Same Girl...Different Girl

I remember this one time back in high school, there was this guy I had a major crush on. I would of loved to have been his girlfriend. Hell, I would of loved if he would of even knew I was alive. He was the type of guy, though, who would say something like "just lose 50 pounds and I'll go out with you." As if it was that easy - to just drop 50 pounds. And PUH-LEEZ! As if I'd still want you if I lost 50 pounds.  

Anyhow, this memory got me to thinking about weight loss. Would I really be the same person, if I lost a lot of weight? I used to think so. I mean, I have an ok personality. I'm very stubborn, very tactless (I tell it like it is, and people get their panties in a twist, but I'm VERY honest). I'm funny and sarcastic. And I'm very VERY loyal to those I care about. So surely, if I lost weight, I'd be the same, right? I've had to take a long hard look at this, to find the real answer. And the answer is, no.

I am no where NEAR the same person I was before my surgery last year. Back then, I stayed home all the time. I didn't want to see people and I didn't want to be seen; I was too ashamed of my weight. I didn't want to go out to eat with my husband, so instead we'd hit the drive-thru so I could eat on the couch at home. I wasn't physically able to go places with him, because all my weight just - well - weighed me down. It hurt to walk around. And I was always out of breath. And! Ugh. I always got hot so fast because I was lugging around so much extra weight - all fat. I was miserable. I was so self-conscious of anyone looking at me, or talking about me. I just wanted to be liked so desperately. But the sad truth is that I was miserable - all of the time. I was just very very skilled at faking it, and faking a false confidence I assure you, I did not have. I didn't care about myself, or what I put into my mouth. I didn't look at calories, fat, or carbs. Hell, I didn't even know protein would be the most important thing I needed to eat. I thrived on a diet of pop, alcohol, donuts, fried foods, pizza and candy. I didn't care about the gym, fitness or getting in shape and I damn sure didn't care about nutrition.

Am I that same girl now? Oh hell no. I've become someone new. I've shed all these layers (literally), and am just someone new. I CARE about nutrition. A lot. I'm religious about logging everything that goes into my mouth. I count calories, but also monitor my protein, carbs, fat and sugar. I make sure to try as hard as I can to meet my protein goals for the day. I try to eat clean whenever possible. I don't eat a lot of processed foods and never, EVER eat fast food. My biggest sin is my near-daily Starbucks habit.

And, I care about fitness. A lot. I went from someone who would trudge to the gym once a week and half-ass a workout, to someone who works out every single day - sometimes twice a day. I love to move my body. I love to sweat. I love to feel the burn as I lift weights. I love lifting to failure. I love squats and lunges and box jumps and running. I love monitoring my progress. I love that a month ago, jogging for 10 seconds was something that took effort and yesterday I ran for 90 seconds and was ok. I love that I am improving. I love that I am hopefully building muscle, losing fat, and sculpting what will ultimately be the temple I reside in for the rest of my days.

No. I am not that same girl. I am not that same shy girl who hated when people looked at her. I'm not that same girl who hated fitness and nutrition and hated herself. I have so totally changed, inside and out, and I truly hope that comes across to people.

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Out...and things that bother me

This is me. On the left is me shortly after my surgery...I don't know the exact date. God, look at how unhappy I looked! My face - it just disgusts me. Look at that stomach. Why oh why did I let myself go like that? Why couldn't I love myself enough to not get like that? I can't go back, so these questions are pointless. All I can do now is love myself and respect myself enough to never, EVER go back.  The right is me a few days ago. Again, fitting into something new, something smaller. That feeling NEVER gets old. Not ever. Every single time I put on a smaller size my heart is flooded with pride, and I have a hard time containing that pride. I am proud of myself. I'm proud for having the courage to change my life. I'm proud of my success. And for once in my life, I'm not ashamed to have a photo of myself put on Facebook for all to see. But...

Then the comments come rolling in. Things like "you look amazing - so skinny!", or "You are such an inspiration..."  And this is where I have a problem.

This won't make sense to many people (if any at all), but I'll try to explain it the best I can. As an obese woman, I would look at people who lost weight, at their before and after pictures and become SO overwhelmingly inspired. I would dream of the day when I could look like that - good enough to have a before an after. People who cut out junk food, started to exercise and got turned on to a healthy lifestyle - those are the people who inspired me, whose stories gave me courage to write my own weight loss transformation story. That to me was inspiration. Flip the table. People tell me that I'm inspirational and I'm like - but why? All I've done is had 85% of my stomach removed, stopped eating junk food and started to move my fat ass. Why or how is this an inspiration? Which brings me to my next issue - being "out" about my surgery. I am not "out". I can probably count on two hands how many people know I had surgery (not counting other WLS people I'm friends with). I've never been comfortable discussing it, and I'm not about to shout out to the world "HEY WORLD! I HAD WEIGHT LOSS SURGERY!" Mostly, because, I'm ashamed. Ashamed I was so morbidly obese that my only option was to remove a majority of a major body organ just so I could stop myself from fucking eating. I'm sorry, that's not inspirational, or courageous or bold, that's disgusting. I feel like such a fraud when people tell me I look good, or that I'm doing so well, or even ask me for eating/fitness advise. 

And being told I'm skinny? That just irks me. I wish I was skinny. I wish at this weight I still wasn't considered obese, but I am. Being called skinny is an insult. It's insulting. Isn't that silly? Many don't "get" it. I guess compared to what I used to weigh/look like, I am skinny, but I'm not anywhere near where I want/need to be.

I always tell anyone who asks about my diet the truth - which is - I eat a high protein diet. Protein first, always. I eat lean chicken, beef, pork and fish. Secondary to protein is fresh fruits and veggies. Very rarely, whole grains. Never bread, pasta or rice. Very rarely sweets. These things are not lies. These are truths. The only information omitted is that I only consume 800-1000 calories a day because that's all my stomach can hold. When people ask me about my fitness routine, again, I tell the truth. I swim laps 3 days a week. I walk/run 7 days a week. I hit the gym as often as I can. All true. 

But I am nothing but a fraud! I may give people false hope...that if you eat like I do, and exercise like I do, you too can lose 167 pounds in just over a year. But I'm too ashamed and too embarrassed to tell the world my truth. I've come out to a few different friends, and they've all been SO supportive of me, so I don't know what it is exactly that I am afraid of. If people don't like me, or don't support me, I honestly do not care. This is my life and my health we're talking about here. But still... The truth haunts me, and nags at me. It's a huge, heavy burden I carry around with me. It weighs on my shoulders like a two-ton block. It feels so heavy and I know, I know if I let it all go, I will feel such relief. But I'm still just too scared.


Man oh man, life got away from me. I've been so busy here lately. We moved. Yeoow! Where we lived before was in a semi-decent duplex, however the area was kind of sketchy. There were drug dealers who lived across the street, meth-makers who lived next door, a hoochie mama down the street, a lady next door with 700 foster kids, and other various trash. It was quite the experience. We had stayed there nearly 5 years, always paying rent on time, keeping our lawn looking decent, etc., but they decided to raise our rent. The complex was overrun by government assisted apartment dwellers who would move out in the middle of the night and it was just nasty. I am SO happy to be gone from there. Where we are now is utopia baby!

Now? I can walk through my neighborhood without crossing a major street that was very traffic heavy. My son has a yard to run around and play in. And I've got all kinds of side streets and places to walk, bike and explore. Also? I'm literally 1 minute away from the aquatic center, making it even more convenient to go swim. I'm so so so happy!!

I have 5 pounds to lose to hit a MAJOR milestone; a weight I haven't been in  - I don't even know. I cannot even recall a time when I saw this particular number on my scale, so I'm super excited. Moving, packing and not eating as well as I should have (meaning not enough calories), really did a number on my body, because I dropped 5 pounds last week. I'm SO close to this milestone that I can taste it! I cannot wait to get there!

What else...oh yea! Signed up for another 5K. Originally, we were going to do the Color Run in August, but then signed up for the Biggest Loser 5K which is 2 weeks after it. So, we did Color Me Rad back in June. However, it was so much fun we decided to go ahead and do this one as well. I am so excited! I'm still not up to par with jogging; I get winded SO fast, but I'm going to keep on pressing forward!

Also, we joined a new gym, and are having a hell of a time cancelling our old gym contract. We've called the gym, and they say "come in to cancel." We go to the gym and they say "oh sorry, no one is here, come back", which is bullshit, because I could see into the director's office and could see her sitting there. Best Fitness - definitely not the best. Also? I haven't been to the gym in over a month now. I've tried calling, texting and emailing my personal trainer, multiple times. I've begged and pleaded for them to perform the duties of their contract - 5 thirty-minute training sessions per week. I've told my trainer I can come in any day, any time. He'll respond with texts at 8:30am like this "I can see you today in an hour"....and then when I say that it doesn't work for me, he'll ignore me for a week. It's now been three weeks since I've heard from him. Nice.

So that's life in a nutshell right now! Busy busy busy!!


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