I don’t post many pictures, because well obviously I used to hate pictures of myself. I actually still do, except the rare ones you get that don’t make you look ridiculously fat and ugly (see left). I also hate it when people post pictures of themselves over and over again, whether it’s because of weight-loss or because they just need that new sexy myspace shot for their facebook default image. I keep one image on my facebook, because I like it and I see no reason to change it. It’s one of those onimous ones where people can’t judge me so much (Oh look how fat she’s gotten, oh look she’s going to be one of those people that constantly posts cute pictures of herself). No thanks. I have no intentions of becoming one of those people, and don’t expect to post a lot of pictures on facebook at all because no one needs to see me in every vogue pose available, nor am I that narcissistic (I have a cousin on my mothers side that does this almost daily). I’m going to share pictures with friends once in a while because I’m sorry, but I’m proud of my progress. And not in a vain “Look at me now” sort of way, but a “This is really working, I’m really going to be healthy again” sort of way. And there -is- a difference.
At the same time, I -have- to take regular pictures of myself now. I cannot see the progress in the mirror as much as I’d like, because I see myself every day. In order to see what changes have been made, I need to see the timeline. 99% of these pictures no one else will ever see but me. The boyfriend is extremely happy that I am more comfortable sending him pictures now, because despite us talking via webcam frequently, he knows how self-conscience I am. And things between us have been amazing lately.
This past weekend I took my “3 month post-op” pictures, which are the first ones I’ve taken full-body shots off since 2 days before surgery. I posted them both in my health blog (privately) and I was amazed. Actually I was more amazed at how fat my face was pre-op than I was about how much weight I could tell had come off. Maybe it’s because I never saw it that fat before, but seeing it in comparison to how it is now, I’m very sad.
How I could allow myself to get to that point? I don’t know that I’ll ever really know for sure. What triggered such massive weight gain? Some ideas:
- My parents divorce when I was 8. It was a nasty custody battle, much like the one my sister started going through when she was 8.
- My husband cheating on me when I was 18
- Bad southern-style country eating habits from both sides of the family whom are also mostly obese themselves.
- All of the above
People have voiced concern over the drastic measures I’ve taken to correct this by having gastric bypass surgery. But honestly, there are too many factors for anyone else but myself to make that judgment. Things like, what potential health problems I could have by being morbidly obese (diabetes is STRONG in my family), my emotional state of mind and self-confidence, my physical pain in my knees from carrying so much weight, my heredity and what I will pass on to my children, being able to take care of my father as he gets older (#1 reason I had the surgery), whether I have the willpower to lose the weight on my own without surgery. There are so many different things, and they were all important or strong enough for me to completely change my way of life to rectify them.
Yes there may be complications from surgery. Malnutrition, complications from major surgery, malabsorption, unknown long-term problems, but they are a chance….a risk. Less of a risk than the guaranteed health problems from being morbidly obese the rest of my life.
So there will be pictures once in a while. I’m just taking things step by step at this point.