It's been several years since my last post. I have many reasons, and excuses, for letting this blog slip away- but at the core is simply this: I was redefining me. The initial posts on this blog were about the beginnings, the battles, the beautiful me that I was and was becoming. And then, there I was. Nearly 200lbs lighter, a size 6, a small, and I was healthy. (I'll go back and address the actual loss shortly, I promise!) So I was faced with the looming question of "Now What?". And man, that was a scary question to tackle.
The first couple of years during my weight loss journey were focused on simply losing the weight. That process defined me. People would see me after a month away and would be excited and shocked at my progress. I had to buy new clothes every 2-3 months, I was buying new shoes (and shoe sizes!) regularly, and I was starting to adjust to the mirror image I was meeting every morning. And so it went from the first pound lost in 2007 until my loss halted in 2011.
My weight plateaued, and I was now, who I was going to be. Physically. I was weighing in at roughly 145lbs and I should have been happy, right? This was, after all, the ultimate prize. Getting to this point was the end goal, the final destination, the pinnacle of my efforts and the proof that it was all worth it. Every pain, every frustration, every effort, every drop of sweat and the countless tears- all were shed to get me to here- to this new, thin, me.
And yet, I was left with a feeling of emptiness. I was filled with doubt, and was no longer sure what I was working for, or towards, after years of being solely focused on this one thing. Losing weight. See, I had missed a major step in the journey. Yes, I was redefining my body. But I had failed to see that redefining my body meant I would also have to redefine so much more in my life. I was use to shopping at certain stores, buying certain things, encountering certain reactions that shaped my interactions socially. So when the excitement and the awe fades away, and you are left with a normal-lost in the shuffle-nothing extraordinary about you- YOU... well, you are left with a lot of quiet. A lot of time to ponder what you should be doing now, and if you're honoring your body and the journey that got you there, properly.
So here I was. I was living in Las Vegas and no one knew the old me, so no one was telling me how amazing I was to have overcome that huge hurtle. I was just Laurina. Anyone who met me, assumed I had always looked the way I did and I found myself being judged by an entirely new group of people. Overweight people. Yes, you read that correctly. I started to run into judgement and stares, rude comments and a dismissive attitude from the people who embodied everything I once was. I knew their pain, I knew their struggle and I felt their hurts, and yet- they looked at me like I was the enemy and despite my best efforts to be kind and accepting, I was often ignored by an entire group of people who I had solely identified with for so many years. These were MY people, and now, I was an outcast.
Tack on one more reason I was feeling lost and confused.
I was working for The Art of Shaving in 2010-2011 when I first encountered this type of interaction. I was the manager at TAOS and next door was a tea shop. The manager there, was a woman who reminded me of who I had been only days before my surgery. She was bitter, frustrated and trying her best to convince people that she loved the way she looked- "I'm a woman with curves and I love myself." she would say through a fake smile and faux confidence. Others believed her, but I had said the same things and I knew the lies she was telling well. I also knew the emptiness she felt on the inside. And so, because I felt I could connect with her on a deeper level, I attempted to converse.
I knew I couldn't go up to her and say "Hey, so, you barely know me but I use to be just like you and now I'm not, but I understand how you must be feeling because clearly you're lying to yourself and everyone around you." Yeah, that wouldn't go over well... So instead, I was nice. I looked her in the eye, I didn't stare at her rolls or the sweat on her brow (from the extra effort it took to do the basic every day tasks) as so many people had once done with me. I just saw her beautiful inside. I would go in for a tea and would ask her about her day, about work, about home, her husband, any thing that would help her let down her guard with me a bit. It took months before she stopped giving me the stink eye when she thought I wasn't looking, but one day she brought me a tea without solicitation and looked me in the eye and said "Why are you so nice to me?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" I replied.
"Everyone is so judgmental of me... you don't seem to see my weight, I feel like you see me..."
She was right. People are judgmental of her weight, as they had been of mine, and it was amazing to hear her say that she knew I was different. And so I shared my story, showed her the pictures of the woman I had been, and she let me in. After our conversation, I asked her one final question.
"Why did you judge me?"
She looked at me stunned. Paused. Took a breath.
"I didn't judge you. I just assumed you were like everyone else." she reluctantly and quietly muttered.
I smiled, but decided to press on further.
"You know I get it. So you also know I know you judged me. You decided I was judging you before you ever had a conversation with me... and I know where that comes from and why you felt that way. But how many relationships are you missing out on because you're making these assumptions instead of believing the best in everyone? Just think about it."
And we went back to work.
This moment, this simple conversation, was the beginning of the redefining of Laurina. It was the moment when I knew I had a responsibility to myself to continue to grow, to discover new ways to interact and new ways to behave. I had posted before pictures on Facebook, posted links to my blog, and occasionally reminded people where I had once been and that it was not all that long ago. But I also knew that living in the past was not enough. While I wanted to continue to share my journey in hopes of helping others, I also knew that being this new me, came with responsibilities. I needed to do the things I had made excuses about doing while I was overweight and losing. I needed to embrace my new body and begin to thrive, not just be. It wasn't going to be easy... But it was going to happen or this journey would have been for not. And well, that just wasn't going to happen on my watch.
