Ch...Ch...Ch...Changes

I have been working on this post for months now, but haven’t been satisfied enough with what I’ve written to publish it. My mind races with a million different thoughts that lead me down a million different paths, and that’s just one reason why this is so difficult. It’s hard to share what’s going on, when I’m still adjusting to it and working it out for myself.

It has been almost two years since I became sick and started losing weight. Almost two years that have been full of tears, determination, fears, sweat, uncertainty, self-doubt, pain, joy, happiness, adjustment and so much more. I am not the same person I was then. I couldn’t be with all the changes and everything that has happened.

As I write this, my total weight loss is 32kg (70.5lbs). I’ve lost 5 dress sizes and goodness only knows how many inches. These aren’t the only things I’ve lost; I’ve also lost my self-identity, self-consciousness, countless outfits that I adored and many other things. However, there are many things that I have gained over this time as well. A new self-identity, self-confidence that I have never known before, the freedom to walk into any clothing store and not having to worry about whether anything will fit me, and last but not least my health and knowing that I’ve added many more years to my life.

There are not enough words or enough space on my blog to explain all the ways I’ve changed (and no doubt you would be bored if I listed them all). However, I can share with you what all this has done for me. As clichéd as it sounds, this has been a big, long, eye-opening and extremely personal journey. I’ve done a lot of soul searching, a lot of thinking, and a mass of writing during this time. I’ve learnt and realised so much more about myself that I thought I would, and I’m better for it. I know myself, my emotions (and the reasons behind these) better than I ever have before. I believe I am a better me for going through this, because I have discovered the real and true me. I’m still adjusting to everything and probably will be for some time to come. After all, I haven’t reached my goal weight yet, but I am close.

Putting aside the obvious health benefits, the best part of this journey is how I now feel about myself. I never thought that I would be satisfied or content with being me. And many years ago I gave up on being the person I wanted to be. I had (grudgingly) accepted that I would always be fat and that that was just something I had to live with. How I feel about myself now, is something I only ever dreamed about, but never thought I would actually experience. For the very first time in my life, I can honestly say that I am truly happy with being who I am, with being me.

I am not perfect now that I’ve lost weight, and I never will be (but perfection is not my goal). I still have lessons to learn, and improvements to make and that’s okay. Just like it’s okay that there are physical aspects to my body that I would like to improve. However, if (for whatever reason) my body had to say the way it is right now, I would be content, I would be satisfied, but most of all I would be happy. I would be lying if I said that I found this easy. I haven’t. But to come out at the other end of this, knowing I’m a better (and healthier) version of me, is and has been worth it.

And it’s such a great feeling to finally feel sexy naked.

Damp Down Under

It's been two and a half months since I went off the pill and had the implant put in. Since then, I haven't had any of the following: periods, cramps, nausea and (the best one) pms. However, when I was on the pill, a week beforehand I would be incredibly horny. Now that I have the implant, I don't have this week.

I'm horny for four out of four weeks in a month. Yes, all four. Although I'm not super, mega, heavy duty horny all the time (like I was in the week beforehand), I am always aroused and ready for sex.

I couldn't calculate, in a day, the amount of time I spend touching my clit or playing with my lips, or casually dipping in the tip of a finger. My hands have a mind of their own. I'll be watching TV and become aware of the hand between my legs, curiously & quietly masturbating. Every single time I wake up through the night I am wet, and one of my hands is between my legs, rubbing my clit.

I am constantly aroused.

I am the typical teenage boy in a woman's body. Yes, I do fantasise about women, but that's not what I mean. As a result of my state of arousal, I'm always thinking about sex. Fantasising about trying new things; thinking of different ways to seduce Him; thinking about how I could take advantage of the situation and masturbate. However much I love being aroused and thinking about sex, it's devilishly frustrating at times.

So if it were my choice, how often would I want it? Sex, I would want daily. Hell, what am I talking about if's for? I do want it everyday! Okay, so if it were my choice, how often would I actually get it? Daily, preferably in the mornings or afternoons (that's my thing at the moment). I hear you ask about masturbation? Daily as well :-)

If you were as horny as often and for as long as I am, wouldn't you take advantage of the it? I bet you would ;-)

Moments

I fell in love with you, all over again last night.

The way you held me and gently whispered into my ear how beautiful I was.

How you touched me lovingly, exploring my body.

How you looked at me, like I was all you could see.

We have the movie, hallmark moments too. It’s just that ours don’t have a soundtrack and aren’t being filmed.

Last night was my hallmark moment.

I love you handsome

Love HNT

*Click*

A couple of days ago I went shopping for some new tops. Now that I've lost so much weight (over 55lbs/25kg's) what I have/had is pretty much too big. With winter fast approaching, I needed some tops that I could wear, but this I picked up for a measly $5. Good for around the house and to bed.

And more than anything, it sums up exactly how I feel about myself now. It's been a long time coming for me to be happy with my physical appearance, and I have never loved what I looked like. Sure, I haven't reached my goal weight yet, but with each day it's getting closer. And although there's parts of my body that aren't exactly how I would like them to be, I do love what I look like.

Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday!

Don't forget to see who else participated.

I'm working on it

I have changed.

My thoughts have changed.

More specifically, my thoughts about myself have changed.

I am no longer afraid to look in the mirror. I am no longer afraid to catch a glimpse of myself in a store window. I don’t shy away from looking at myself. In fact, I take great advantage of our bathroom mirror while washing my hands after a visit to the loo, or when I’m getting dressed. And I’m not ashamed to admit that in that way, I’m a little vain :-)

How I look at and think about myself now is how I always believed I should, but never did. I was the fat kid growing up. I was the fat best friend of the most popular girl in school. I look back on photos of me as a kid and although I don’t cringe, one of the first things I take note of is my weight. And it’s not just childhood photos.

Prime example: The first year I got a job (18yrs) was the first year I didn’t have to borrow money to buy anyone Christmas presents. Boy, was that an achievement. I wanted something special, something meaningful, and something that would be remembered for awhile to come. I decided I wanted to get some professional photos taken of me. I organised it all, including getting my best friend to take me and stay/help throughout, because I didn’t have my licence yet (let alone my own car). She was even nice enough later to come pick me up and come over with me to decide which ones I wanted to buy for the family. I was so organised that when I paid for it, I had a grand total of $5 left in my account (okay, so I was on my way to really being organised, but at least I didn’t have to ask my friend for money).

Anyway, I’m getting off track. They were a hit Christmas Day and they all loved their presents (each of them received a different photo I’d picked out especially). Two of these photos are still hanging on the wall at mum’s. Which leads me to why I started this (longer-than expected) example. I noticed them on the wall when I was back home for Christmas a couple of weeks ago. I took one look and screwed my nose up “Eww….fat photos!” I cringed. I wasn’t my heaviest when those photos were taken (just over 4 years ago), but they’re still fat photos to me. (Interestingly enough, the one I gave mum, which she keeps in her bedroom, was/is my favourite from all the photos taken. This one photo I don’t see and think I’m fat, nor do I cringe. Nope, not with this one. I look at it and all I do is smile and think ‘I really am beautiful’. It is one of those few photos taken over my life that I love to my core).

Okay, so I still have what I call fat photos. I still look at them and cringe. But it is my hope that one day I can look at these and not. That one day I’ll see them and I won’t hate the person looking back at me. I still have fat photos because I still hate myself for allowing my weight to get where it was. I still hate myself for allowing my health to get to the point it was.

I’m learning to love myself, and I think I do a little better each day. That portion of me that loathes how easy it was to be in denial about such an important problem, is shrinking. Just as that portion of me that loves how much I’ve taken control of this problem, is expanding.

I’m working on it. I’m working on treating myself better, and being a better me.

Can't you just love me for who I am?

It’s been almost 12months since I last shaved under my arms. (I don’t have worse b.o. now than when I was shaving regularly, it hasn’t really changed. Just in case you were wondering.) But I’m deciding whether it’s time to shave again. I don’t want to, but there’s a couple of factors that are making me think about it.

First off, I’m going back and spending Christmas with my family this year. And Christmas lunch, usually low key, with just a few people, is now being spent with extended family (20 or so people). It’s a (very) hot climate where I’ll be on the day, and to be honest, wearing a shirt with sleeves (to hide my hair) will be a rather uncomfortable option.

Now, some of you are probably thinking things along the lines of:
What’s the big deal, you’re comfortable with your hair, so why shave? or
It’s not their body, you’re only seeing them for a little amount of time and then leaving, so they can just deal with it. Etc.

See, the thing is, it’s not as simple as that. As much as I wish it was, it just isn’t. Last time my mum came to visit me, she was surprised and shocked that I still hadn’t shaved my legs (it’s been 17months since I shaved them). And comments were made. She hadn’t seen under my arms, so for the 3days and two nights that she was here, I was doing all I could to wear tops that hid my hair. On the day she was leaving (not even 2hours before), I got a bit lapse, lifted my arm up too high, at the wrong angle and she saw. The expression on her face said it all. Complete horror, shock, disbelief, disgust. Whatever, however you want to classify it; it was immediately obvious that this was something she wasn’t really ok with.

In the past, when I was living at home, there were medical reasons* why I couldn’t shave my legs. This she accepted. She also accepted the fact that I couldn’t see in the shower well enough without my glasses to do a half decent job. The other night, I’m on the phone with her and the subject comes up. “You’ve got contacts now; you can see to do them. And what about under your arms?”. “Yes, but I’m still having problems* when I do shave”. (Not totally true, but since I’ve stopped shaving the problems have gone away).

This is something I’m quite sensitive about. When this was brought up, I was just sick of it being an issue for her, when it’s not with me. Okay, body hair isn’t accepted here on women (or in many other places for that matter), but fuck it, if I want to not shave, then I don’t fucking have to! I got quite stirred up when it was brought up. She even said “Don’t you think he wants you to shave?” to which my reply was “If he wants me to, he’ll tell me”. Then she started saying that she’ll just have to start calling me a hippie. This, just rubbed me the wrong way. My response was “And what if I don’t want to shave my legs? Can’t you just accept that this is me?” You could hear the disappointment in her sigh.

So this is where I am. Going home to spend a few days of the holidays with the family, knowing that this will be an issue. Knowing that something or many things will be said to me. And I just don’t feel like defending myself. And why the fuck should I? I’m happy with how I am, he’s happy with how I am. But then I think “fuck it. It’s just going to be easier to shave and not have these hassles”. Problem is, the more I think about it, the more attached I’ve become. And it’s also a matter of principle. I don’t see you all that often, so in the grand scheme of things, why should you care? Can’t you just still love me, warts hair and all? I had decided to shave for Christmas, and I even told him that I would. His reaction “why?”

And I’m visiting other family members tomorrow most of whom haven’t seen me in two and a half years, and I thought, “Well if I’m going to shave for Christmas, I should just get it over and done with and do it now, before I go and visit them”. Again, the more I think about it, the more I am against it.

I don’t want to shave to please other people, and I don’t have to; that’s my choice. But on the same token, I don’t want to be questioned about it either. I want to be strong and just say “fuck it. This is who I am. Like it or lump it.” But I don’t know if I am that strong.

Right now as I write this, I think I am strong enough to stand by my decision and have that attitude. But who knows, I’ve still got 24 hours until I leave to visit the family tomorrow, and 17 days until I go home for Christmas. I’ll probably swing back and forth between “yes, just do it” and “no, fuck ‘em” between now and then.

I’m attached to my hair. I’m a hair friendly woman. And I’m proud of that. Okay, so it may not be for everyone, but does anyone else really have a right to question me?

Lasting moments

The cuddling at night.
The quiet.
Where all of the day's worries are (or should be) forgotten, stored away, put to the side.

It's one of those time that I know and feel that I am truly loved.
Yes, I know I'm loved, but these moments, I treasure.

The quiet, hearing his breathing.
I feel safe in his arms.

I've never liked going to bed, but I always love going to bed with him.
It's calming, it centres me, it relaxes me.

Those last few moments of peace before drifting off.
Knowing he'll be there when I wake in the morning, or even through the night.

The closeness shared of our skin touching.
Our breathing synchronised.
Hearing his heart beat.
Holding his hand as we drift away.

I am a simple woman of simple pleasures.
And this is one of them.

I truly love him in these moments.
These snippets of time, in which I wish they would last forever.

And every night they do.
Every night I fall asleep, next to him, in his arms, our bodies touching, but also our hearts, I am a happy woman; a woman in love.

The way to a man's heart....

Well tonight I've got a nice dinner all planned for us.

Main:
Chicken Kiev and Chicken Mignon with mashed potatoes, pumpkin, steamed corn, carrots and beans.

Dessert:
Fresh local strawberries topped with thickened cream and icing sugar.

It should be very nice. And do you know why I'm doing this? Just because. Just because I love him and just because I can. What better reason is there?

Just one of many

One of the reasons I love him... we can laugh at one another. Like the other night when we had a conversation in caveman :)

Mmm...I love him.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Happy Valentine's Day to you all! I hope you enjoy the picture, I couldn't help but post this, especially considering the standard gift is flowers at this time of the year.

I wish you all the best for February 14th, whether you're with your loved one or apart, or maybe you haven't found them yet.

For those of you lucky enough to be with the one you love, don't take it for granted and enjoy the time you have together. I wish you lots of fun (both naughty and nice) and happiness.

For those of you that are apart from your loved one at this time, don't despair, because I'm away from mine too. I know it's sad to be apart, but someday soon you'll be with them again, and when you are together...cherish the time you have and enjoy each other's company.

And last but not least, to those who are reading this but haven't found that special someone yet, I say this...be patient, and don't rush it. Wait for Cupid and his arrow to strike you, he knows best. I was struck when I least expected it (that's the way it usually happens), and I wouldn't change it for the world. Don't fret, your time will come and believe me, when it does, nobody will be able to wipe that grin off your face.

So I'll say it again, Happy Valentine's Day everyone and enjoy your day, however it turns out! I wish all of you all the best at this time.


Lucy