I know I haven’t been blogging much lately. I’m sorry. Thank you for your emails and phone calls. I promise you, I’m not sitting in a ditch somewhere binge-eating bags of peanut butter and chocolate, tipping the scale again at 300+ pounds.
Here is a recent photograph of me, having lost 100+ pounds, and loving my life. I mean loving it. Look at me. A year ago I would have photo-shopped out the big arms. And the back fat. But again, I’m not the same person I was a year ago. I’m finally me. The realest me I’ve ever been.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am totally lost.
I am just lost in complete happiness and peace.
I haven’t felt comfortable writing about it. Still don’t. Because such a huge part of it involves someone else, and I respect him and his privacy. But after my conversation with him last night, I think I can write freely. At least I hope I can.
It is the story of My Friend.
He looks like a big, tough guy. But he treats people with such warmth and kindness. My sister calls him The Gentle Giant. He is so endearing to me. So much so that I have been totally honest with him. Yesterday I even told him about his presence on my blog.
Gulp.
So herein lies the story:
I met this man last fall, when in a show of excellent timing, the universe sent me a hunky stranger to distract me from the horseshit going on in my life. I loved watching him. He was so quiet. And wonderfully kind. With a childlike quality that just made me want to tackle him and tickle fight til we puked. But the more I watched him, I realized the pool ran so much deeper.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.
I tried talking with him. But I said the stupidest things. I tried inviting him to coffee. I nearly swallowed my tongue. I turned into the filling station behind him one time when I didn’t even need gas. (remember?) I made excuses to walk by him, but then was too chicken to speak to him. I tried looking hot and reeling him in that way. I just ended up attracting the attention of a dozen other men that I still can’t get rid of. But the one thing I never did was just come out and ask him to spend time with me. So on my birthday, a couple of my girlfriends took charge, approached him, and gave him my phone number. (Ugh, please don’t everrrrrrrrrrrrrrr do this to your girlfriends.) And even though he was totally turned off by that, he decided to talk to me anyway.
That was a great month for me, as far as weight loss goes. I lost 12 pounds in that 31 days. Initially I thought he was interested in dating me, but we kept making plans that somehow just never came to fruition.
And of course you already know where I put the blame.
My weight.
And my lifelong inability to just be accepted and dated by someone I actually find worthy of my heart. And once again, I stepped right back in and perpetuated the same pattern I’ve been spiraling in my entire life. Self-loathing based on a man’s undesirable reaction to my affections.
I spent most of April in that cloud of self-loathing. I tried to cover it up. I hid it from most. But the one person I can never hide this stuff from is myself. Regardless of the new sassy facade, the positive lease on life, and sarcastic wit I use as a defense mechanism, every single day, there it was staring at me in the mirror.
My weight.
Your Friend isn’t interested in you because you’re a cow.
You ain’t havin’ sex in that body with noooooooooobody.
You can’t wear that sleeveless shirt in public.
Then one night in early May, through a random series of events, My Friend and I were talking about my weight loss journey. He asked what my motivation was for losing weight. And we proceeded to have a 2 hour conversation. I told him about my struggles with my weight, and I mean really talked about the crappy stuff like the 3am progressive fast food eating. (And the way I continuously kicked the crap out of myself for it.) What ensued was a very honest and intimate conversation.
And for the first time in my life, I was spiritually naked and completely unashamed.
It was then I realized. I trust this man fully. And while I am longing for physical intimacy, I’m not ready for it. What I’m longing for and really need right now is a great friend. Someone I can trust completely. My Friend is that man.
So, I decided that it was more important for me to know this man for the rest of my life, than to be the woman he hit it with for a summer. This has turned out to be one of my more brilliant moves. Because now, I don’t second guess what he’s thinking. Most of the time, I really know. If I want to call him, or text him, or talk to him, I do. And for the first time, I have truly just been myself. If I don’t hear from him, I don’t wig out. I haven’t been manipulative, or cunning, or trying to spin every situation into my favor. I don’t drive by his house at 1am, or spray my perfume on his jacket when he’s not looking, or lie about the things I’m really thinking. This is the first time I have ever been completely real with a man.
And for the first time, I’m making progress. With me.
He doesn’t let me get away with my lame excuses. He knows I am scared to death to come out of this fat suit. But that’s the very reason I have to. He’s teaching me how to stand up for myself. That I don’t have to be scared of men who are rapists in the making sexually aggressive. That I have courage, and beauty, and worth right now, and that’s what this fight is for.
I am a strong, beautiful, passionate woman.
I am losing this weight because it shields me from the intimacy that scares me so much. And I want to finally have that.
I never deserved to be cheated on, stolen from, lied to, abused, or raped.
Thank you God for the simple blessing of a wonderfully kind man with no agenda.
Lauryn Hill wrote a song back in the day called “Reciprocity.” The first line of the song says, “It could all be so simple, but you’d rather make it hard.” For the first time ever, I know exactly what she was talking about.
This is the most simple relationship I’ve ever been in. It has worked wonders for my confidence.
And for my soul.
