A New Face and what that means

Jan 25, 2012

 I got a kick-ass awesome haircut and color yesterday, a very special treat that I promised my therapist I would get when I reached a certain weight loss milestone. I still have to get a mani/pedi, but I'm too self-conscious about my dry feet to have a stranger fix that. So today I spent some vanity time in front of the mirror. 

And I decided that Skinny Cheryl isn't bad looking at all. I have some sharp angles to my face and some killer cheekbones. I don't look "jolly" anymore, so I seemed unhappy at first, and I reflected that my new face probably reflects my interior mood a bit better than my old fat face did. A little "hard," which caused me to reflect on whether or not I'm a "hard" person. And I think I'm a little hard and a little soft, which is okay by me. I also recognized that I'm almost as pretty as my older sister who has always been the pretty one with the huge brown eyes and gorgeous body. I don't look like her. I still look different, but I think we're almost at even levels of attractiveness now. That was a huge revelation. 

All this vanity comes after my 3-month surgiversary (last week was the official date). My home scale says 188 pounds. Tomorrow I have my 3-month checkup, and I'll get an official weight and measurement. But I left the hospital at 244 pounds. Last January when I reached critical mass, I tipped the scale at 292. When I began the surgery process in March, my official start weight was 284. I am teetering on the edge of the Century Club, and it kind of blows my mind. I have not been this thin since I graduated from high school in 1999. 

I wear a size 16 jeans now and size large shirts. I hate wearing baggy stuff because it makes me look bigger than I am, and I like feeling tiny. I have a big "pouch" and my breasts are still a cup size different from each other. One is a C and the other is a D. None of my bras fit well anymore. I want to get cute bras that will hoist the "ladies" up, but until my weight stabilizes, I'm loathe to invest. So I'm still wearing bras that are too big for me, which makes them droop, which pisses me off because it ruins the overall effect of my skinnier body. Because let's face it. They've deflated like a pair of balloons. Back in high school before I gained all the weight, I was a B cup. I wonder if I'll ever get that small again. 

When I'm out in public, I wonder if strangers still see me as the fat girl or if they just see me as normal. I wonder if the overweight women at McDs inwardly scoff at my side salads or if they still see me as "one of them." I admit I judge them for what they eat and how much, but I keep my opinions to myself. I don't know anything about their lives, and just one year ago, I was eating a big mac and fries at McDs too. 

I am not a vain person. I never have been. I've worn make-up only to cover up bad skin (which has improved dramatically by the way). I hate shopping for clothes and shoes, and I don't spend much time on my appearance. I worry that my character will suffer with the advent of Skinny Cheryl, but I pray this obsession with my looks is just a phase. It's like a new toy, and it's changing my life.

On the medical/nutrition side... I'm drinking about six cups of skim milk a day for my protein intake. I try to eat a bite of real food each day just to practice and get used to the sensation, but I have to force myself. Lately I've been able to eat cheddar sticks, though mozzarella sticks give me a tummy ache. Mostly, I just drink milk and that's it. I'm still not exercising on a regular basis (pure sloth), but I have more energy, and I try to sprint somewhere at least once a day, and I run up the stairs all the time. 

On the personal side, the husband and I are going to a marriage retreat in the middle of February. We're not fighting all the time anymore, but I'm still very cautious around him, and the "spark" is totally not there. I'm hopeful that we'll have our marriage rejuvenated in time for our 7-year anniversary in March. It's in God's hands. As is the job interviews that he's had with a company in Milwaukee in the last couple weeks. His last interview went extremely well, and though I'm totally not keen on moving there, the pay raise would definitely ease some of our household strain. Chris has been commuting to a town an hour away each day, but since Milwaukee is 3-4 hours away, we wouldn't have a choice. We'd have to move. Not a happy prospect. God's hands. That's where it is. He's in charge, and if the job is offered and the salary package is sweet enough, I'll be obedient. 

I hope all of you are progressing on your journeys, regardless of where you are in them. 

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