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.

My Favourite Room

The bathroom is my favourite room in the house.

There's the mirror, who always shows me the truth. Good, bad, and yes even the ugly! :-)

And the scales, who can be both my friend and my foe. They take great pleasure when I've been deprived of my cravings...the less weight they have to support when I stand on them. They can be selfish bastards at times.

The bath tub, where I so infrequently relax, but should more because it does wonders for me.

The vanity, where I put my contacts in each morning and smile at the person staring back at me. I am now pretty enough not to hide behind my glasses.

And last but not least the shower. My haven away from all else. My sanctuary.

As a child I had a love/hate relationship with taking showers. On the one hand I loved them, it was the place I could just sit & think. If I had've been allowed, I would have spent hours in the shower as a kid. And once spent so long in there my grandfather threatened to throw refrigerated water over me to get me to come out. I've also fallen asleep in the shower.

And loving it so much leads to my dilemma. Because I knew I would spend as much time as possible in there, I'd feel like maybe I was missing out on something that was happening outside this sanctuary.

Now, not so much. Now the shower is my place. To chill out and relax, work out things in my head, and to let my emotions free.

When I cry, a lot of the times it's in the shower. And it feels so natural & calming.

My tears for my tragedies, heartaches, disappointments, anger, frustration, despair and loneliness are set free. Washed away with me feeling a little lighter.

My tears for my achievements, happiness, joy, excitement, dreams, hopes and wishes are also set free. I hope that when they're washed away, somehow because I let the good things go, good things will come back to me.

The water I love to feel splashing over me. Drenching me, hugging me. So refreshing and so calming.

The actual washing in the shower...the chance to rid yourself of the day, to start fresh. As my skin is washed away, a new me appears. Ever just slightly, but she's there.