for the longest time, i ignored what every doctor said to me...that the chances of me losing the weight i'd need to, and maintaining that loss for life were slim to none...that statistically speaking the odds were against me...that i really ought to consider weight loss surgery while i was still healthy.
part of it was pride - i didn't want help, i felt that i could do it on my own. i had already lost 130 pounds on weight watchers once and i could do it again. i knew how to do it. i didn't want an easy way out. i didn't want to have to change everything about my life. i wanted to be normal. as i continued to struggle though, every day, my concept of normal was being tested - put best by my longtime doctor who was pushing the idea of surgery, my current weight and lifestyle "isn't normal either."
then one day in february of this year, i sat in a hair salon with my mother who saw every ounce of depression and exhaustion and shame on my face. she told me that she knew how hard i'd been working at this, and that it was really time to have some return on that investment, that i deserved it, and she encouraged me to consider the surgery again. although the next few weeks of information sessions and appointments and reading and talking were key, i think i had truly made the decision in that very moment.
the first crucial thing that happened was that i quickly realized that this was no easy way out - as if there could be such a thing with something like a lifelong struggle with weight. i came to understand that it would take work and a lot of it. it would take patience and learning and growth, the same way a "normal" weight loss would, and in some ways, even more so. i realized that i would still be able to take ownership over my weight loss, and feel proud of it and responsible for it - after all, it would be my decision to have the surgery, my decision to follow the rules and change my life, my decision to live and stay healthy.
around the same time, i did a lot of reading on binge eating and accepted that it's a disorder i have, and have had for as long as i can remember. although carrie, my therapist, had always talked about it this way, i think i disassociated when i heard the word "disorder" and maybe just wasn't able to accept it until this point in time. and when i did, when i accepted that not everything about my weight was my fault, the most incredible thing happened...the shame was gone. all these years, although i've been strong and confident in many ways, and have always loved myself and been proud of who i am, i've also carried such shame about my weight and what it says about me - to the world, to my friends and family, to myself; such shame about being such a perfectionist and an achiever in so many ways, and failing so miserably at this, though it was what i wanted more than anything in the world. and in the moment i understood and believed that there were factors out of my control, the shame went away, and its absnce made me more capable of taking help, and of claiming power over my disorder. if i wasn't ashamed anymore of the problem, nothing was stopping me from moving towards a solution.
in our talks about it in the early days of the plan, mitchell told me what a brave choice he thought it was...and that made a tremendous impact on the way i felt about it. being able to frame it as something brave and strong made me feel so good, and made me excited about the choice. he even felt inspired by me enough to start his own workout regimen and get healthy, and he now looks incredible, feels like a different person and is in a totally healthy weight range for his height. amazing.
as i got educated, i also learned that many of the people who are candidates for surgery have my background - many of them have lost a ton of weight at some point and gained it back, and then some. i realized that one of the things that made me feel like i didn't need the surgery was actually a sign that i did - a large, unmaintained weight loss is just part of the profile. well-meaning friends had always stressed how i had done it before and how i shouldn't deny myself credit for that accomplishment, but i have always felt that the true accomplishment of weight loss is keeping it off.
when i ultimately decided that i knew this was for me was when i realized that so much of my pride about doing it on my own was coming from the fact that i always need to feel like the best at everything i do, and accepting help in this way was to me, a failure. but i started to realize that that need of mine - to excel, to be number one, to be perfect - was an overcompensation for my feelings about my weight. it was like i was already using up the one flaw i was allowed, so i had to make up for it and be amazing every second of every day.
but when i began to think of the profound ways in which my life could change - really change, not just if-i-lose-the-weight-one-day change, but for real - i had a true moment of realization - i don't need to be the one in a million person who beats the odds and loses more than half my weight without surgery. i don't need that. what i do need to be is healthy and happy and strong. i need to have a family, and be healthy and able to raise children and be around for them when they're my age and older. i don't need to be an overachiever in this way - i can just be myself, someone who struggles, who has struggled for a very long time and wants to stop struggling so hard.
