Tiny Tummy: Year 1

So it's been just a few days since my Tiny Tummy and I celebrated our one year anniversary. Weight-wise, I'm down 80 pounds total - the majority of the weight lost in the first half of the year post-surgery. Truth is, based upon how quickly the weight dropped at first, I had fully anticipated that I would celebrate one year at my goal weight. Alas, I'm just a little over half way there with at least 50 pounds to go, if not 75 as the doctor has ordered.

It shocks a lot of people when they ask if I'm at goal weight and I tell them I'm only about halfway there. No one, including me, can imagine what a 175 - or 150 - pound me will look like. I am, however, fairly certain that the mystery will be revealed by this time next year.

As my one year "surgerversy" neared, I started to feel like a bit (or a lot) of a failure. When I had gastric bypass surgery I had fully planned on staying the course, never straying, until I met my goal weight. I am dreading my one year checkup with the surgeon next week knowing full well that the weight loss could have been greater. It doesn't help that the baratric Facebook group I'm a member of is full of posts from women who have lost 100 pounds in, like, a week. I suspect that's not normal - that the biggest losers are the only ones who ever publicly share online. 

So there's been a lot of internal dialogue lately about how change really works - never linear, stalls and re-starts, backwards and forwards. More so, even, about what success really is - a number on a scale or something else?

The absolute truth is, regardless of the number on the scale, this last year has been a huge success. Or as my least favorite orange villain would say, HUGE.

The first victory was deciding to, and having, the surgery itself. I had considered it and researched it for three years before actually doing it. For years I shamed myself into not having the surgery... I should be able to do it without surgery. I should have the willpower to just lose weight. I should have never gotten to 300 pounds plus in the first place. I should be ashamed that I needed help. I should not take the "easy way out." Then I decided to stop "shoulding" all over myself. I decided, instead, I deserved to be well and I was not ashamed to get help because I deserved a healthier, longer life.

Victory.

Within hours of surgery I was up and walking - usually two or three times the required amount. I haven't stopped walking since. I walked every day after surgery, even if it was just around the interior of the house. I walked every day during my vacation just a month after surgery. I walked nine miles in one day in the 100+ degree heat in Las Vegas. I walked at lunch during work. I walked on the treadmill until I could jog. My standard parking spot at the grocery store is now the one furthest away from the door... always.

Victory.

Within one day I was publicly sharing the Tiny Tummy story on Facebook because I was no longer ashamed. When the surgeon recommended that I not share my story publicly, I laughed at him. He knows this space well, but I know my purpose better.

Victory.

Within three days I was off of medicine for diabetes. Within two weeks it was determined that I no longer had diabetes. New studies are starting to suggest that weight loss surgery may cure diabetes. I am telling you, in no uncertain terms, it did.

Victory.

Within a week I had a huge fight with my husband and discovered that none of my old crutches were available to me to avoid the pain. I couldn't eat, drink, smoke or leave the house. I was trapped and I just had to sit there and feel my feelings.

Victory.

Within two months I had to run out to a mall after class one day to buy new jeans because the old ones weren't even remotely passable anymore. I was thrilled to get into a size 22 that day. Last Saturday I bought size 16 jeans. Pre-surgey I was wearing a size 26.

Victory.

Within four months I officiated a friend's wedding. I would have done it anyway, but I was able to do so without being the least bit concerned about how I looked/felt and instead could focus my attention on the couple I was marrying.

Victory.

Within eight months I was inviting a single woman to share a dinner table with me and my husband on our Aruba vacation because I saw her as a person in need of connection and not competition.

Victory.

Within nine months I was tackling childhood issues in therapy that I had ignored for almost forty years because I decided that I was done suffering.

Victory.

Within ten months I had signed up for an unlimited class package at a local yoga studio because I was no longer afraid to be imperfect in public. Two months later I have yet to open my eyes in yoga class because I have no need to compare my beginning to anyone else's middle or end. The darkness and the silence has enabled me to connect with my body - a completely separate entity from "me" pre-surgery.

Victory.

Within twelve months I was finishing my last week of grad school, committed to being a learner and not an achiever. I am no longer a performer in my own life, but rather an explorer.

Victory.

So, not all the pounds came off this year - but the shame and fear and need to compare myself to others has. And that means so much more to me than anything that can be measured on a scale. I am also convinced that, after a nearly five month plateau, the scale is going to start to move again (it actually already has) - if for no other reason than the weight of the world I created pre-surgery is starting to lift off my shoulders.

So, year one? Total victory. HUGE.