My body has been through the wringer.
Cancer treatment was brutal. Not only did I need double mastectomies, a node dissection, a port (and its removal) to do some incredibly nasty chemo (and I was allergic to chemo so went into anaphylactic shock!), some pretty intense surgical biopsies, and a salpingo oopharectomy, I also had countless reconstruction surgeries. When I did radiation, I got third degree burns and had to go into intensive wound management. I took drugs that nearly crippled me; in the morning when I attempted to stand, my legs would buckle until I caught myself; I couldn't chop a carrot or sign my name because my hands hurt so much.
Ugly.
But along with the ugliness, there was another ugly: from a combination of the chemo steroids and the carb cravings, I gained weight. By the time chemo was done, I needed to lose 40 pounds - and I did! I joined Weight Watchers fresh out of chemo, and by the time I was done with radiation and a few more surgeries, I had gone down to my lowest adult weight. I was wearing size 4 clothes for the first (only!) time in my life, and people actually said "you're too skinny!" In hindsight, they might have been right, but not by too much.
From about 2006-2015 I kept up my good habits of diet and exercise. I did yoga sometimes, and I ran and hiked and walked a lot. From 2015-2017 my weight crept up a bit, but still in my comfort range.
But when I started teaching, I was so tired and overwhelmed that I let my good habits completely fall to the wayside. I started eating all of the staff room treats, sharing the treats that I brought for the students, and eating too much take-out because I was too tired to cook. I stopped exercising.
This January, I went in for my annual blood work, and I was shocked when I stood on the scale: it registered a number that I hadn't witnessed since my third trimester of pregnancy! As if that wasn't shock enough, my blood work came back with high cholesterol. It stung: I fought so hard to get my health back from cancer, and now I had to worry about heart attacks or strokes?!
I should have known. When I looked in the mirror, I didn't recognize what I saw. I saw pictures of myself and thought "SURELY I'm not that big?" even though I was buying larger clothes and my old clothes didn't fit. Even though my knees creaked on stairs, even though I had no energy, even though my face had changed shape. I should have known.
I knew what I had to do, so I immediately re-joined Weight Watchers the same day I got the results. I told my doctor that is what I was doing, and she was pleased: it's a program known for its health benefits, relying on balance and reason rather than trends and deprivation.
I joined on 2/2, and today, almost three months later, I'm down exactly 21 pounds.
21 pounds in just under three months is two things:
1. Not that remarkable. People can lose weight a LOT faster: if you look at The Biggest Loser, they might lose that much in a week or two.
2. Extraordinary. My body is transformed...is transforming still.
I lost on average less than two pounds per week this whole time, and I couldn't be happier about that. Why? Well, while I'd clearly like to be my ideal weight (I'm not there yet) as fast as possible, what I really want is to be healthy, and to pick up a plan to be healthy for the rest of my (hopefully long) life. Last time I lost weight, I did so quickly, and I did it by obsessing over every bite, and by being hungry all the time. Well, I like food, and I hate being hungry, so I wasn't going to do that again. At the pace I'm going now, I'm still eating contraband like brownies, bread with butter, and coq au vin. I've had take out, burgers, and pizza. I can eat like this for the rest of my life because NO food is off limits, and I'm thrilled about that.
How am I losing weight, then? Well, though I have eaten all of the fattening foods on that list, I don't eat them all the time, and I eat them in moderation. What an unsexy thing! No "get skinny fast!" and no "instant results!" There is no pill that is doing the work for me, no magic food that melts the pounds away. There is, instead, a constant series of choices: if I have this now, I can't have that later. If I want that really fattening food, I'll have to pare back on this meal, and that one. I'm eating far more fruits and veggies, and I've switched from white rice to brown, from plain pasta to brown rice or whole wheat pasta. I've switched from chicken thighs to chicken breasts, from ground beef to ground chicken or turkey, from pork sausage to chicken sausage. I'm eating a lot of fruit for snacks. I eat a lot less cheese.
And I'm happy.
21 pounds is a LOT of weight. Picture a pound of butter, those four sticks in a box: I've lost 21 boxes worth. That's crazy! Every part of me is different: my face has changed feet, and (much to my surprise) I've lost a half size in my shoes! (My slip on shoes no longer fit. My lace up or buckle shoes have gone to tighter settings.) I pulled clothes out of the back of the closet that I haven't worn in years - and they fit again! Clothes that I wore all year to school are now in the donation bin. And the shorts from last summer that barely buttoned because they were so tight? I've had to give them away because they're too big! (Craziest yet, I'm not done. While my BMI is back in healthy range, my squishy stomach is letting me know there is still work to be done, and that's okay. I'm on it!)
My knees don't creak as much. I'm sleeping better.
I don't know if my cholesterol is falling, but statistically, just losing 5% of one's weight is enough to lower cholesterol, and I've lost 12% so far. I was supposed to go back to the doctor next month to have my bloodwork re-done, but since I fear the doctor's office due to sick patients, I cancelled until further notice. I already know it's going to be better: how could it not? I look forward to seeing the results.
But the thing that surprised me, although I don't know that it should have, is that I am enjoying feeling attractive again. I pride myself on not being too vain, valuing substance over style, and I'll be like that until my dying day....but it's not all or nothing. I walk with a little more bounce in my step now. I enjoy getting dressed (even though there's nowhere to go!). I feel - dare I say it? - pretty.
I like it.
I deserve to feel good, and I am SO TIRED OF FEELING BAD.
Life is messy and complicated. My father is ashamed of me, my mother incapable of speaking up for me, and I've recognized how much that is a part of me. I think I was beginning to accept that feeling bad was just part of the deal, and my weight might have been my way of embracing it. Just typing that sentence makes me feel so sad for myself, and for what I've lost, and for what could have been and isn't.
And then there is the world gone mad that is coronavirus, and working from home, and social isolating, and the uncertainty of it all.
But I am more excited for what is ahead than I am sad for what is behind.
My new body is still my old body: it is the one I was born with, and the one that has been through transformation after transformation. It is the body that grew a human and then, impossibly, gave birth on Pitocin and through pre-eclampsia without meds, and that body discovered the super-human strength within. It is the body that was maimed, poisoned, burned during chemo, but then rose up again to run half marathons. It is a body that has grown, and shrunk, and grown again - but it is still elastic, still capable of shrinking to a size more becoming.
I am not done becoming who I am meant to be.
I am fifty years old, but I feel that I learn lessons every five minutes, and often it strikes me that everyone else learned these lessons years before and that I'm the last one to arrive to them... but then I realize that no, we're all learning lessons, and I'm ahead on some and behind on others, and that is how it is for 99% of us.
Right now, I'm learning that I crave a beautiful body that is filled with strength, and that having such a body makes me feel confident and beautiful, and I deserve that. I'm learning that my appearance matters to me more than I thought it did. I'm learning that I can reshape myself, not only emotionally but also physically, again and again, and that sometimes my physical and emotional states are tied to one another. My layers of fat were not protective, as I'd hoped: they were a trap that held me still, prevented me from becoming who I want to be.
Now, for those fat-acceptance folks out there: you go, girls! I'm glad you're happy. But this isn't about that. This is about me not being healthy, and embracing health, and finding the joy that comes with that health.
And it's about feeling beautiful. Maybe others feel good at a high BMI, but here's the truth: I don't.
I am thrilled to get this body back, to re-inhabit my skin in this way.
I bought a bikini, and a paddle board. I intend to spend as much of the summer as humanly possible out on the water, gently gliding over the waves. Maybe sometimes I'll even picnic out there, or read a book out there. I'll explore the coastline of West Seattle, free and strong. I hope to backpack too - and anyone who has backpacked knows that you'd go to a great deal of trouble to avoid carrying an extra five pounds, so losing 21 pounds not out of my pack but off my body will make all the difference in the world. There is no feeling in the world like climbing to a beautiful place with an alpine lake, setting up a tent, and then diving into icy cold waters on a hot day. The water washes away the trail's dust, reinvigorates the soul, and fills me with a joy that is hard to come by on an ordinary day.
I want that again.
And, despite the fact that it's coronavirus quarantines and so I deleted my dating app (I'm not risking my life to meet a stranger!), I think I'm just that much closer to being ready for love. Having some confidence about my appearance is certainly helpful, but I honestly believe that there are changes happening within that are bigger than the changes on the outside.
I deserve to feel great. I'm willing to put in the work. I believe in myself and my ability to make progress, to change, to become a new person.
I believe that I'm still the little girl who was once filled with possibility and promise, before the world gave her messages about being enough, or being someone who would cause shame in a father.
I am going back to who I am, old and new, all at once. I believe in do-overs, I believe in fresh starts, and I believe in learning and growth. As my body continues to shrink to the size it is meant to be, I feel myself growing.
The best is yet to come.
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