Tag Archives: love

A Simple & Good Man: 5th Would-Be Wedding Anniversary

March 18, 2017 Jessica 2 Comments

“A widow doesn’t move on; she moves forward”. I read that on a blog that I follow. I can’t agree with it more.

My brother and I had a long conversation on Monday. He talked about 2010 when he lived with me. It was a tough time in his life as he was having some mental health issues. This happened at the same time that Paul and I’s relationship began. He told me about a couple talks that Paul and him had had together. He told me of a conversation from 2014…the last year Paul was alive and the year that my brother began to finally be on the mend. Paul had told him that he has finally gotten to “know the brother that Jessica told me about” because all those years ago, I told Paul over and over “this isn’t my brother. This is an impostor” when my brother was going through the most challenging times of his life. He told me that Paul told him that he was his brother. Jon told me about how much Paul’s words meant to him because to him he was like our Papa (who passed in 2009)–“he was a simple and good man. A man a few words”. Our Papa was my brother’s role model and he loved him dearly as did I so this was a great compliment and it made me weep.

My brother went on to ask me if I had any animosity towards him for the terrible things that he had done in the past. I quickly replied ‘no’ and he insisted that I be honest. I went on to elaborate on how I feel about the whole situation. I love my brother. We have a very special relationship. And I hold nothing against him for what he did when he wasn’t in his right mind. And how Paul reacted to the situation with my brother made me fall even more in love with him. He was the calm and the rock in my life. Even though he didn’t understand, he was tolerant and didn’t judge. So I don’t feel that my brother took anything away from our relationship–on the contrary, what was going on at the time acted as a catalyst in our relationship. It sped it along even more so–in hindsight, this was a good thing given that we would only have a handful of years together.

A co-worker of mine that has become a friend over the last year or so had tears in her eyes when I told her about what my brother had said about Paul. She went on to tell me how incredibly strong I am; that I’ve been through so much and yet I’m an accomplished and a sweet person.

I’ve thought on this. In the moment, I was taken aback. I’ve heard these words before from various people; especially since Paul has passed. I never know what to say or how to feel. I don’t really think of myself as any sort of extraordinary or a particularly strong person. I don’t think of myself as courageous. What I do think of myself is that I’m a person of perseverance. I’d like to say (and probably have said) that I take my life a day at a time but anyone who knows me knows that that isn’t exactly true. I don’t really like to leave things to chance and spontaneity gives me anxiety. I’m very much a planner. I like to, or rather have a habit of, obsessing about what I want to do, what I need to do and how I will accomplish that goal to my most perfect outcome. Although over the years, I’ve definitely learned that life isn’t quite that simple. Since Paul has passed, I’ve tried my best to incorporate a part of his soul into myself and into my every day life. I jump hurdles as they come and I try to enjoy my life each day.

It doesn’t do much good to be defeated. Actually it does you no good at all to be a defeatist. I have met these types and I’m related to these types. And I refuse to be a victim. Even in the face of tragedy, I refuse to be defeated. There’s something that you can take away from each and every situation that you come into contact with–I truly believe that. A few examples:

My dad disowned me several times: You have to accept people for who and what they are. You can’t hang your hopes on what you think a person should or could be. You should always ‘consider the source’ when you are met with statements that are crushing.

I was sexually abused: I have been able to achieve forgiveness and to let bitterness go.

My high school bf broke my heart: The value of family was reinforced when my brother drove to see me every day after work for a long while. I learned that heated words and passion do not equate love like it does in the movies.

My relationship after that: It is sometimes better to be alone. In fact, it’s absolutely necessary to have solitude; to discover who you are separate from another human being. You should always follow your instincts. And if your family does not like your partner, you should heed that as a huge warning.

My brother had a emotional breakdown in my home; We almost lost him: Each person is definitely fighting a battle that you have no clue about. What it looks like to you and what it truly is are two very different things. Sometimes it takes a lot of time, patience, therapy and relapses before you can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I love my brother more than words could ever express and hold no ill feeling towards him.

I was paralyzed by this obscene amount of weight that I’d accumulated over a lifetime: The lessons learned here are never ending. You are worth so much more than you give yourself credit for. It isn’t selfish to put your needs before the needs/wants of others. You deserve to be healthy. Being fat is hard. I deserve to live a life that I’m proud of. Fucking dance even though you look ridiculous.

The man that changed it all for me died on the night of my gastric bypass surgery: Again, so many things. To experience true love, no matter the length of time, is priceless. Terrible things happen for absolutely no reason. You are capable of anything. The bitter makes the sweet sweeter. Love as though you’ve never experienced pain. Say what you mean; mean what you say. True colors are shown amidst the times of tragedy.

My BFF of over 20 years quit me: The loss of a true friendship is just as painful as the death of your husband. People experience grief in their own manner. You can’t make someone love you. I deserve to have a friendship that does not make me question my worth. Just because a friendship ends doesn’t mean that the friendship didn’t happen; it had a purpose.

Skin removal surgery: They say your body is your temple; well you feel free to jazz that temple up. I’ve worked very hard to lose over 180 lbs and I have no guilt over the vanity that is perceived in me having my skin taken off. I fucking love not feeling the need to HAVE TO HAVE a bra on at all times. Working towards having an equilibrium between the inside and outside.

Well I surely went off on a tangent there…ultimately to come to this: Life is what you make it. I’m always working towards making mine great.

Today was our Would-Be 5th anniversary. This one was a hard one; what the hell am I saying? They all are hard ones. Paul and I dreamed together out loud. It is something that I loved about our relationship. And our 5th wedding anniversary was going to be epic. We were going to go to Ireland–after all, we were married on St. Patrick’s Day.

Last night I couldn’t sleep. I was too much in my own mind. I ended up dragging my wedding gown out. At first I just opened the bag and looked upon it but then I wanted to wear it. I decided I was going to take a picture with Paul. I put the dress on…I didn’t even have to unzip what used to be a fitted bodice. Even though I had to hold it up, I still felt like a beautiful cake topper. I thought about how I happened upon my $1800 valued ‘Craigslist Killer Dress” that I paid $300 for (including the can-can, a bustier and a black dress).

We made a Wedding Ceremony Wine Box. Inside this box was our favorite bottle of wine (Tres Suenos Anniversary Red), 2 wine glasses and letters to one another. My sister decorated the inside of the box with childhood pictures of us, our Save-the Date card and a picture of my grandparents on their wedding day. My friend and our Officiant said beautiful words about the box on our wedding day. In the letters, we told one another why we were marrying them. If ever there came a time that it all became too much and we thought we may separate, we would open the box, drink the wine and read the letters. If that time didn’t come then on our 5th wedding anniversary, we would open the box and enjoy the wine and letters together. {We wrote letters to one another on our first anniversary and I wrote one on our second. But he never did.}

Today I went to the lake where we were married. I opened the box in the very spot where we closed it together 5 years before. The wind was blowing intensely just as it had on our wedding day. The water wasn’t as high as it was 5 years ago but I could still hear the sounds of the lake as I sat reading the letters and sipping the red wine. My letters were all several pages; his several sentences. I cried as I read the line “I love you more than you will ever know!!!!” and “I’ll continue to give you all that I have”. I held the letter to my chest, took a deep breath and felt the tears land on my fingers. In my letter, I talked about all the things that I adored about him and the things that were going on in our lives and about the things I was most proud of at the time. I stood in the same spot that I stood 5 years ago and I listened to Train’s “Marry Me” which was the song that I was supposed to walk down the aisle to but Paul forgot the stereo. Then I closed my eyes as I listened to Blake Shelton’s “God Gave Me You” which was the song that played during our first dance.

After that, I packed it all up and met up with one of my girlfriends for pedis and lunch. She was frustrated as she told me that her husband and her had just gotten into a full on argument. I thought to myself “I wish I could fight with Paul about money”. I listened to her intently as she told me about their spat. Paul and I had had these types of quarrels as well. And I acted much as she did in this situation so I absolutely knew where she was coming from. My unsolicited advice that I gave to her was that there was a compromise in there. There isn’t sense in being so strict with finances that it makes you unhappy even if the end result of financial independence is within arm’s reach because…tomorrow is not promised.

I’ve said many times that I don’t have too many regrets about my life with Paul but the one that I do have is in regards to my rigidness. I wish I had been softer with our finances and allowed for more spontaneity in our everyday lives. I do that now as a result. Life is meant to be lived. Everything in life is about balance. When you find that balance you find harmony and with harmony, you find happiness. That’s what it is all about.

Tonight I had planned to have pizza and drinks with Lisa and our friends but I cancelled. As much as I wanted to be this rock of stability…the poster child of triumph over grief…I wasn’t. What have I done? I’ve put on Paul’s shirt, the necklace that has the 2 pendants that he gave me over the years and his wedding band, my wedding set and bands. I’ve sat on the couch and wandered in and out of thought. I’ve cried a lot. I’ve used my yoga breathing to try to find my center. But mostly, I’ve just thought on how much I miss that goofy guy. I thought about how much I wish he was here. I’ve thought about how much it hurts and how the pain has not seemed to change in these types of moments.

Please hug your loved ones extra tight tonight. Tell them you love them and mean it. Think beyond your own selfish wants and needs. Think more on the needs of your partner. Find balance in meeting their needs and satisfying your own. But, above all, make this day count.

Love,

Jess

Coping with Stress; Bikini Ready.

March 6, 2017 Jessica 3 Comments

How do you deal with stress? Are you a stress eater? Take it out on the gym? Lash out at loved ones? How do you cope?

My go to has always been food. I could always ‘solve’ any emotion with a full belly. I found in comfort in the satiation feeling after a sugary treat or every greasy thing off of the Taco Bell menu.

These days it is a little different. If you follow me on Facebook or IG, you have probably seen my healthiest and newest outlet: exercise. In my vision of the healthiest person inside and out is a person who doesn’t abuse themselves with substances (i.e. fast food, alcohol, smoking, etc.) and who channels their frustrations into healthier avenues.

Lately my world is just like yours. Not the picture that you see on social media. I try my very best not to air all of my laundry there. In recent weeks some stressors that I’ve been enduring are that I’ve started a new semester of classes to finish out my BSN, working out almost daily, struggles with processes/politics at works and the biggest one, my siblings and I have taken over the healthcare of my father. I won’t weigh this post down with the ins and outs of this process but it has become a day in and out stress. To say that I’m experiencing caregiver fatigue is a gross understatement.

The always there stress of grief is a constant in my life but with everything else that has been going on I’ve been pushing it to the back. I tell myself I’ll think of it later. I’ve purposely been pushing thoughts of Paul and our upcoming would-be 5th wedding anniversary to the back of my mind; refusing to deal with it for lack of time. How crazy is that? Like it is like in my mind that I can compartmentalize this kind thing, stick it on a to-do list and get to it when I have the time. It has worked oh…not too badly until yesterday. Yesterday it hit me. All at once. BOOM! On a day that was already rationed to be a 100% study day, I spent the better part of the day in full effect, ugly tears that demanded vocalization. You know what I’m talking about. I cried so hard that I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t focus. And all I could think on was him and how cruel life is. I reached out to my friends for support. They were helpful. I ended my night with a pup taking up 3/4 of my bed and a tear stained pillow.

Anyways…I digress…

Exercise has been a good outlet for me these last 8 weeks. It has given me something to focus on that isn’t for anyone but myself. I’m a goal oriented person. I enjoy having a list and checking things off. And so January 4th after I was cleared for activity, I set to complete 6 Week Abs with Jillian Micheals and Couch-2-5K. I’ve been the most consistent and compliant that I have ever been since beginning this journey in May 2014. I’ve taken progress pictures everyday because I’m a firm believer in them; although, I’m sure that some people are really tired of seeing this bellah! I’m trying to transition from being scale focused to focusing on my overall health and the way that I feel. My body just doesn’t want to let go and get under 153 (which is my lightest so far) and she feels most comfortable at 155. I have always had the goal of getting to 149 so that I wouldn’t be classified as over weight but let’s face it…I love tacos, alcohol and chocolate too much! What is life if I had to give it all up? A life of protein and veggies only is a bland life and I’m nothing of the sort. I calculated my body fat percentage which was somewhere around 27-28%. That’s average not overweight so bam! This is the healthiest that I have ever felt in my life.

I’m now trying my best to focus on some self love. To not be so rigid in my activities and goals but to just let it be. I started doing yoga on most mornings and I love it. It is so relaxing. And tomorrow I will be exchanging my Jillian 6 Week Abs for Jillian’s Bun Burner. I’ll be working on that a few times a week and continuing with my C25K–trying to improve my stamina/endurance.

So are we ready for some pictures? {FYI…there’s not a difference in weight in these pictures!!}

I’m comfortably fitting in a range of sizes. lol. The vanity sizing in America is rather comical. I’m anywhere from a 6 to a 8 depending. These thick thighs are usually the determining factor though. But I’d be lying if I told you that it didn’t make me giddy to buy a pair of size 6 jeans that didn’t require aerobics to get into and that lack a muffin top

20170217_115515 — Rue 21 junior size 7/8

20170217_115550 — No muffin top; not ‘sucking it in’ (Feb 2017)

20170209_174139 — Size 6 with some room (Feb 2017)

Abdominoplasty Post Op 4 Months

I’m healing very well from surgery. I couldn’t be more pleased with my results. I can’t even explain how wonderful it feels to not have that pannus anymore. I hate running but I love that when I run that there isn’t the sound or feel of my stomach slapping my thighs. I love that I am no longer self conscious about the way my body looks. I’m so proud of what I have accomplished and continue to accomplish. I’m looking forward to summer for the first time in my entire life because I can actually wear a suit without fear of my belly plopping out.

Below, the green shorts, are my “surgery goal shorts”. They are a size 4 and I couldn’t begin to button them prior to surgery. Now it is time for before and after over load!

Above all, love yourself. You deserve to be happy. Without it, what is life? Live this day. Love this day. Thanks for all of your support.

Love,

Jess

Give Up Perfection: Some Tips for Success

August 16, 2016 Jessica Leave a comment

13938224_10153588700901396_4747440746676883377_o — I was cleaning out for a garage sale and came across my ‘fat pants’. I can literally fit in one leg of these pants!!! Size 26/28 vs size 8

Perfection. Is there such a thing? Can a person be perfect? The answer is no. So why do we constantly set goals for perfection? As women in American culture, this is ingrained from an early age. We tend to think in absolutes. Being good; being bad. On the wagon; off the wagon. Success; failure. I’m on my own journey to try to reprogram myself and I hope to inspire others to reprogram as well.

I’ve had a few very frank conversations with women who are struggling with their weight, body image issues and/or have had weight loss surgery. I’m always delighted when someone seeks me for advice and inspiration. It’s humbling and fulfilling. The thought process that is echoed in every conversation is perfection. “I was bad” “I need to get it together” “I’ll be happier if I could just get to such&such weight”. But ladies, this is what we have to work towards changing.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am 100% guilty of all of the above. I have made all of these statements. I can’t recall if I’ve shared this with y’all before but one of the most eye opening conversations that I had was recently with a friend. We were talking about weight loss goals. I had mentioned that a co-worker had an ‘ideal figure’ and eluded that I’d be ‘happy’ if I could look that way. We called her over and asked her to share her height and weight. I am literally the SAME height. I weigh within 2 lbs of her and I wear the same size jeans. What the hell? So I had created this image of what I was trying to attain and I couldn’t even really see my own success. That was an eye opener for me.

The above interaction made me really think. I’ve always joked that I’m a perfectionist. I am in some sorts and it fares me well in my work and such things. But it doesn’t fare me well for my health, body image and overall happiness.

A friend recently was venting to me about her dissatisfaction with her weight loss. She had told me her weight loss and it was truly amazing and something to be proud of in my eyes. I inquired as to why she was dissatisfied. Her response was that ‘others were losing more than her’ and that she ‘hadn’t been as good as she could be’. And here lies the pitfall.

I’ve been here; I’m still here as a working progress. We should not compare our success to others. There will always be someone who surpasses you; there will always be someone who trails you. You have to place SUCCESS where it needs to be. You have to define it by your own standards; not by the success/failure of others. If we constantly are reaching for perfection as we see it on someone else or a perfection/success we have created, we will ALWAYS fall short. Every. Time.

How many times have you ‘fallen off the wagon’? I know I have probably a thousand times. This wagon puts us in this constant cycle–up down up down. Yo-Yo. And each time you have a down, you beat yourself up. We all do this in different ways but I guarantee that if you struggle with your weight like I have that you are NOT kind to yourself. You tell yourself all kinds of negative things and this just adds to the cycle.

I can remember so many diets. It seems I’ve been on a diet for forever. My weight has literally been on my mind from wake to sleep since I was probably about 12 years old. I’d get these plans in my mind about how I was going to get back on track TOMORROW. I was going to eat right, exercise hard core, no junk food. Tomorrow would come, maybe I’d eat really good all day and then night fall would come and I would binge. Then I’d feel awful. I’d beat myself up and label myself as a failure. THEN I’d eat even worse because now I was off my diet. And so the crazy cycle continued. Continued right on up to 341 lbs.

How do we fix this? How do we fix ourselves? I say–be kind. Be kind to yourself. Ditch the diet. Forgive yourself. Find happiness outside of food. These are my tips for success.

Be Kind. Only say things to yourself that you would say to others. So many times I have looked at myself with disgust and mentally bashed myself. But I wouldn’t DARE say these things to another person. What I practice now is some self love. Even when I feel fat or bloated, I find something positive. That’s the day I’ll put a lil extra make up on. Something to help me feel ‘prettier’.

Ditch the diet. Do I mean pig out? Heck no. It’s all about balance. How did you get those extra pounds? You were out of balance. You have heard this time and time again: moderation is the key–you must make a lifestyle change. And it is 100% true. We all want a magic pill that allows us to get the model figure over night and allows us to eat whatever the fuck we want. But that’s not reality. Whatever you decide to do to get healthy or lose weight has to be something that you can do forever. Think of it this way, if you starve yourself for the next couple weeks and drop a few pounds…the weeks following you’re going to eat and gain it back. It’s just the way it works. Calories in/calories out. I could write a whole blog over nutrition but how boring is that? My best advice for nutrition–keep it simple. Eat whole foods. Eat less junk. And if you have the junk, make it small and make it infrequent.

Forgive Yourself. You better believe this is important. Don’t beat yourself up. What good will that do? Not a damn bit. Okay…so you ate a whole box of cookies. It happens. Let it go. If you can, think on why you did it. What were you feeling? But more importantly, think about how eating that box of cookies made you feel and commit that to memory then move on. That next meal, you own it. Don’t harp on the ‘I was so bad’ thing. That isn’t going to get you anywhere. I love my sweets and if/when I overindulge I think about it afterwards now. Like ‘damn. I just ate that whole bag of Milanos over the course of one day. Now my belly hurts. Why did I do that? I was bored. Dang I really don’t like how my body feels right now and those cookies aren’t helping me reach my goals.’ Then you know what I do? I move on. If there are cookies left, I pitch them. Yep. Throw it out. That’s what I do. The next meal/snack I try to eat towards my goal (or rather towards my why).

Find Happiness Outside of Food. This is the big one. Live your life. Find what really gives you joy and do it. Don’t wait until you’re the perfect size. The perfect weight. That day won’t ever come. We are imperfect people and we are constantly changing. Shit happens. Don’t wait to live you life based on what you think the future you should look like or weigh. Most of us women eat emotionally, bored-happy-sad-lonely-mad-etc. We have to find things/activities to fill these voids. Find your void filler. Also, find and surround yourself with people that bring the best of you out. The people that don’t make you question yourself. The people who inspire you. Those people are a crucial key to lasting success. You are who you surround yourself with. I truly believe that.

Yes, I had bariatric surgery to get my excess weight off but I did the work. I’ve changed my life but more importantly, I’ve changed my outlook on life. I don’t wait for later. I try to live in the now. I want to be the best me possible but I accept that the best me will not be perfect. I’m currently still working on all of these things. It’s a daily practice. It doesn’t come naturally. It’s something I have to work at. But I can tell you this…this me is the most fulfilled I’ve ever been and it feels amazing!

Go do something outside your comfort zone today. Get active. Live your life! Love you all,

13901324_317916195212778_8534277226022980231_n — Lisa makes me happy. She lifts me up. She helps inspire me to stay healthy.

13900309_10153583766866396_6996271175291281404_n — Vodka Trot 2016. Big first for me. I’ve never worn short shorts like this out in public because my legs are not ‘perfection’ but I did. And I had a blast and I wasn’t worried about what others thought of me!

13932895_317916145212783_758652884334594204_n — Lisa and her sister, Tasha, encouraged me to get up and dance with this small group of women at this big event. The old me would not have done this. It was so fun and freeing!

13924886_10153583763236396_7780097027453270584_n — Don’t be afraid to be silly. :)

A Precious Life: Live it. Love it.

June 30, 2016 Jessica 1 Comment

june2016(4) — Father’s Day 2016: Dad says to me ‘did they make a mistake and cut your boobs off?’ oh my.

How precious is this life? And how short is it? I’d venture to say that most of us would admit that life is undeniably precious and that the years pass by quickly. Yet how are we living it? Are we living it for the moment? Or are we wishing it away?

I’d say that for most all of my life, I have wished my life away. Not on purpose of course but, rather, by accident. I’ve hated my body, worried about finances, striven for stability and put off my life for the unforeseeable future that would, without a doubt, reflect my work—the perfect me in the perfect life. I’d be thin. I’d have no debt. I’d be in the perfect career. That’s when I’d live. Right? Wrong. Your life is what happens while you’re putting off for tomorrow. Paul changed my life in so many ways. And although I have few regrets, the one I do have is that I could have worried less and lived more. And in his death, I’ve found life and I have realized that this is my life and this is as good as it may ever be and damn it that’s pretty good. I’ve been listening to a lot of pod casts and reading up on self-love. I have done a lot of self-reflection. And what I’ve realized is that I haven’t always been good to myself. I haven’t loved myself. Over the course of the last 18 months, I’ve had quite a few life altering events take place that have led me to this new outlook on myself and my life. I can’t really pinpoint when or what actually did it; I think it’s just the collection of events.

june2016(3) — Moving my body! Mollie loves walks and I got this new leash that is hands free. It makes our walks much more enjoyable!

I want to worry less…less about what I think others think of me, less about what might happen, less about all those things and people I can’t control. I want to love myself and treat myself the right way…the way I’d treat others. What does this look like for me? As with anything in this life, you get what you give. Put good in; get good out. So I try to nourish my body with food that makes me feel good but not in the way it used to–not to feed my emotions but to literally nourish my body. I move—I have a non-negotiable with myself and that is that I move every day. I’m not an avid runner; I’m an avid couch potato. Ha ha. But I have realized that my body needs to move and when I move it, it responds by feeling good, losing/maintaining weight and increases my quality of life. I’m working on nourishing my mind and my soul. I’m doing this by ridding my life of negative people, negative attitudes and habits that perpetuate anxiety. I try to live out loud. I laugh frequently, help others on their journeys and try new things. I want to make sure that when my time comes that my life was lived and not just ‘survived’.

june2016(2) — It’s important to surround yourself with people that build you up and embody the life and spirit you want for your own. Lisa is one of those people to me. She makes this life fun, pushes me to be better and celebrates with me constantly.

june2016 — Loving myself. My legs have been a struggle for me but I’m embracing them by flaunting them and showing gratitude to them. For without these strong legs, I wouldn’t be able to be the active person that I’ve become.

Recently I ran into a former co-worker. A lady that amazes me. She has this amazing soul and an infectious smile. She’s a survivor. When she saw me, I recognized the stunned look. It’s the one I get from those who haven’t seen me in a while. I used to almost feel embarrassed not from shame but rather from the attention that my weight loss would draw. I don’t really feel that way anymore. I smile and I let them ‘ooo and ahh’. I frequently joke ‘I’ve lost a couple pounds huh?’. I take these interactions as a pat on the back and affirmation that I’ve made a positive improvement in my life. She shared with me something that truly made my heart smile. She told me that Paul’s death changed her life. That seeing the pictures that I post made her think about the lack of pictures that she has of herself. She went on to tell me about how she often takes pictures of her children but hides from the camera as she is not satisfied with her physical appearance. And she teared up as she told me that she thought about if she were to leave this Earth that her kids wouldn’t have photos of her. And so now she takes pictures frequently; when she sees me post one of Paul’s pictures that I share that she flips her phone and takes a picture with her kiddos. I was so very glad that she shared this with me. I’m even more thrilled that she seized the day and accepted where she is right now because this life is precious. It’s meant to be celebrated.

As some of you may remember in April, Waybetter.com published an article about me. Well, they reached out to me a few days ago stating “we are working on our weekly email and this week is our inspiration week. We wanted to use your story because it was so inspiring and touching. I was going through your blog and came across your amazing wedding photo’. Wow! I was shocked and in awe. Then the email went out and my friend tagged me on Facebook. The headline reads ‘A story to renew your faith in human resilience’ and below my wedding photo ‘love, loss and strength fuel this powerful story of one woman’s 150-lb weight loss’. It’s amazing to be recognized for my weight loss and I love that my story has gotten to reach who knows how many people.

How amazing is that? When I started this blog, I thought to myself if Paul’s death could just change one life…

And he has impacted so very many. It makes my heart and soul happy.

You can read the article at…

http://www.waybetter.com/WayBetterToday/waybettertoday/inspiration/how-i-overcame-worst-tragedy-imaginable-and-lost-150-pounds

weddinglaugh — The wedding photo that the writer from WayBetter.com stumbled upon. Truly one of my favorite pictures from that amazing day. The really sums up our relationship…he always kept me laughing :)

That’s all for now. Show yourself some love. Give your body gratitude. Hug your loved ones. And live this day to the fullest. You deserve it and so do your loved ones.

Love Over Toxicity

March 26, 2016 Jessica Leave a comment

Oh we have all experienced them. I, admittedly, have been one of them: a toxic friend. We have all heard the term but I wanted a better definition so I went to the tried and true: Google. I’m not one for WebMD but the article that I found had some very moving words and I couldn’t say it better myself:

“The phrase ‘toxic friend’ is pop psychology,” says Jenn Berman, PhD, apsychologist in private practice in Beverly Hills, Calif. “I would say it’s someone who, after spending time with them, makes you feel bad about yourself instead of good; someone who tends to be critical of you — sometimes in a subtle way and sometimes not so subtle; a friend who drains you emotionally, financially, or mentally, and they’re not very good for you.” (http://www.webmd.com/women/features/toxic-friends-less-friend-more-foe?page=2)

You may wonder why I’m posting about this on my transformation page. Well, recently there have been events that have transpired that have really ruffled my feathers. Lisa has a friend (I use this term very loosely) that is the epitome of a toxic friend. Lisa and I have now been dating for over a year. We have a had and continue to have a very healthy and balanced relationship and friendship. Sadly, I have seen her be abused by this friend over the course of our relationship. She is, in my opinion, a miserable person. And we all know what they say about misery…

She doesn’t like me. Okay. Whatever. It hurt my feelers in the beginning but I can absolutely say that I have tried to have common ground with her and she rejects me. She is the type of person who is the victim of their own circumstance. You know the kind: poor, poor pitiful me. We are all adults. We made our choices. We lead our own lives.

I know that I’ve experienced my own growing pains with friendships. I have had two friendships that lasted 15 and 20 years that haven’t panned out the way that they should have. When you’ve been friends that many years, isn’t it supposed to last forever? That’s kinda the mentality but it’s not the reality. I can say that in both of my friendships that I had my fair share of the ‘blame’ (for lack of a better word). I could go on and on about them. I could point fingers and give a running score card of who did what to whom but what would that accomplish? Not a whole lot. I have spent a whole hell of a lot of time analyzing why things didn’t work out. I’ve written letters and texts trying to mend fences; spent countless hours talking with other friends about the ‘betrayals’ of said friendships. In the moments of analyzing these friendships, it only made me miserable and they lost nothing. Although, I like to take a lesson from everything I experience. And these broken friendships have taught me many things.

Jealousy is an evil, evil thing. There is no room for it in…really anything but, especially, a friendship. It tears you down and, worse yet, it destroys your friendship. Be happy for your friend’s success. It’s not a competition.

Articulation and communication is a must. No one out there is a mind reader. I don’t care how long you’ve known each other; there’s no person in this world that knows EXACTLY what you’re thinking all of the time. Not possible. All too often, we lash out at those that we care about. We use the wrong emotions and get an undesired outcome. Such as with my failed friendship: I got angry and blamed her for forgetting about me and choosing her bf over me. I lashed out and acted like a child not getting her way. When in actuality, I was sad and I missed my friend. I wasn’t able to articulate that at the time. And while this wasn’t the sole reason for the destruction of our friendship, it was a main contributor.

Relationships of all kinds are work. You can’t expect someone to make YOUR friendship work. We get too caught up in: she did this and she didn’t do that and poor me poor me. We fail to realize that just like with anything in this life: you get what you give. You aren’t gonna get that promotion at work if you don’t do the work. You won’t get the date with the girl at the coffee shop if you don’t ask her out. Just the same, you can’t expect to have an intimate friendship if you don’t nurture it sometimes.

Be kind; be understanding. We all have our struggles. Each and every one of us are fighting battles not known by others. Be compassionate. Give the benefit of the doubt. Don’t be so hasty to judge.

And if you’ve done all these things and still your friendship sucks, call a spade a spade. Really, all people have a purpose in your life and sometimes that purpose isn’t what you expected. You don’t have to be miserable about that. My dad once told me that I’d be LUCKY to have just a couple true friends. I thought he was full of it at the time because I had sooo many friends but now I realize that his assertion was spot on.

This life is just too precious and too short to waste it being miserable. If you’re miserable, you have the ability to change it. I truly believe that. As for Lisa’s friend, the protective person in me wants to call her all kinds of names and tell her where to go; but the wiser person in me wishes her peace. I think she’s sad that her friendship with Lisa isn’t what it once was. I think she’s unfulfilled in her own life. I think that she’s jealous of the positive changes that Lisa has made. I think that she doesn’t say what she actually feels. And maybe none of these thoughts are true but I know this to be true: Lisa is a good person. She is kind and generous. She is thoughtful. She is a great friend. She has had her share of grief; her share of let downs. She deserves to be happy. Maybe what we have will last forever; maybe it won’t. But I’ll tell you this, if your ‘friend’ can’t be happy for you when you are happiest, what kind of friend is that? And THAT has absolutely nothing to do with me.

Lisa posted this sweet quote on my Facebook wall today about falling in love

and I wrote the following response. I think it is rather on point. In spite of everything I have gone through and though I’d never wish it on anyone, I feel so very fortunate to have found two amazing loves; two amazing people who love(d) me in spite of all of my flaws and have made my life all the better.

Fall in love with someone who knows your favorite color is green and that you like just a little cream and sugar in your coffee…like the color of a caramel milk chocolate.

Fall in love with someone who delights in tickling your side and biting your nose just because it makes you giggle so hard; because you are the girl who asserts that you don’t girl but clearly that someone makes you. Fall in love with someone who makes memes to make you laugh or finds memes to make you smile on a long work day or just because.

Fall in love with someone who lays their head on your chest and can tell that you’re nervous or that you are calm. Fall in love with someone who has an abnormally strong abdominal aorta and makes you feel their ‘baby’

Fall in love with someone who licks your face in public and has classifications of public licking in terms of green frog/blue frog. Fall in love with someone that you can always be silly with and neither of you care how you to look to others.

Fall in love with someone who doesn’t have to show you off because your love shows itself off without even trying.

Fall in love with someone unexpected; someone who is your opposite but your equal. Fall in love with someone who makes your life better without even trying. Fall in love with someone that builds you up.

Fall in love with someone who puts your needs above their own; someone who thinks about what they will order for dinner and amends it to fit your tastes.

Fall in love with someone who sees who you are; who loves you for all that you are and sees all that you can be. Fall in love with someone who nurtures that in you.

Fall in love with someone that thinks your snores are adorable. Fall in love with someone that you would let your arm rot off from lack of circulation because you don’t want to let go of them.

Above all, fall in love with the person that you truly deserve because you deserve to be happy. You deserve to live a life you never dreamed possible. You deserve to experience a love beyond your dreams.

Second Wedding Anniversary

Video March 18, 2016 Jessica 2 Comments

On a windy, cloudy day I was surrounded by friends and family as I vowed to always cherish Paul. Yesterday marked our four year wedding anniversary. It marked the second of which I “celebrated” it without my husband.

I knew this year would be significantly different from last year. Last year, I was surrounded by so many people. It was as if everyone was trying to protect me. I had lots of friends that were being very supportive and active in my life. This year I felt more alone. Noone asked me what I was doing for our anniversary this year. Noone invited me to do anything this year. Noone gave suggestions on what to do. I wasn’t upset by this; I just knew that this was way different than last year. I wasn’t sure how I was going to feel so I was determined to not make any certain plans. Well yesterday came and I literally had nothing to do. No plans. I hadn’t spoken to anyone about their schedules.

The last two weeks have been so difficult for me. I’ve been extra sad. I haven’t been sleeping well. I have been dreaming about Paul; only to wake to him not being there. It’s traumatic for those first waking moments-for just a moment when I first wake, he’s not gone; he didn’t die. Then it’s realizing that was a dream and that my life without him is the reality. And it’s heart wrenching. It makes me not want to sleep; it makes me fear sleeping. There have been times when I want to sleep just so I can see him but the ‘loss’ in the morning is so hard to bear. It sounds absurd but it’s the best way I know how to explain it.

Yesterday, I woke crying. Lisa was by my side and she tried her best to console me. It’s hard for me in those moments because my instinct is to conceal what I’m feeling. Although, when my feelings are that intense; it’s not possible. After she left, I had myself a good cry. I pulled my hair and I screamed. And it was terrible but necessary. I guess I tired myself out because I drifted back to sleep. I got around to getting a mani/pedi. I got a couple balloons, champagne and drove out to Stars & Stripes Park where we exchanged our vows 4 years ago. To my dismay, there were crowds of people and the champagne bottle was a pop top. Ugh. I struggled with the bottle for a good 20 minutes before popping it with my seat belt. I walked to the spot we stood at that day. I listened to Pandora and my Train station almost always plays Marry Me which was the song I was supposed to walk to but Paul forgot the boom box that day. That song played in my ear, I pictured that look he had on his face as Chris spoke and I let the balloons go. I watched as they disappeared into the sky. I sat on the ledge where our wine box sat, I had a drink and read the homily that Chris spoke that day:

In our culture today we express to each other two conflicting ideals. On one hand commitment is extremely important. We publicly admonish anyone who is unfaithful. Those who go against the ideal of commitment are subversive and are in some ways cast out. On the other hand we support and promote an absolute sense of self. We believe that the individual, their morals, passions, and aspirations are of extreme value and regard.

How can we reconcile this? How can an absolute sense of self and an absolute dedication to commitment co-exist?

That question is how we define marriage for our generation.

The contradiction exists in trying to forge your own path while sharing your life with another.

Yet, that is our strength. The belief in ones self is what ultimately makes us the best that we can be. Our sense of self and our drive to achieve our identity makes us whole. The whole person is the person that achieves loves. Because, love is an achievement, not a given.

Love is not a fleeting connection from across a room when two eyes meet; it’s soup and crackers when your sick. Love is not a first dates kiss; it’s that text message you get at lunch asking how your day is. Love is not roses and chocolates; it’s laughing with each other even though moments ago you were yelling at each other. Love is less about what’s ahead of you and more about what’s behind you. Because loving what you’ve done together before will prepare you for anything ahead.

There is an old cliche. Marriage is hard work. The idea expresses that love, relationships, and especially marriage are not for the feint of heart and not for those who are unwilling to put in the work. The cliche is old but is so true. Marriage is work. Much in the same way that a beautiful garden is work. Some days you can sit and admire the breath taking view. Smell the flowers and relish in the color and comfort. Another day you’re adding to the garden or taking away from. Before you know it, however, you might be knee deep in a pile of dirt, pulling the weeds, and praying for rain. -Chris Munoz

Lisa got me a green wine glasses and a lobster bottle stopper. I’ll share the lobster story another day. Although, many of you already know it’s significance. We went and had green beer. We came home and we watched the wedding video. Oh how I missed his voice. I replayed the ‘I love you baby’ several times. And I was happy to share that moment with Lisa. And this is just one of the things that makes her truly special. She respects and accepts my love. She actively participates. I’m truly lucky.

This anniversary was, by far, the hardest so far. My heart felt as though it was literally breaking. I don’t ever foresee a day when this will be easy or be just another day. I’m okay with that. Every year, I’ll look back on that special day; I’ll celebrate it in some way until the day I die.

And now we are preparing for our trip to the Bahamas. Paul will be joining us. I will be leaving a piece of Paul there because everywhere I go, so shall he.

Learning to Dance with a Limp

February 20, 2016 Jessica 4 Comments

What is significant about today? Nothing really. I woke up. Finished a research paper. Did some dishes. Binged on some Netflix.

I woke up in a not so great mood. Not a bad mood. Just an off mood. I felt good about finishing my paper (a whole day ahead of deadline-woot to me). I got a new dishwasher and it is fantastic. Netflix is always good because it comes with Mollie cuddles.

I woke up on this day about 3 times; each time sad. I thought about nursing school. I thought about seeing that dishwasher during the walk through on our house. I thought about other shows I’ve binged on.

Today, I woke up with a heaviness on my chest. I miss the time of nursing school (not ACTUAL nursing school, just to be clear). The old dishwasher used to be new. I thought of Scandal.

On this day, like too many before and so many more to come, I miss Paul. It’s days like these that I literally have to tell myself to breathe. And I literally think through the process of breathing: the air breathed in and my lungs full and the action of exhale. I miss nursing school because that’s the time where Paul and I spent two years of our life. We got married during nursing school. Seems that the peak of many of mine/our friendships were during that time. We had a Friday date every week while this house was being built to visit it and check the progress. It held such promise. Promise of a great future. And so soon, that fucking dishwasher crapped out; much like Paul’s heart crapped out far too soon! And sometimes when I sit on this couch that I love but Paul never knew, I can’t help but miss making him watch Scandal with me. And how on every episode, he would say ‘if Liv cries…one more time…I’m done’. And every night, we’d watch the next and you know, she cries like every episode.

I miss him beyond belief. It’s amazing to me how I live each day and most days I’m happy but I’m always sad to some extent. And, man, days like today, when the house is quiet and I have nothing but the thoughts in my head, the memories to recall, his picture staring at me from the mantle–I have to remind myself to breathe. There was a time that at moments like these that I fought my tears and choked down how I feel. But now, I allow myself to cry and I let myself feel my heart ache. I let myself grieve. But only when I’m alone. I feel like it’s really the only appropriate time.

And somehow in the midst of my blubbering, I stumbled across this quote:

“You will lose someone you can’t live without,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.”

― Anne Lamott

And I’ve read it about 10 times. I love it. It’s so very true. So many times people say to me “I don’t know how you survived. I couldn’t have. I would have died or I would have to be committed”. I always think to myself “What a waste if everything we shared were to have died…with him; with me”. So I trudge on. I take him with me. I speak of him often. I think of him daily; sometimes hourly; sometimes the moments consume me completely.

I love you, Paul.

Boobies on the Mend: 3 Week Post Op & Reflection

Image February 14, 2016 Jessica Leave a comment

Oh man. Where to start? It’s a long week or so.

Let’s start with my physical stuff. So, my right boob has been concerning. On February 2, my supervisor went to take her jacket off, turned and accidentally ‘punched’ me in my right boob. If you recall, my right boob required more reconstruction than my left and has been more painful and not exactly aesthetically pleasing. When this happened, it knocked the wind out of me. I didn’t really put 2 and 2 together at my 2 week post op appointment when the medical assistant questioned the new bruising on the 4th. At work the following day is when I realized the two were linked so I called my doc. The bruising progressively worsened and they wanted to see me the following week. I had my 3rd week follow up this past Wednesday day. He squeezed and manipulated my breasts. It was awkward since I don’t have feeling superficially to below my nipple. He told me I had 2 hematomas and that he could feel that an internal suture(s) ripped causing the bleeding. He needed to evacuate it! He stuck a 2 in. 18 gauge needle through my incision around my nipple and moved the needle around, pulled back on a 20 ml syringe trying to find the pocket. He got out 5 mls of dark red blood. Nothing else. He felt again and said he need to try again but would have to go through the breast. Eek. He attempted 3 additional sticks. Ouch. Although I have no feeling on the surface, I do have deep sensation. I started to sweat and turned ghost pale. He wasn’t able to get anything else out, sadly. He told me to just watch it and that it’d hopefully resolve. He was concerned regarding the possibility of infection. Since my appointment, my bruising has significantly reduced and the color is now green so I’m happy about that. His assistant called me yesterday to check on me and my doctor is still concerned so he has started me on a round of antibiotics. Better safe than sorry.

3WeeksPostOp (2) — Current boobies! Bruising is SOOO much better today! The itching has begun! 2/14

Otherwise, my incisions are healing well, I’m sleeping better (no more night sweats), I’m rarely requiring tylenol and the tape residue is ALMOST gone. My incisions are so fine and I’m excited to see the end result. The only source of pain is still under my arms. Constant bending of the incisions and chaffing is sometimes unbearable! My doctor told me it was my compression garment so I’ve tried just sleeves. Nope. I’ve tried gauze. Nope. I’ve tried bandaids which have helped the most buuuut then they chaff my actual armpit. Ugh. The struggle. Now, I’m using zinc oxide (baby butt paste which is helping). My 4 weeks is Tuesday and I no longer have to wear my compression sleeves unless I want to! That’s exciting and no compression garments does feel best on my underarms. Although, I still don’t have feeling to my incision sites to about a quarter inch on both side of it so it’s a weird sensation. And it makes me paranoid that it’ll rub on somethings so I’m now wearing long sleeves and I foresee me wearing compressions at work this week but we will see.

3WeeksPostOp (8) — 3 Week Arm Incisions are faint!!

3WeeksPostOp (7) — The arm crease is the most painful. Still numb on the underside of my arm.

3WeeksPostOp (4) — Exciting! I get to wear a bra!

I had my first therapy session post operatively. It was much needed and very over due. I feel like I word vomited all over her the moment my booty hit the couch. I’ve been struggling. My anxiety has been on high. Feeling a bit depressed. Feeling upset that I’m upset. And isn’t that some shit? Not only to have these feelings but to, also, have feelings about the feelings. It’s a bitch! I’ve been missing Paul more intensely. I feel guilty. I feel alone. It’s all a bit over whelming really. In my session, I said multiple times “I’ve wanted this as long as I can remember and these feelings are absurd. ABSURD!” Her first response to me “how about you give yourself permission to feel the way you feel?” I sat back. Sighed. And thought ‘well isn’t that a novel idea?’ Ha ha. It’s literally never occurred to me. And I let that thought soak in and I said ‘okay’. As she summed up what I said, the series of events is very overwhelming and the thought comes to me ‘well holy fuck dude. That’s kinda like a lot’. And Lisa has told me most of these things but I guess there’s just something about the third party, impartial somebody saying it that makes it stick. She reinforced that my mind, my heart, my body has been through a lot in this past year. She told me that I’m now having to grieve the loss of my ‘body’ while in the midst of grieving over my husband. It’s okay to be upset. It’s okay to say I’m not where I want to be. And in the moments of chaos, it’s hard to realize that it won’t always be this way. I won’t ALWAYS feel this way. I won’t ALWAYS feel out of control. Eventually, it will pass. She also brought up the point that I’m not as active as I’m used to being which effects my mind and body. I’m a very independent person that is temporarily at a point where I’m having to ask for help and not in a big way…in the small ways and that has an impact. Man oh man. I needed that reality check.

My mom gave me this little sign over a year ago that says: “You can do ANYTHING. You just can’t do EVERYTHING”. I think I have to realize and accept my limitations. I have to learn to be okay with them as they are a part of me and make me human.

The Best Moments of YOUR Life

February 14, 2016 Jessica 2 Comments

Close your eyes. Imagine all of the best moments of your life. Name the best two. Now, if you had 30 seconds to live or relive what would they look like?

This was the exercise my amazing charge nurse did with the four of us nurses in my department about a week ago. Answers varied from triumph over traumatic violation to children to marriage to the feeling of God. All heart warming. All brought tears to my eyes. Thirty seconds to relish in the hug of a child; 30 seconds to thank a stranger; 30 seconds to sit with your dad.

I sat there with my eyes closed. Floods of images came to mind. At the forefront: my grandparents, Paul, our wedding day, our first date, conversations with my brother, closing on our home, sky diving, day drinking in Austin, the day my brother asked me to be his best man, drinking and dancing with Lisa in my kitchen, graduating nursing school, my mom’s tumor is found to be benign, cards with my family, Tennessee, Vegas with my mom, making out in the McDonald’s freezer, skipping school to hang with my bff, my Papa teaching me to drive in his 89 Chevy, Cruise to Mexico. So many.

The Christmas we spent at the hospital after my brother had grand mal seizures. It was stressful and scary but we were all together. This was the day my brother gave me the sweetest card and asked me to be his best man.

When my turn came to share my 2 best moments, I was so choked up I could barely get the words out of my mouth. The first I picked wasn’t my wedding day; although it was a great moment and truly one of the best. The very best day of my life was a series of moments really…the ones within the two weeks of first meeting Paul. On June 12, 2010, I started talking to this wonderful man that kept me chatting then on the phone until like 3am. We had our first date on the 13th. I remember the butterflies in my stomach as I walked out of Bank of America in my bright pink sun dress. It was a windy day. I walked towards the blue Trail blazer and climbed in. He was buckled in his seat belt. Blue stripped shirt. Goatee. A smile that beamed from ear to ear. “What’s up”. And my world was forever changed. Within two weeks, this girl that was ‘never getting married’ talked to her brother on the phone and told him how she was going to marry him. What a wonderful time.

The next best day of my life came just a couple weeks ago. I’ve told you of the unforeseen panic attack of my first shower post op. I’ve never felt such panic but in those moments came the best moment. Lisa. It’s a blur getting from the shower to the bed, those probably 10 steps. But me lying on the bed. Naked. Panicked. The world spinning. Eyes closed. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re not alone.” And then I was calm. Eyes still closed, I thought about the last time she said that to me “you’re not alone”. Those are powerful words to me. They evoke this emotion in me. And stir me up. And make me cry but not in a bad way. Although, I have loads of people that love and support me, I feel alone. And the next best moment of my life is her. My next chapter of happiness. The fact that I’m not going to live out my life alone. Sure I cherish my memories and I always will, but I don’t have to live out my life with just those memories. And, that, that is wonderful.

And the 30 seconds I’d live over? The last moment I saw Paul. In that hospital room. Our last hug. Our last I love you. I’d hold him tight and I’d tell him that he was my world, that I loved him more than imaginable and I’d thank him. I’d not take those 30 seconds for granted. I didn’t know I was at the time but I guess I did because when I look back on that moment, that hug, that I love you–it was an every day I love you. Ya know what I mean?

I loved this exercise even though it made me cry. And lying here, typing this, I’m crying. I think back on the Jillian Michael’s event that I went to recently when she quotes Thoreau’s: The Mass of Men. We lead these lives that we really don’t want. I love my job but not one of my memories is the best day of my life a work day. It’s always an experience, a loved one, a feeling. So I want more of that. More love and laughter; less worry and waste. I hope you work towards that as well.

Early in our relationship. First trip to TN

20150821_192458 — Drinking and dancing in my kitchen

Who’s That Girl In the Mirror? Graphic Images

Image January 27, 2016 Jessica 2 Comments

Have you ever thought to yourself if I had this or if I accomplished this then I’d be happy? I mean…with whatever…be it weight, money, love. All my life I’ve imagined what my life would be like if I were thin. Surely it’d be better and it’d be different. So many times I’d look at myself in the mirror and say ‘man, if I could just lose {fill in the blank}, I’d be content’.

I’ve always been very unhappy with my boobs and my arms. So extremely self conscious. It impacted everything from what I wore to how I sat to how I had sex. I can remember very vividly when Paul had moved into my house and I was changing clothes and I turned away from him as I took off my bra. He kinda chuckled and said ‘why do you do that’? I instantly felt embarrassed. I told him that he wouldn’t understand and it turned into this huge conversation. In summary, I hated the way my boobs sagged and he loved me just the way I was. He told me so many times throughout our relationship how beautiful and sexy I was and how much he desired me. This is the first time I’ve really said this but I never really believed him.

It was and is so absolutely irrational. My body issues are deep seeded. It wasn’t until probably a year into our relationship that I actually took off my bra during sex. Because I hated how they looked. I hated the sounds that they made.

I’m a bundle of emotions today. I’ve said it a thousand times: grief is a bitch. She’s an evil bitch that I think waits until you’re least expecting it and the she pushes you down and laughs at you. At least that’s how I feel today; how I feel this week.

I can’t tell you how long I’ve imagined having my arms and boobs done. Probably the first time I ever really gave it thought was at 16! That’s a lot of years of fantasizing of what it’d be like to have slender arms and perky boobs. I’ve never had them. And I’ve always had a negative body image about it too. I’ve always thought about how amazing it’d be if they looked a certain way.

As I showered today, I could see myself in the mirror. My boobs are very perky; perfectly rounded. They look they way I’ve imagined they should all of my life. I squeezed the soapy rag against my outreached arms and watched as the suds streamed down my arm, down my body. I washed my stomach and the underneath of my breast. It was foreign to me that I did not have to lift my breast. I bent down to wash my feet and my breast did not hang or sway and neither did my arms. I got out of the shower and dried off. I tried to whip my towel around my back to catch it with my other arm like I always do but I wasn’t able to. My face felt warm and my head was pounding, my nose turned red and my eye began to water.

012616 (1) — Significant bruising to underside of right breast. Minimal pain now.

012616 (2) — I can almost extend my left arm completely now. I only have about half of this range of motion on my right arm. Both arms are tight. I continue to have to ice them.

I stood there and I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked at myself from head to toe. Not intending to critique myself in the least. Just kinda soaking it all in. And I began to cry. Who is this girl?

This face. It’s slender with a defined jaw line, no double chin. Topped with the darkest shade of brown hair, so short that it barely brushes my brow. And my boobs: my nipples are centered and in the correct anatomical position. My bellies are still there but as I put my hand on my hip, I can feel and I can see my bone. I take a deep breath in and I can see my chest rise, my stomach drawn in; I can see the outline of my rib cage. I turn to the side and I look at my arm. Slender. One smooth, semi-even line from my shoulder to wrist. I dry my back and I can see my shoulder blades. My lumbar spine is defined and there is no back roll or rather back ‘shelf’. I stand forward again. My thighs are still thick by not massive and when I look down, I can see my toes.

012616 (1)

I don’t recognize this girl. She’s everything I’ve bargained with myself to be. She’s everything I’ve been working to accomplish but I just don’t recognize her.

I finish drying and I have to put my compression vest on. And the tears come full force as I have my right arm in the sleeve and I can’t quite reach behind my back for the left sleeve. My arms are tight.

And I close my eyes and I see Paul. We are standing in our home on 46th street. He’s holding my shrug as I put my arm in. And he tells me that it’s awfully warm outside and that this jacket isn’t really necessary. And I tell him ‘you know I hate my arms’. He kisses my shoulder and tells me he loves me just as I am.

I struggle but I get the vest on. And I snap it. And I look at myself tears streaming. He loved me just as I was but I didn’t. Now I look the way I want but I don’t recognize myself. And I have this rush…this panic…this feeling I felt for days, weeks, months on end following his death after all my friends and family had to leave my side to get back to their lives…I’m alone.

There’s some days when my house is so quiet and I walk through it and I have flash backs of a moment where he stood in that spot. And I think of the moment we stood there together. And now my memory is not of the girl that I see in the mirror now. And in some morbid way, it’s devastating.

**big sigh**

Being a widow is tough. Being a bariatric surgery patient who lost her husband on the same day is even more tough. In time wounds heal, but big wounds always leave a scar. I’m still healing. I still have days like today where it hurts like it is January 2015. On nights like right now, when my heart is literally aching and it seems that I’ve surely cried every tear a person could possibly produce, I try to tell myself to be thankful. I’m so thankful that I experienced Paul. I’m so thankful that I experienced a love that touched me to my core. I’m thankful that I survived. I’m thankful that I’ve pressed onward. I’m thankful that I’ve experienced new love. I’m thankful that I get to keep his memories with me. I’m thankful for this blog to share them with you. And I know that sooner or later I’ll recognize the girl in the mirror and I’m gonna love her too.

Transformation Through Loss