10 days.

I have gone back and forth whether I would share this on social media or not. But as you all know, I am an over-sharer that has found great support in my online community. So go easy on me.

In 10 days I am doing something big. This something is only for me. Selfish. Expensive. Life changing.

It’s something I have wanted to do for at least 10 years. It took this long for plastic surgeons to judge a candidate by more than just their BMI. It took Tik Tok to show me it was time.

I have struggled with my weight for most of my life. The scale has gone up and down by as much as 70 lbs since 1999. I had a doctor tell me I had PCOS back in 2010, but that’s not a black and white diagnosis, it’s symptom based. I didn’t have any trouble getting pregnant when I finally decided to, and that’s one of the most common symptoms, so it made me doubt the dx. I do have a lot of the other symptoms…so that’s one possibility of why it’s been so hard for me to ever maintain a significant weight loss. And two c-sections. That and my emotional baggage and survival skills. Some call it poor coping mechanisms. But here I am, surviving.

I don’t know who benefits from hating their body. To stop looking in the plate glass windows as they walk by and to try to hide with every clothing purchase.

To build walls so high very few can scale them.

To be judged by others before you even open your mouth to speak.

To be called a “fat cunt” by a stranger because you didn’t see him on the road and almost caused an accident. My bad.

To have your children’s peers say to them, “you know your mom is fat, right?” Yes, you horrible child with a wonderful mother, we know. Don’t worry, I won’t tell your mom. I will just carry it with me forever.

I have tried nearly every organized diet or weight loss program there is. Some over and over again. I have taken Dexatrim, Chitosan, countless “fat burners” and protein shakes, Fen-Phen, Phentermine, Xenical, Contrave, and Qsymia. I take adderall for my adult-onset (or at least that was when it was diagnosed) ADHD. None of those will fix a brain with childhood trauma so deep that years of talk therapy can’t fix it. My story is my story, I can close the book and put it on a shelf but I can’t rewrite it. The best advice I ever received was to just keep fucking going. So I do that.

I won’t ever starve myself again. It always comes right back within 6 months. And eating a cheeseburger is way better than using meth, as far as life skills go. So are tattoos, but that’s a different post.

For years I have thought about weight loss surgery. Perhaps a Gastric Bypass or Sleeve. But those don’t fix that brain vs cheeseburger problem and I also like to drink sometimes. Not often, but when I do, I like to do it right. You are not supposed to drink ETOH after those surgeries. I don’t want to live with only 3 bites of a cheeseburger and one glass of wine. These surgeries are not for me.

So after finding plus-sized Tik Tok (or it finding me more like) and seeing that more and more plastic surgeons are doing safe surgeries on women with high BMIs, I started doing some serious research.

I found a reputable and experienced surgeon that looked at me as a whole person and not just a calculation.

And so, I am cleared for surgery. Perhaps cleared for take-off.

In 10 days I will go through Phase 1 of my Mommy Makeover. I will have an Extended Abdominoplasty with Muscle Repair and some Liposuction. I will get a fake belly button, just for funsies.

Phase 2 comes 10 weeks after that, with a Breast Reduction. I’m not even going to get much into that part right now…you try living with these breasts your whole life and see how it feels, inside and out. From cat calls AKA sexual harassment to no eye contact and back, neck, and shoulder pain. From cute clothes that never fit right to zippers that won’t close and buttons that pop. To hiding. Always hiding. Since puberty.

So that’s two surgeries, instead of three. Cuz if I did the Gastric Bypass, I would still need a tummy tuck and breast reduction. And I can still eat a cheeseburger and drink a bottle of wine (or two) once in awhile.

And I will have the freedom of movement I haven’t had since I can’t remember when. I will be able to breathe easy for the first time in my adulthood. It’s not easy moving this body around, folks. You probably knew that without me saying it, cuz you can see it.

So for those of you that worked really hard and kept the weight off, I commend you. I know how hard it is. I respect your tenacity and healthfulness. I have repeatedly tried to make those same lifestyle changes without permanent success. I’m a bit broken, you see. I am so flawed.

But I am tired of beating myself up over it and I am tired of hating my body.

So you can judge me all you want, but just keep that shit to yourself.

I’m doing this for me, not you.

The recovery is long and intimidating. I will be out of commission for 6-8 weeks they say, then the breast reduction restarts that clock. I will have surgical drains and pain and Frankenstein incisions.

But got damn, by June I’m going to wear that damn bikini and feel good in it for the first time in my life! I’m going to move my body in ways that have been forgotten. I am going to breathe easy.

So go easy on me.