Category Archives: Body
It was seven years ago today (well, yesterday) that I took the plunge and went under the knife. When I tell most people that I’ve had a “boob job”, they assume I got implants. The girls are still rather large and I always make sure they look their best. But I didn’t increase them. I was sixteen years old when I underwent breast reduction surgery.
Let’s be serious, any type of plastic surgery is risky and especially for a young girl. I was unhappy, I didn’t know what I wanted I just knew I didn’t want them. I went into the surgery not knowing the outcome or how I’d feel. I’ll be honest, I never knew what the recovery process would be like.
Waking up from the surgery I was loopy and in pain. I couldn’t look at them for quite a while (showering was not a fun process). It took several weeks for me to become remotely comfortable with what I had done.
Seven years later and I can honestly say I’d do it again. This time I’d be less naive; ask the surgeon for a smaller set and make sure to douse them daily with Vitamin E to diminish the scars. Some days I’m still not overjoyed with how they look, but I know I made this decision for a reason. I can comfortably run with one sports bra, I can wear most tops without buying up a size, and I can find a bra without going to a specialty store.
Cosmetic surgery isn’t for everyone. I suggest researching extensively before making an appointment with a plastic surgeon. And most importantly, make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons (I’m still uncertain if I did).
On a lighter note, I had a lovely day with my family and friends. Yes, we ate a bit much, but these things happen. I leave you with this cuteness:
Have you ever considered going under the knife? What would make or break your decision?
I had only been in Ohio for a few weeks when I attended my first hash. That night I met my
awful ex-boyfriend, M, and her soon to be boyfriend. For a few months the four of us spent a good amount of time together; going on trips, eating out, and drinking heavily (as most hashers do). Within six months I had gained fifteen pounds, I was at my heaviest weight ever and I looked atrocious. I made changes, I took the means necessary to lose the weight, and within months it was off again. And I was single again.
As for M, it wasn’t the same. She and her boyfriend have been together for over a year and a half. Within that time she has gained over fifty pounds. More than fifty pounds. That isn’t a small amount and it is impossible for her to hide. She has removed herself from our hash group and I rarely see her these days. At the beginning of the year, M was proud to mention that she had joined the local gym. Fantastic, I thought, now she can get back to her old self.
That was more than five months ago. How frequently has she attended the gym? Three times. The first time I was supposed to join her, but she was wishy-washy the night before so I didn’t set an alarm. She was furious that I didn’t show, but somehow she went to a body pump class. Next she met with a personal trainer (since it was offered free with membership) who was kind enough to tell her that she should only repeat a workout three times before changing it up and that workout classes were useless. She listened to the trainer. She returned to do the workout the trainer planned, but stopped right after.
I know it isn’t my place, but her actions frustrate the hell out of me. She has taken the first step to better herself, but has been stuck in a stand still since. No matter how much her friends (myself included) have offered to exercise with her, she refuses to do anything. Her boyfriend (a good friend of mine) joined the gym to help motivate her. Now he goes three times a week. Did this help? Nope.
She joined us for Girl’s Night last week and it is apparent that she is continuing to gain weight. It isn’t pretty. And I don’t know what to do. I have no right to get upset with her, but I want to help her. She refuses to workout with me (probably because I’m slightly too high energy about exercising), she won’t workout with her boyfriend, and no one else can push her out of her rut. I hate seeing my friends spiral out of control. What is a girl to do?
Have you ever dealt with a frustrating friend? What has helped motivate them to alter their harmful lifestyle?
I find that I have a personal barometer that I measure and alter my emotions by. My weight. I realized it this morning as I shied away from the scale. I haven’t stepped on the scale in the past two weeks due to vacations and poor eating, I didn’t know what to expect.
Now, I’m well aware that the number on the scale should not affect me. It doesn’t own me, I am (or think I am) at all times in power of my body. Yet why the fear this morning? Well, I haven’t worked out as much, I ate more decadent meals, and I lost too much sleep. So what was I to do? I knew I needed a base on where my weight was after two weeks of gluttony, so I sucked it up (and in) and got on that scale.
What did it tell me? Well, somehow I’ve managed to maintain/drop a teensy bit of weight. I don’t know how it happened, but I found myself immediately cheerful. Something about that darn scale gets to me. Every. Damn. Time. I don’t have a pair of skinny jeans, I don’t keep body measurements of my progress, I just base my body on that single number. Somehow seeing that I haven’t deviated off my downward path was able to improve my mood immediately.
I’ve learned to become less upset about small fluctuations upward, but that lower number? Heaven. Maybe I’m learning to eat and live at a balance. Perhaps my body is plateauing again (it sure likes to do that). Whatever it is, I’m glad that I’m managing to maintain a healthier lifestyle. Hopefully my barometer will never exceed that previous tens digit (not sure I’m ready to admit it). And if it ever dare, hopefully I have the strength and determination to weasel my way back down.
What about you? Do you have a personal barometer? Does any physical factor make or break your mood?