Today I scheduled an abdominolplasty (Tummy Tuck cosmetic surgery) for early December.
I’ve hated the midsection of my body for 24 years. Hate is a really strong word, but it fits here. In fact, I told the surgeon that I hate it with the “fire of a thousand suns”. 24 years is also a really long time to carry something you hate that much on your body.
I spent those 24 years either dieting or licking my wounds over a failed diet attempt. I don’t know if you can relate, but it’s seriously defeating to try to accomplish something so many times, and never get there. It’s soul crushing. It kills your self-esteem. This is on top of all of the messages society sends you when you’re a very overweight woman. You know, how you’re stupid and incapable and lack self control and unattractive and unwanted? Yeah, those.
I finally lost about 30 pounds in 2010, then plateaued.
I lost another 55 pounds over 2014/2015.
Then I gained weight, and lost the regain, plus another 5 pounds in 2016, hitting 100 pounds lost. I hit that 100 pounds lost mark not just once in 2016, but twice, because, apparently I have a thick skull when it comes to managing my dietary habits.
I was happier with my body, don’t get me wrong, but I still hated the midsection of my body.
I got a tummy tuck consultation back then, but didn’t go forward with it. I didn’t want to get the surgery until I was at my goal weight, because apparently if I lost another 15 pounds, that would make the results not as good, and could result in loose skin all over again, basically blowing $7,000. I also felt like getting the surgery meant that I had failed at losing all of the weight “the right way” and that if I had low enough body fat, that a little bit of loose skin would be no big deal. I didn’t want to admit failure, so I told myself I’d lose another 5 pounds and then reconsider.
Then I started to gain weight again in 2016 for the third time. Seriously, a third time.
I’ve now finally gotten a handle on myself and about 12 of those regained pounds are gone now. And I’m back to where I was in 2015, 2.5 years ago. So basically I’ve been spinning my wheels ever since then. Dieting, binging, dieting again, binging again, and the whole time, still hating my body, and not ever feeling happy with where I was, or done with dieting. Dieting was just part of life, part of me, part of my identity. It was like an obsession. I was either on a diet, licking my wounds over a failed diet, or getting ready to begin a diet. Diet Diet Diet. Like seriously I am a broken record and it’s ridiculous how much of my mental time and energy this has taken through my entire life.
I am so sick of dieting.
I am so sick of hating my body.
I’m so ready to be done and over with all of this.
I decided that I’d get another surgery consult this week and book a surgery in December. I decided that if I ever did end up losing all of that weight, and I ended up with even more loose skin at that point, well then, a second corrective surgery would be money well spent.
But earlier this week, right before my consult, I realized that I really only need to lose about 16 pounds before I got to that point where I promised myself I’d reconsider surgery a year ago. And I was scheduling my surgery about 10.5 weeks out.
I realized that I could lose 16 pounds in 10.5 weeks, or at least, most of it, if I get a rough deficit of 800-900 calories each day until then.
Then I booked the surgery about 10.5 weeks out.
But then I thought about it some more. I’m very likely to lose another 5 ish pounds through the surgery and recovery process. And that puts me right at my goal weight, right where I wanted to be all along, with a beautifully sculpted new midsection to match.
I realized that I could be at my goal weight on Jan 1 and finally have a surgically sculpted body that I feel good about and proud of. Like, I could be done. I could be finally done with all this. Like, I’ve been dieting since I was 13, and now I’ll finally, finally, get to stop. I could actually literally be done and over all of this mess and noise.
So, I’ve decided I’m finally going to be done with 25 years of dieting on January 1. It’s finally going to be over. I’m finally going to be done. I’m finally going to accomplish something I’ve been chasing my entire life.
It’s so monumental to me. Just such a life changing thing. To know and believe that there really is an end to all this self hatred and self punishment and deprivation. A defined end that I believe in, that is an actual end. To believe in myself so strongly, and see an actual light at the end of this fucking long ass tunnel. I literally can write it into my calendar. I can see that date quickly approaching roughly 3 months from now. Twenty years of wanting this and now I KNOW it’s just 3 months away.
All I have to do is dial it in and be on point with my habits for 3 months.
That’s NOTHING compared to 25 YEARS.
I don’t even care that I’m about to spend 5 of the next 10 weeks traveling all over creation. I don’t even care that I’m dating which naturally involves a stupid amount of time in restaurants for some reason. I do not care. I Do Not Care about the obstacles. I Don’t Care. This is Happening.
I can’t really express the power this has for me right now.
I know and understand that one phase of this journey is about to end, and on January 1st, weight maintenance will begin, and I’ll have new challenges in maintaining my weight loss.
But I finally get to trade in one set of old challenges for a new set.
And that is exactly what is going to happen on January 1st.
Kinda strange that I didn’t have this kind of confidence, drive, and clarity until AFTER I put down a deposit on this surgery. But I guess that is the power of really committing to something.
So yeah that’s what I’m working on this week… cleaning up some really bad habits and really sticking to the good ones, and having really bright guidelines for myself rather than blurry ones, which always gets me into trouble.