Weighty Matters

I’m never sure what topics and posts will really interest other people, but Dating Game drew a higher than average number of views.  Thanks to all for stopping by and for the sharing in comments.  I write this for me first, and as you’ve noticed, the subjects run the gamut.  There isn’t much that I won’t talk about which doesn’t mean I have no filter, rather that I feel comfortable in this space.  Thanks to all of you for increasing and maintaining the comfort zone.

If I were going to do a subtitle for this post, it would be, “Hello, feet.  Nice to see you again.”  As I lose more weight, I’m getting re-acquainted with parts of my body that have been concealed for many, many years; buried, actually, beneath all of the fat and swelling.

After decades of not looking at myself in the mirror any longer than absolutely necessary, it’s kind of fun looking at the changes in my body and watching parts of me reemerge.   Look, there’s my jaw line.   Hello, collar bones.  It’s been awhile.  I don’t know what the bones in my wrist are called, but look!  Without the pudge I can see that they give definition and some grace.

It used to be that by the middle of the day, it looked and felt like there were water balloons wrapped around my ankles beneath the skin.  They still get a little puffy, but no where nearly as much as before.  Last night I enjoyed a nice soak in the bathtub, and I could actually lean forward and massage my own feet and explore my ankle bones.   Yes, when standing I can touch my toes.   It’s also a lot easier to scrub or scratch my own back.

Ahh, the simple pleasures that thinner people might take for granted.

Please don’t think that I spend a lot of time freakishly obsessed with touching myself.   These discoveries come about mostly through observation, but I think they’re important to note.  I’m learning to see what’s real about my body at every stage of the game.  Remember back earlier in my progress when I couldn’t truly see the weight loss because of my “fat eyes” syndrome?  I need to recognize and celebrate the positive changes.  It’s healthy to have a clear picture of my body.

My body and I have been estranged for so long, it’s about time we got re-acquainted.

When I’m all dressed up at the party tonight, I will try to remember to ask a friend to take a photo so I can share it on the blog.   In the meantime, I’m significantly dressed down at the moment.   I had to go into work for a few hours today and was outside the whole time.  When I first went in I went down to play with dolphins which means I also got what we affectionately refer to as “dock butt” — salt water-dampened shorts and legs.  We don’t care because, hey, played with dolphins!

I got home feeling sweaty and salty, took off what I was wearing to fill up the rest of a load of laundry, and then thought about what else I’m doing this afternoon before I get ready for the party.   I have some reading for class which I can do while sitting out on the porch.   I need to water the plants outside.  I need to do at least 30 minutes of some sort of cardio exercise either in the house or in the pool.  Weighing all of these things, I opted to pull on a bathing suit.

Yep, I’m walking around the house (Ok, currently I’m sitting in the house.) in a bathing suit.  Once I finish this post and check the class blackboard, I’m going outside – also in the bathing suit.  It isn’t one of the ones I own with the cute skirt feature to cover my jiggly upper thighs and I haven’t pulled on a rash guard or sun protection shirt to cover my fat upper arms.  (There are hard biceps under that flab, but the underhang is still pretty obvious.)

Oddly, while I am nobody’s candidate for Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition, I’m surprisingly unselfconscious about going outside where I can be seen by someone other than my dogs.   I don’t care if someone on a moored or passing boat sees me.  So what if the guy fishing on the point gets a look?  If the sight of an overweight woman relaxing at her own house bugs them, they can just turn and look in another damn direction.

This sort of reminds me of a funny scene in Susan Elizabeth Phillips’s book Nobody’s Baby But Mine.  In it, a very pregnant woman has refused to let her husband see her body.  They make love with the lights off and she maintains her privacy  at all other times when she’s naked.  He’s a pro football player, always pursued by women with perfectly shaped and toned bodies and she’s been sure that he’ll be repulsed by her pregnant, womanly curves.  Finally, she musters up the courage, strips down while he’s away from home, and even rubs scented lotion all over herself in preparation for his return.

When she hears him arrive downstairs, she leaves her robe at the top of the stairs and slowly descends, taking courage from the admiration and surprised on his face.  Then she realizes that his brother, the town pastor is behind him, watching her too.   It’s a comic scene worthy of I Love Lucy, except that back then married couples weren’t even allowed to look as if they slept together.  Their room had twin beds.  God only knows how they conceived Little Ricky that way.

But I digress.  I’m really trying to learn how to accept my shape at each stage of my progress.  Instead of always seeing only the remaining fat, rolls, or batwing underarms, I want to take note of the improvements.   Hard biceps.  Increased definition in my calves.  A waist that actually has some indentation.  The fact that I can see my jawline and collar bones and when I lie down I can feel my hip bones.  My wrists have shape and last night I wore my pinky ring on my ring finger instead.

I feel stronger, more flexible, more capable.   Breath flows easily in and out of my lungs and my heart doesn’t pound from the simple movement of an easy walk.

We who have been overweight much of our lives are hypercritical of our bodies.  We begin to hate them and, sadly, any degree of self-loathing is too much.  It damages our spirit.

My goal today is to accentuate and concentrate on the positive.

Dressed up or suited down, when I look in the mirror I’m going to appreciate what I see.

This is a pretty full weekend.   At work, we’re hosting a regional workshop for an organization important to our industry.  Last night was an icebreaker party.  Today we had a full day of demonstrations, presentations, talks, etc. and a dinner.  Tomorrow night I’m invited to a nice birthday party.   Three social activities = three opportunities to show off some of the clothes I bought a few weeks ago.   Remember that I work for a marine mammal facility.  Many of my co-workers spend their days in bathing suits.  Those of us who aren’t on the docks are usually in shorts, sandals and T-shirts or tank tops.

Even though my weight loss is noticeable when I’m dressed in T-shirt and shorts, it’s even more obvious when I wear “dressier” clothes.   Last night, I put on a pair of cropped pants in yet another size smaller and topped it with a fun top that has rows of narrow ruffles in bright turquoise with a hint of sparkle.  I loved the look in the mirror and, have to admit, really enjoyed the compliments from my friends and co-workers when I arrived at the function.  About an hour into the party, one woman I hadn’t seen earlier in the night, came up, hugged me and said, “Mary, has anyone told you tonight how fabulous you look?  What you’re doing isn’t easy, but wow, is it working.”

A positive comment like elevates my spirit sky high.

Tonight I put on a  more tailored, button down blouse in a deep teal that I bought last month.  The material is a little stretchy, and the top is a bit fitted, coming in at the waist.   Previously, I would never have chosen a garment like this.  The last thing I wanted in clothes was anything that might cling and accentuate my truck tire midsection.    Even I could look in the mirror at myself and know that this outfit truly flattered my improving figure.

My friends’ reactions were amazing.  They see me every day, but I’ve probably never worn anything this tailored in front of them before.  If they saw me in a button-down top, it was an oversized “big shirt” and definitely not fitted to the waist.   It was a revelation for them and for me!

I was in line with a different group of co-workers when it was time to go to the buffet.   The aromas of the different dishes filled the air and made us all hungrier.  I said to a colleagues and his girlfriend that it was a good thing that the line was moving slowly, because I needed time to decide between the chicken marsala and the eggplant in pasta.  The girlfriend, who doesn’t know that I’ve had weight loss surgery, said, “Take both!”  I just smiled and said that it would be too much for me to handle.

When I reached the chafing dishes, I took a dab of rice, a portion of chicken equivalent to half of a half breast, and a couple of forkfuls of salad.  I felt good that I didn’t let my eyes get bigger than my stomach, but took the amounts of each dish that I felt I could physically eat.   I got back to my table and one of my other friends looked at my plate and said with warm admiration, “You are being so good with your portion control.”

That comment proved to be positively reinforcing — surprisingly so.  Those who have read this blog from the beginning might remember long ago posts when I talked about how I always felt like people judged what I put on my plate, monitored my eating and, even if they kept their thoughts to myself, nonetheless disapproved of my choices.  I hated it when people commented about my food.  When I started to eat solid foods again a month after surgery, I didn’t mind explaining to people what I could or couldn’t eat, or how much, I was still uncomfortable with people visually assessing my portions.  So, being able to hear the comment and take it in the admiring spirit with which it was intended told me something about my emotional progress.

I’m really looking forward to tomorrow night’s birthday party.  I know it will be lovely and fun with many friends attending.  Best of all, I have a dress that I love all picked out.  It’s purple and turquoise — two of my favorite colors to wear — and a festive style.    I know that when I put it on, I’m going to feel happy, confident, and in a party mood.

It used to be that my goal was just to look presentable — make the most out of a bad situation, i.e. my overweight body with its bulges and rolls.  Even though I’m far from goal, the weight loss and toning have already given me a greatly improved body.  I’m not ashamed of it anymore.  I enjoy the positive changes and love dressing up to make the most of the improvements.

It’s just another way to feel good about all of the positive changes.