but to either accept my obese body which was killing me or undergo surgery to get myself healthy.

I chose to fight. I chose surgery.

Yet, as I look my poor body, unclothed, I wonder what I have done to what the Lord created.

Who am I to mess what with He made?

And as crazy as it sounds, I do wonder if certain things had not happened in my life, would I punish myself as much as I do? Would I be so hard on myself if parts of my life had gone differently?

The what ifs are just as maddening as trying to find a pair of pants that fit me properly.

And I remind myself that my surgery happened because the Lord made it possible. That my reinvention of myself is His creation as well.

And I try to silence the voices in my head. I try to fight shame. I try to not let my anger boil up when someone tells me that I don't know how hard it is to be fat. I try to not beat myself up when I'm asked if I still have more weight to lose. I try so hard to just be content.

It's an ongoing process.

Today, I am struggling.

Tomorrow, I might struggle again. I might struggle all summer long, the season of scantily clad people, as it is inevitable that I will compare myself to those around me. I will mentally catalog my flaws. I will do my best to hide my imperfections under a veil of clothes.

Or I might not. I might just decide to be comfortable and wear whatever.

I sometimes think of how I once saw a belly dancer teaching a class at one of the many gyms I've belonged to over the years. She was curvy. And she danced with glee. She was unafraid to show off her body as she taught the other women how to dance.

And I want to be that woman. I want to be that confident.

I want to love myself 100% of the time, not just when my depression and anxiety take a vacation.

I want so much.

I feel greedy, as perhaps I just need to learn to be content with where I am. Perhaps the weight I am is how I will ever get. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

I just don't know.

All I know is that I need to keep my trust in Him.