We live our lives waiting to LIVE our lives. It really makes no sense. I’ve been trying to keep this blog focused on my full body lift, but I am a person behind this skin. Take a minute to know me:
My name is Melinda and I have lost 175 pounds. Is that number always consistent? No! My weight fluctuates daily, by the minute, by the hour. We take so much time every morning to strip down, relieve ourselves in the toilet, stand infront of the mirror and weigh ourselves. The number goes down.. and we get happy. A glass of water (just 16 ounces!) and a pound is back on us. But we don’t dare ourselves. We are ever changing creatures.
I’m learning over time that my weight, that number on the scale, is not the true meaning of my existance. Even though I can honestly say I have developed a small EDNOS throughout this journey, I’m slowly (and I mean slowly) stepping into this realization. I’ve been trapped inside a cage, where I have to maintain thin.
Being inspirational isn’t always a good thing. It’s like becoming a mini movie star and no matter if you gain a pound or lose one, everyone notices. And you feel like a picture of your butt is being splashed across People Magazine throughout every checkout line in America. I know that I’m not THAT important, but either way it feels like all eyes are on me.
People have watched me shrink for months, years to be exact. And I feel like they’re also watching me hold steady. With each bite I feel judged.
Change is amazing. I’m moving in with my very loving supportive boyfriend (who I might add accepts my slabs of skin I want removed and still finds me sexy). This new complex nobody knows me. I have just switched jobs, where nobody knows my past history. It’s almost like starting over completely. But at the same time, I almost feel like a hidden secret.
A lot of thoughts play in my mind every day as I mentioned above: “What are they going to think if I eat that?” “If I get fat again, will people lose hope for themselves?” “If I get fat again, will people laugh at me and talk about me behind my back?” “Can people see the 5 pounds I gained after my binge?” “Do people see my skin overlap my jeans when I sit down?” It’s a constant thought. Over and over I think the world is judging me. But who has the right? Who should affect my emotions and feelings? People that are ‘just people’ or my friends and family? I think my friends, if they are really my friends, shouldn’t judge. But would I judge my friends if they were in the same situation? It’s all a giant mess. A spider web I create in my OWN head. When I take a step back, I realize that nobody really cares. Just that thought, the single thought that nobody CARES if I gain 10, heck 20 pounds. Nobody cares as long as I am happy with me and healthy.
But what is the price of being thin? Would I trade in gaining 30 pounds for a clear mind, and a peaceful relationship with food? I sure the hell would. Would I trade in THIS body for someone 50 pounds more than me with a firm stomach and strong legs? Heck yea.
I’m not sure what I’m really getting at. I guess this is one of those half steps I’m talking about. Not quite able to let go of being thin, not quite ready to let go of the fact that perfection can never be achieved.
I will get my surgery, but I understand it will never make me perfect. It will never make it where I can wear a bikini in Brazil, or comfortable stripping down to a sports bra and mini shorts for a jog. But it will help me feel just that much more whole. My day is coming soon. This next month, I’ll get to start saving a little more. And I hope to achieve a sponsor that is touched by my story in some way.
This is weightloss, maintaining, and plastic surgery RAW. I won’t hold back. I’ll tell you all how it is.