Yesterday, Today & Resolve

Yesterday was a good day. I ate my crappy liquid meals at all the right times and rested and felt well. This morning I got up, feeling physically the best I have felt since surgery and took a shower, cleaned my car and grabbed some groceries. Yep it was a good day. Until dinnertime.

My husband volunteered to make dinner for himself and the kids and pulled out a griddle, cooking up juicy hamburgers with plenty of melted cheese. I had told him right before surgery that he didn't have to worry about making yummy food around me....I would be fine. But tonight I wasn't fine.

I made two different concoctions in my mini blender in a search for something high in protein and remotely palatable. Both versions were flushed down the sink while I lamented wasting food and protein powder. I tried again and finally settled on a oddly textured smoothie with greek yogurt, skim milk and fresh fruit. I sat at the table and watched my family load burgers with juicy toppings and tasty condiments and I began to feel it. The call of food. The call of good food that sits in your stomach and makes you feel full. Food that you chew.

I finally said aloud, "What's SO wrong with being fat? Is it really that big of a deal?" the end of this statement was choked in tears.

There was no response. I didn't need one. I wondered for the first time this week if I made a horrid mistake and, more eerily, if I could un-do this procedure. I finished my shake and left the table.

I determined to find some insight. I turned to my Kindle, on which I had loaded 3 or 4 highly rated books on Weight Loss Surgery the previous month. After looking at the titles I decided on a book written by a Psychologist (obese herself) about her lifelong battle with food. And there it was, in the first or second chapter.

She explores what is truly at the source of our joy and happiness in life. The answer? Relationships.

And it brought me back to the memory of one of the reasons why I went into surgery to get my stomach cut up and re-sewn. My family. My kids. My friendships.

I have been overweight since childhood, but it was an overweight I could handle. Chubby. I was fine with that. I never had an eating disorder or hid in my room because of my weight. Until now. Now my weight is serious. Morbidly Obese. And I am ashamed. I don't want to sit too close to people because what if that made them feel uncomfortable? I don't want to befriend others when they move into my area because, if they're thin, they probably won't want to be friends with me. I don't want to be a Room Mom at my kids' school because what if the other kids teased them because their mom is fat?

In the past year, for the first time in my life, my weight is effecting my relationships on every level. When my kids want me to play with them at the park I sit on the sidelines. When my husband says I am beautiful I don't believe him. When new friendships might be made I shy away because of my weight.

Is FOOD more important than PEOPLE? It's so simple. So easy to answer. No.

Food is supposed to nourish my body.
Not be my best friend.
Or therapist.
Or comforter.
Or boredom reliever.
Or bad-day fixer.

Food is supposed to nourish my body.
Relationships are supposed to nourish my soul.

I will keep repeating this in the coming week as I choke down more grainy, protein-tasting liquids.