Men.

I'm beginning to hate men. Not all men. I love my husband. My dad. My brother. My friends. The nice cashier guy at Trader Joe's. These men I do not hate.

I hate strange men. I hate men who call me "baby girl" because I happen to make eye contact with them while walking back home. I hate men who don't know my name but demand I smile. I hate men who think that this is okay.

Who do they think they are? Who do they think I am?!

Being hit on has historically been a rare occurrence for me. A guy I knew in high school once called me "asexual" ... and he wasn't trying to be insulting - just observant.

Part of this weight loss journey has been learning that my 150 extra pounds were a literal and figurative wall against the world. I didn't have to really interact with people. I didn't have to have real feelings about real things because I was insulated from it all. The first part of this unveiling has mostly involved me learning how to feel feelings - have real emotions about real things and have that be okay.

This next part is shaping up to look like learning what it means to be an average woman in American society. I don't want to be. I don't like it. I don't like feeling pressure to eat the right womanly things. I don't like the pressure to wear make-up and fashionable clothes and have good hair. Part of me loves to do those things but I also hate the baggage that those things seem to come with.

It feels like a whole package deal wherein sexual harassment comes standard. My friends aren't outraged by this anymore. They've dealt with it for decades. It's normal for them. But it's all new to me and I hate it. I'm outraged. I'm disgusted.

I've been at a weight loss stall for a few months. All summer I've been stuck at almost 100 pounds lost. Part of this is that my doctor explained, "The first 100 pounds will be easy. The last 50 you'll have to work for." I'm not eating right or exercising as often as I should. I can blame it on being incredibly busy, but really I feel like I'm subconsciously (maybe consciously at this point) staying in this holding pattern until I can get used to the concept of a new me.

I feel scared and helpless. What if some "baby girl" type guy decides he wants to push the envelope? What am I going to do? No really. What the hell would I do? I can yell and kick and scream and I pray that I would be able to do that and not just freeze. But what if I froze and what if he's a lot stronger than me?

My current solution to this is to take a women's self defense class. I think I might feel better if I knew I could kick some ass and stand a chance. And I'm going to be outraged for a while.

Because this isn't okay.

Changes

I'm a little over halfway to my goal in this journey. I've lost 85 pounds so far and there's been some changes I wasn't expecting.

1. Fruit and baked goods are my new favorites. I was a big fan of neither, pre-surgery.
2. I like to exercise. Or, at least, I do it. I do something physical with my body at least 5 days a week and have kept that up for 4 months. That's the longest I've ever stuck with an exercise plan.
3. My skin is looser than I was hoping it would be. Discovered last night that even my hands have some extra skin. I'm hoping that it will tighten up over time. I'd really rather avoid the plastic surgery to fix it.
4. My hands and feet have lost weight.
5. I like to wear dresses.

I'm trying to be kind to myself through this process and patient with the journey. Frustration leads to giving up and that's not an option in this case. I've taken the stance of observation as I go through this and I'm doing my best not to think/talk about it constantly. Just breathe and practice gratitude.

6 months out

I'm a few days past 6 months out from the surgery. So far I've lost 69 pounds. I'm hoping that my official weigh-in next Thursday will send me soaring past the 70 pound mark. Every ten pounds feels like a major victory. My next major goal is to hit 100 lbs by John's birthday at the end of April.

There have been ups and downs and I still feel like I'm learning how this whole thing works. The weight loss has slowed way down - I even stalled for a few weeks over the holidays. However, the new year has brought new resolve.

I've been exercising at least 5 days/week. My minimum (and most frequent) workout is a 20 minute hulu video - pilates, yoga, or cardio toning. There's no excuse not to roll out of bed to my living room for less than half an hour in the morning. I also usually go to the gym with my students once a week where I do some elliptical and weight lifting. I tried a free yoga class on the beach bluff a few blocks from my house yesterday and loved it. I'm hoping to make it a Friday morning tradition. John and I also try to ride bikes as often as we can, but with the winter early sunsets and busy schedules that's usually only once every couple of weeks. It's amazing to recognize that I like being active. I never allowed myself to be competitive or believe I could be good at anything requiring athleticism. It feels so freeing to be rid of the lies that my fat body told me. I'm lighter in so many ways. (And I'm not even halfway to my end goal yet!)

I've had about half a dozen episodes of extreme stomach pain. I went to the ER once for it and discovered a newfound appreciation for morphine. The doctors aren't sure what's wrong but think it may have to do with "sludge" in my gall bladder. They seem sure that it's definitely not anything to do with my sleeve. So far, (in my opinion) it seems to most closely correlate with my water consumption: lots of water = happy tummy, lack of water = VERY angry tummy.

Food consumption is tough. It's so hard to get used to eating the way I should. I'm just now starting to stop when I'm getting full vs. eating until I'm in pain. I'm learning that the surgery is a fantastic tool, but I still struggle with what I would call a food addiction/emotional eating. I'm now capable of choosing to eat a small chicken salad for lunch and getting full after eating it (something that was NOT possible for me before). But tonight we did budgeting which is never a happy time and I ate a small bowl of cereal, crackers, cheese and a few sips of wine - more out of an emotional response to the subject of the night than actually being hungry. I'm still working on consistently making good eating choices regardless of whims, cravings, or my emotional state.

Thanks to a tip from a friend, I started using My Fitness Pal. It's a great tool to keep me accountable, but sometimes I feel discouraged when I go over my calorie recommendation. I'm trying to let it empower me to make good choices instead of get me down. I'm also trying to remember that when 1,772 calories (today's count) is a really high day, I'm not doing all that bad. I can only imagine what that number would've been a year ago.


Overall, I couldn't be happier that I got the surgery. I feel a freedom and hope that I haven't in a long time. I feel so blessed that the Lord opened the doors for this opportunity.

PS - I can't wait until I can shop for clothes in cute little boutiques! I'm rediscovering my sense of style. I'm funky!