I realized something this week. Something that has completely changed what happens when I look in the mirror. The truth is it’s sort of two-fold. Last year I recognized something about my life that I’d never seen or been able to articulate before.
I have never, as long as I can remember-- felt full. I’m not talking about emotional fullness, I’m talking physical, food-related fullness. I’ve felt hungry. And I’ve felt stuffed. But that line between the two-- the trigger that most people feel when they’re eating that makes them STOP before they get to the “stuffed” part of the equation-- I don’t have that. Part of the revelation happened because I actually did for one fleeting meal have the sensation and it made me realize something had been missing for 28 years. And part of the revelation happened because I stepped back to evaluate the cause of my continuing weight battles.
Once I became aware of what I’d been missing I started to focus on it, to try and find ways to trick my body into feeling it. I started eating more slowly-- much more slowly, and had a modicum of success with that. But eventually, even then I still lost that trigger. I still ended up not feeling full until I was too full. And I’ll be honest-- I gave up.
In my lifetime I’ve done a few things to try and lose weight. I’ve even tried it the right way: diet and exercise. But in the end I ended up failing on several fronts... #1 I would just get so frustrated I’d give up, #2 I’d lose 20, 30 pounds maximum and then not lose another pound no matter how much longer I kept it up, #3 when I reached my heaviest point-- it became so painful and so difficult to exercise that I just--- couldn’t.
And that’s partly where this week’s realization comes in too. Because the thing I realized is that I am not a fat girl anymore. Not inside anyway.
I have always felt fat, even before I was. I grew up depressed, anxious, terrified of the world around me, and living primarily to make my mom’s dreams for me take flight. By the time I hit 15, and my weight crossed the line from “chunky” to “fat” it was actually fine. It fit. It fit how I’d always felt anyway, but it also fit who I was inside. I’d spent years wanting to be invisible, and suddenly my body made that happen. It was almost a blessing because it was probably the first (and only) time I’d felt like my outside matched my inside. I didn’t want to be noticed, and I was unnoticeable!
But in the 6 years since my mom died, things have changed-- I’ve changed. The fat girl I was was dispassionate, weak, quiet, unknown and unknowable. It wasn’t even that other people didn’t know who I was, I didn’t even know. In the last 6 years though I’ve become loud, opinionated, passionate, ambitious, even adventurous.
And the person that I am today is not a fat girl. But my body still is, and despite the efforts I’ve made in the past I also recognize that I can’t change that by myself. It’s something I may never be able to change enough if I can’t even figure out when I’m full.
In the last week I’ve been brutally aware of just how much my weight is in my way now. It didn’t used to be. Not because I’m bigger than I was before... but because the person I am inside wants... no NEEDS... more from my life than my body can provide.
And it’s not about being beautiful. It’s not about wanting to be a size 2. I think those of you that know me well know that how I look is really not that important to me. Never has been. It’s not even about being healthy, although of course that’s a concern. What this is about is the fact that I can’t be who I am, because my body is in the way. From inane things like being embarrassingly out of breath walking up stairs, to my actual stomach being in the way of being able to get a perfect shot, my body is not working for me anymore. I want more. I need more!
A friend invited me to walk with her around the lake on Saturdays. And I enthusiastically said I’d love to! I had visions of saturday walks around the lake with camera in tow, getting to know a relatively new friend better while doing something I really needed to do for my own health. I prepped my camera, I bought walking shoes, a nike fit to keep track of my steps. And after one outing I was so embarrassed, and so slow, and in so much pain that I’ve not gone back since. I find myself saying no to things because I’m physically unable to participate because of either my size, or the pain that the activity would inevitably cause.
My hips and knees are in their worst shape ever, and the limit that puts on my ability to move and exercise the way I otherwise would LOVE to is sad and counterproductive. I’m frustrated by my limitations and I’m frustrated by the knowledge that there’s only so much I can accomplish about it on my own. Frustrated that in all honesty, unless I can find that “full” trigger... there will only ever be so far I can take this journey to make my outside match my shiny new inside.
I entered a contest this week. New Hope Center is offering a free lap-band surgery. I answered their questions, wrote my little mini essay to convince them that I’m the one who deserves this, who needs this more than the others who entered. And I’m sure that everyone else who enters will want and need this just as much as I do. All I can do is hope that they can see what this would mean to me.
I read through their site extensively, and I’ve done some research on these procedures before anyway. One of the things that jumped out at me over and over again about the procedure was the phrase that surgical patients who received the lap band surgery felt “full sooner, and stayed full longer.”
Full.
Because really when you boil it down... that’s what I really want. I want my body and my spirit to match so that my life can be just that:
Full.
So cross your fingers. Send a prayer my way. I’m still going to try and make steps on my own. I did the hard work on the inside, to become a person that I not only like, but am proud of! And that is 100x harder than making some changes to my eating habits. But whether I win it, or save up for it... I’m going to need more than just willpower and some lifestyle changes to make this outside into something that matches ME.
I want to look in the mirror and see myself again, instead of me staring out of a shell of fat-- waiting for everything to line up again.
