Just before my 10th birthday my stepfather began coming into my room at night while my mother was at work. This continued until I was 12 years old. I tried several times to tell my mother over those years what was happening to me but she didn't want to hear it and I didn't know what words to use. My grandmother stayed with me once and figured it out and also tried to stop it but again, her words fell on deaf ears. Her attempts caused a huge rift between her and my mother that was never repaired. I finally stopped it myself. Many ramifications. The most lasting one besides my view of the world was my view of myself. Somehow, I blamed the way I looked. If I didn't look like that he wouldn't want me. While my conscious mind knew that it had nothing to do with me, the result was a slow, steady weight gain that continued until June 11th 2015.
After struggling with diets and exercise, back pain, knee pain and hip pain, I decided that something had to change. A friend had the surgery and loved the results. It took a year for me to decide and then I did. Once the decision was made, I was excited. I started making a list of all the things I looked forward to -- not being in pain anymore, my blood pressure going down, my blood sugar leveling out, shopping at any store, shopping in my closet, being able to wear normal shoes, my feet not swelling anymore...so many things. I add to list everyday. I can see my cheekbones again, my face is thinner, so are my fingers, my thighs don't rub together when I walk, I can walk up 4 flights of stairs, I can walk again.
Don't get me wrong, I have achieved much success in my life both personally and in my career. I just couldn't do this without help. The feeling is amazing to step on the scale and see it change each week. It's great to not be hungry anymore. I feel braver, stronger, more in charge of my body. Life is very good and I am grateful for the gift of this surgery. I love this new life.
