When I was 10 years old, my mother told me we needed to have a talk. This was one of many of those mother/daughter talks at that age, but this one was different. It was summer, and I sat on the cold, tiled counter of our kitchen, watching Mom unload groceries as she talked. I was wearing a little flowered dress I loved. She explained to me that I needed to start watching my weight and that she had gotten groceries to help me with that. She had things like canned fruit and such, but I mainly remember that she produced a large bottle of Tab, telling me that I needed to drink that instead of Coke or Dr. Pepper. I don't think I've had a regular drink in 50 years now. The whole conversation left me feeling sad, scared, and disappointed in myself. Mom's sister, my wonderful Aunt Pat, always struggled with weight issues, as did my dad, and she didn't want me to head down that path as well. Looking back on it, that day has played in my head on a constant repeat. Sometimes I'm aware of it, sometimes not, but I've heard it almost every time I've eaten. At that time, in the early 1970s, the goal was to just be skinny, not fit, toned, or anything like that. Just skinny. With a body shape identical to my dad, from the chins to the square body, to the knock knees, I was never going to be skinny, not at 10 and not at nearly 60. I know Mom wasn't trying to hurt my feelings or establish a lifelong devastating self-image, but it happened anyway.
This was the little dress I was wearing that day.
This isn't a long sob story about feeling fat and unattractive all my life, although I generally did. There were only a couple of periods when I felt attractive and desirable, and they have been few and far between. Like many girls, teenagers, and young women, I felt like I was the "other" one who had a lot of better looking friends. They were the popular ones, the cheerleaders, the ones who always had a date. I dated a few people in my younger days, but only a few. Although frustrating and sometimes really lonely, I chalked it up to being the "other" type of girl who was great as a friend to guys, but not one they found attractive and date material. Yes, it did have an impact on my self-image for decades later, but I grew to accept it. In college I was a little sister in a fraternity. Lots of amazing guys who are still wonderful friends, but while many of my sisters were exploring their new found freedom, I wasn't one of the objects of attraction to the guys. Again, not wanting to give a sob story I know I share with many women, but it's important to understand where I was and where I am now. Recently, I found a few pictures of myself from when I first went to college and was moving into my dorm room. When I look at myself in those pictures, I wish I was still that "fat" and "unattractive." I really wasn't that bad! I wish I could have seen that at the time.
Notice that we didn't have fancy decorated dorm rooms back then.
So, life went on. College, teaching, graduate school, and then marriage. Graduate school, in my mid to late 20s was really my prime, and the only time that I managed to turn off the tapes in my head. I can honestly say that I not only felt good, but looked good at that point in my life. I thought, "I've beat the family curse!" Relationships were great and I had so much confidence. That period of life proved to be somewhat short-lived. I got married and had kids. My body has never been the same again! Add to that several surgeries and decades of massive cortisol inducing stress, and my body became something that wasn't just unattractive, but also something that was all but completely coming unglued and a burden. So many times I thought it just simply wasn't going to make it anymore . . . but it did.
Here's where the whining stops, and the gratitude begins.
I will be turning 60 next year and I look back on all that wasted time, since the age of 10. The last year has been a physically tough year in many ways, but especially as I faced pancreatic cancer. I was so fortunate to have the neuroendocrine form, not the fast spreading form, and as I am currently cancer free, the events of the past year have helped me see things differently. I am now, quite honestly, amazed by this body of mine! It has been through the wringer over the last 30 years, and it's still ticking. I look at all the scars from my breasts to my pelvis, and instead of connecting the dots, it's more like connect the lines, but it's still working. I have a 6 inch scar from my gall bladder removal, scars around both breasts from a breast reduction, the bellybutton down scar from the C-section when Asa was born, a parallel bellybutton down scar from removing a grapefruit sized tumor in my right ovary, three holes from the rare (for me) laparoscopic hysterectomy, a 4 inch diameter (looks like a division sign) scar on the left of my abdomen from removing the pancreas tail, 28 lymph nodes, and my spleen, and finally a few more holes from removing the left ovary. Scars all over the place!
In addition to all the surgeries, this body of mine has grown and given birth to two children! Pregnancy was great and I marveled at the ability to grow another human. The first delivery was very difficult and nearly killed me by hemorrhaging to the point where my blood pressure dropped to 60/40. I had a couple of transfusions and even hemorrhaged again before it began to repair itself. The second delivery caused the big c-section scar because he was sideways and not turning. Those muscles have never fully repaired, but it got better. Around the time I turned 40, I had a silent heart attack which damaged my heart. That too has actually repaired itself now. I have pumped cortisol like Spindletop, but I am better now. So, two kids, a total of 11 surgeries, a heart attack, massive stress for a prolonged period, cancer, and a history of growing things in my internal organs and removing said organs to the point that the appendix is my only spare part . . . but my body is still here, fighting, and better than it's been in years!
Since the cancer surgeries, I've felt better than I have in years and feel younger too. I am impressed with what all I'm able to do with it now! Somehow, this body of mine keeps repairing itself and giving me another go. I am grateful for that because I have so much still to do with it. Is this body of mine attractive now? I can't say yes, because remnants of those old tapes still play in my head sometimes, but more importantly, I don't really care anymore. I have no desire to be "skinny" like in the old days. What I do have is a desire to be active and feel good. I'll never be what I spent most of my life thinking I ought to be, but I'm good, and this body of mine is stronger than I knew it could be. I accept that I have my father's figure. That won't change, but who cares? It has overcome many things, but it's better than ever. and I have finally reached a point in life where I can be satisfied by just appreciating that. Yes, I'm still overweight and have an inner tube mid-section, but who cares? I'm finally so grateful for what this body of mine has given me . . . life.
