I understand how people could become "addicted" to plastic surgery. Once you "fix" one thing, then another "flaw" rises to prominence and you feel the need to "fix" that as well. My surgeon asked me a lot of "Hmmm...are you a psycho?" type questions when I had my consult. You know the type...do you have realistic expectations, are you seeking a result that is physically impossible, that kind of thing.
I can assure you that I am done having procedures (barring some kind of disfiguring accident). I also realized that having this surgery has removed a nagging shadow from my mind. I didn't think my saggy belly was so present in my psyche, that I thought about it as much as I did...until I didn't. Sure, I think about my incision and keeping it clean and protected, but I don't think about my appearance related to it anymore.
The change is really amazing. My stupid belly isn't the first place my eyes go when I step out of the shower anymore. It isn't the first thing I think about when I'm getting dressed in the morning and the last thing I think about when I crawl into bed at night. That's a hell of a thing. Even when I stand and just let my belly "hang out" (not that I do that...every former fat girl knows you ALWAYS hold in your belly) it doesn't really "hang" anymore.
I'm really looking forward to this positive change in relation to my running self. There were days that I would put on and pull off three or four shirts because the way the waistband of my skirt hit made me look like I had front butt (you know, that saggy pooch that women get that looks like an ass on the front side) and a jelly roll above the band. Or it made my belly look like it stuck out farther than my boobs (wait...I guess it looked like that becuse it did that), or it was tight accross my squishy belly and loose over my chest (that is a HOT look, btw). No one should feel like a big fat freak before going out and running in public. That is not the way to build confidence. Add a Fuel Belt to that picture? Now we're talking sexy. I am so looking forward to the day when I can just pull on any old thing and go run. What an incredibly freeing moment that will be. Three weeks and counting!
So one of these days I will stop whining about myself and my psychological issues and talk about my kids more :) Here is a Lilyism to start us off:
Dear Husband: This is an orangutan, can you say "orangutan"?