Rhonda is Losing It!

Healing...and Heeling.

2016-04-11T07:07:00.000-04:00

My mother's birthday was Tuesday, April 5. I had a terrible day, but after school, I went to buy two pink latex balloons. I brought them home, used a Sharpie to write messages on them and released them. I sent my love and messages to heaven--and I'd like to believe that my mom got the messages.

One of my friends posted a meme on Facebook that reads, "When a mother dies, a daughter's mourning never completely ends." I think that's true. My brothers miss my mom, too, but not like I do. My mom and I were close. I called her every day. I spent every school vacation with her. We went out to lunch and shopped and did things together that my brothers didn't and wouldn't. Our relationship was SPECIAL.

But we had almost three months to say the things we needed to say. Many people don't get that. At one point during her last week, she said to me, "Everyone should have a daughter." That was without a doubt the best thing she could have said to me. And it gives me comfort to remember that. So things are a little better...one day at a time. Hell...one moment at a time. I never know when grief is going to slap me in the face. It lurks in closets and in dark corners, and I never know when it's going to rear its ugly head...but I'm trying. One breath at a time.

So...onward. The other "heeling" in the title refers to my footwear! Yes. I'm wearing heels! Well, a wedge heel, but a heel nevertheless! When I was large, tottering around on high shoes just wasn't practical. First, I already have knee issues. Second, it's hard to balance a fat body. Sorry, ladies, but it's the truth. I'm having to teach myself to walk all over again! But I have purchased three different pair of wedge heeled shoes--it's FUN to be TALLER! I know...little things make me happy. But considering I never thought I'd be happy again...

Lastly, "heeling" could also refer to my dating life. YUCK! I am SO tired of married men!!! The last one, Graham, claimed to be legally separated. He said he was living with his mother. I won't go into details, but I discovered he was LYING. Ugh. So tired of it. My dating profiles say absolutely no married men and yet...I may start asking to see divorced papers (or death papers in the case of widowers) on the first date!

It's Monday. Try to enjoy yours--and know that every Monday eventually leads to Friday! Have a good one if you can!

Angels in the Living Room and Make Mine a Medium

2016-03-22T02:38:00.000-04:00

My mother passed away on a Sunday. She went downhill remarkably quickly, but the first bad night she had was Wednesday. She was sleeping on the sofa when she woke up panicked, complaining that she couldn't breathe. I set her up in the recliner, gave her some medication to help her relax, and then I brushed her hair until she relaxed and finally fell asleep. I sat in the armchair next to the recliner the entire night.

My mother's neighbor, Debbie, came over in the morning, and she and I were chatting quietly while my mother dozed. When my mother awoke, she looked around the room and then asked, "Where'd that man go?"

Debbie and I looked at each other, and Debbie asked, "What man?"

My mom said very nonchalantly, "The man who stood behind Rhonda watching over her all night."

I know. Goosebumps, right? I had them, too. And I think that I'm dealing with my mother's death well because of that. I was protected. I AM protected. I miss her. Terribly. But something else exists beyond this life. I do believe that now.

My mom was a tiny woman--4'9 at the time of her death. She was heavy when I was growing up, but she lost all her weight and managed to stay small. My mom had a LOT of clothing that still has the tags, never worn: several pair of knit pants from Sears (size petite small) and two pair of capri pants, (size petite medium.) The knit pants fit me, (because they stretch) but I want to return them. I'm 5'3" and petite pants are often just a little bit short. I prefer my pants to "break" at my shoe, and these don't. The capris are not knit but instead a cotton-poly broadcloth, so they don't stretch. I wasn't sure they would fit me at all.

They do. Perfectly. In fact, I wore a pair to school last week.

It's hard to get my head to accept that I'm a size medium. Bizarre. I still feel fat, although in my heart, I know I'm not. I still view chairs with arms as the enemy. I still walk into a theatre and wince at the thought of squeezing into the uncomfortable chairs. I still gravitate toward larger styles and have a very hard time purchasing clothing that flatters this new body, instead wanting to find clothing that covers--because that's what I USED to do.

Size MEDIUM. Me. It's surreal...and yet it's real. Maybe my angel can help me accept that?

Grief Brain

2016-03-15T18:04:00.000-04:00

Grief brain is a real thing. (Google it. Yeah, I was surprised, too!) A little over two weeks ago, the love of my life succumbed to cancer. My mom (Surprised? You shouldn't be; our moms are definitely our first loves--they love us unconditionally) died rather peacefully after a very short (3 months is all) battle with cancer.

My mother was 84 and didn't pursue chemotherapy because she wanted quality of life rather than quantity of life. I'd say she accomplished that as she was only gravely ill for less than 24 hours. The rest of the time she was laughing, eating, watching television and only someone who really knew her would even guess she was sick.

I was fortunate enough to be able to spend my mother's final week with her. My principal is a wonderful man who said to me, "Family comes first" when I told him of my mother's diagnosis back in December. I spent two weeks at Christmas, a few long weekends here and there and finally her last week with her. The last week was lovely--I guess that may sound weird, but she was well enough to be good company and to let me pamper her a bit. I rubbed her back and her feet and gave her a pedicure and manicure, which she loved. We had real quality time together, and I have no regrets.

But my brain! I have really struggled these past sixteen days. One evening almost a week after she passed, I was going out with some friends. I didn't have a key to my mother's house because I used the garage door opener. Instead of driving that night, my friends came to get me. I couldn't figure out what to do to be able to get into the house because I didn't have a key. I considered leaving my car in the driveway. That way I could take my car keys with me and then use the garage door opener to get into the house. Then I thought about just driving myself. I went around and around with the problem until it finally occurred to me just to TAKE the garage door OPENER. Seriously.

I have been back to work a week today. The past three days, I've searched high and low in my house looking for my mother's jewelry box. Come to find out, I left it behind. I didn't even pack it. Fortunately, my youngest brother picked it up and took its contents. My mom wasn't much for jewelry--she only had a few pieces, but still...!

I've left the house twice without my cell phone. I left my reading glasses at home today. I handed a student an eraser today when she asked for a pencil. Yep. I've lost it.

The good news is that I haven't lost it for good. https://www.griefrecoverymethod.com/blog/1994/02/grief-affects-concentration-emotional-jet-lag This article has wonderful information on the entire process. "Emotional jet lag" is a good way to describe it. Here's another good source of information: http://www.refugeingrief.com/grief-brain/

I'm at an age when so many of my friends are sharing this experience. It's a sad rite of passage that we must all go through--but it's not easy, nor will it ever be.

(Oh...and for those of you keeping score: I weigh 144. To date, I've lost 161 pounds. Sorry to disappoint those who believe gastric bypass surgery doesn't work. And it's been more than 4.5 years!)

"I am NOT Caitlyn Jenner..."

2015-07-18T18:05:00.000-04:00

but I could be!

Caitlyn (formerly Bruce) Jenner was awarded the Arthur Ashe ESPY the other night, and people are (vocally) divided about the honor--with those against complaining that undergoing transgender surgery in a very public forum doesn't require courage.

When I had my surgery nearly four years ago, I was terrified. Of failing. I was afraid that the fat Rhonda would "win" and that the surgery wouldn't be successful. I had SO many naysayers in my life: those who told me that "so-and-so had the surgery and gained back all of his/her lost weight" and "so-and-so had the surgery and now thinks that she's 'all that'" and other negative statements. Of course, I've had a lot of support along the way (I almost spelled it "weigh"!), but there was a lot of doubt--self-doubt and otherwise.

Today, as I recover from yet another step of taking back my life (total knee replacement), I realize that Caitlyn and I have a great deal in common. We are both finally...FINALLY...really truly living. Living life on OUR terms. Caitlyn Jenner, at 62, is finally living the life she's been denied. So am I. We both have grown out our hair, are "styling" when it comes to fashion, are comfortable with who we ARE and are finally really, truly happy.

Fat Rhonda, like Bruce and Caitlyn, was the real me living a lie. How could anyone deny Ms. Jenner the chance to live the truth? Should ANYONE have that much power over another human being? Of course not. And as I wiggle my toes as part of my recovery from surgery, I know that having this knee replacement was just another stop on the road to LIFE on MY terms.

Have a wonderful weekend!

I'm BACK...with a case of the IDGAFs.

2015-07-12T22:47:00.000-04:00

My dear friend, Jeanie, convinced me to start writing again, so here I am. When I started this blog nearly four years ago, I did so to document my journey through bariatric surgery, better known as gastric bypass.

It's been four years on August 5, and I've kept most of the 145 pounds off. I have gained three pounds, but I'm totally comfortable with that. I wear between a medium and a large top, a small in some knit pants, and a 12 or 14 in dresses and jeans. My hair is longer than it's ever been; I have a new tattoo on my wrist; I shop at Rue 21 (where I find great bargains--$2 tops?!) and two weeks ago, I pierced my nose!

So...this blog is no longer about losing weight. I'll be glad to answer any questions about weight loss surgery, of course, but my new focus is on the IDGAFs and how YOU can get a case of them, too.

For those of you who aren't sure what "IDGAF" means, it means "I don't give a F**K." I think calling it the IDGAFs is a little more polite, but truth be told, no matter what you call it, it's the ONLY way to live your life.

We spend SO much of our lives worrying about what other people think. Why? Eleanor Roosevelt said, “You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do.” She also said, “You wouldn't worry so much about what others think of you if you realized how seldom they do.”

Brilliant woman, that Eleanor. She was said to be "less than attractive" but that didn't keep her from being the powerful, articulate, inspiring woman she was.

And whatever YOUR perceived flaw(s), it/they shouldn't stop you either! I truly have stopped worrying about what other people think. I'm living life for the first time, I think. I go to amusement parks and ride the most ridiculously scary roller coasters. I wear knee-length skirts after hiding my "fat" for years. I smile at strangers. I've always wanted to pierce my nose--I bought little magnetic fakes and even the type of stones that one glues on. Finally, I did it. And I LOVE it. I've bought jewelry to switch out when it's time, and I can't wait.

Stop waiting for others' consent--real or perceived. Life is short. LIVE it. One of my friends said of a Facebook photo that I keep "getting cuter." I told her it's because I'm living--perhaps for the first time in my life. And I am.

I want to hear that YOU are, too. I'm back, people...I hope you're glad to have me here, but of course, I write this for myself (and maybe Jeanie...) so if you don't like it, well...IDGAF. :-) But then you knew that, right?

Have a great day! AND LIVE.

Love and Loss

2015-06-07T22:49:00.002-04:00

Last Saturday, I lost someone who was at one time very important to me. He died very unexpectedly from a heart attack. Phil was THE guy in high school. I was sure I loved him. I bought him Brut cologne for his birthday (December 4), and he came to see me in the hospital when I had knee surgery our senior year of high school. He was cute and funny. He played basketball for CYO (Catholic Youth Organization), and I saw him play often. (He wore #33.) We often stood at our lockers and talked until we were late for class, but when it came time for prom, he took someone else. (A someone else who turned out to be his ex-wife...)

I hadn't seen him in years--although I saw him and his son at Red Lobster last summer before I moved back to NC. I didn't say anything to him that day because I wasn't entirely sure it was him-- he and I made eye contact, but inasmuch as I look much different than the last time he saw me, I don't think he was sure it was me, either. But by the photograph that accompanied his obituary, I know now it definitely WAS him. I wish I had spoken to him that day. Sigh...

I learned of his sudden passing on a page on Facebook for my (can you believe it?) 40th high school reunion. Ironically, his son is married to a former student, and he and she had their first child (and Phil's first grandchild) on the day he died. I was so shocked to learn of his death that I felt it had to be a mistake...until I confirmed it by reading the obit. It just doesn't seem possible. Even now, more than a week later, I'm still stunned and so very sad.

Phil is the third man from my past to have died. Bill died several years ago--he was someone I had dated in my 20s who revisited me in my 40s. He had cancer, and his passing was a blessing as he suffered greatly. William passed away unexpectedly from a blood clot following spinal surgery. I truly loved all these men but William was the only one with whom I had current contact. I met William on AOL in 1998. He and I had a complicated relationship--but I loved him, and I know he loved me. He and I spoke every couple weeks; the attraction between us was still strong; in fact, the weekend before his surgery, he propositioned me, and laughing, I turned him down. I wish I hadn't. I wish we had met once last time...I wish we had made love one last time...I miss him so much. I discovered on my iPhone that deleted phone messages are never truly deleted--and I was able to restore them. I listen to them now and then when I'm missing him the most.

I'm hurting so much tonight...not just for Phil--we hadn't seen each other in years and probably had nothing in common--but for Bill and for William and for all the possibilities that just aren't anymore. I know that people quote Tennyson, "It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all", but as I sit here alone and heartbroken, I'm not so sure...

Happy Mother's Day

2015-05-10T08:47:00.000-04:00

It's Mother's Day. I often have a hard time with this holiday--not because I don't have my own mother--but because I wanted children and didn't get to have them. My ex-husband didn't want them, and he and I didn't have sex often enough to worry about getting pregnant, so...

It's hard to have a void like this in my life...it's a void that cannot be filled. Before my surgery, I would try to fill it with food. Now, since that isn't possible--and since I cannot afford to fill it with earrings or shoes (not that I wouldn't like to try!)--I've accepted that I have to FEEL the void. It's a tough thing to do, but I'm trying.

This year, I had quite the surprise. Two of my 11th grade students gave me Mother's Day presents! Seriously! One girl painted me a picture; the other gave me a gift bag with silk flowers, a stuffed animal and Little Debbie oatmeal creme pies. (I told you--I eat everything--just not a LOT of anything!)

The gifts made me cry; I couldn't get over the kindness of these young women, who have shown me love in THE most special way. I'm touched beyond measure.

So to everyone who has a mother, who has lost a mother, whose biological mother was a disappointment or who is or is NOT a mother, I say this: How we know and recognize a mother figure is by her LOVE. All of us are mothers of one sort or another--biology has nothing to do with it--it's all about LOVE.

Happy Mother's Day, everyone!

Chemistry 101

2015-01-17T13:44:00.000-05:00

As an English teacher, most other subjects baffle me. (Although I'm doing really well in Trivia Crack except in the Sports category, but that's another story for another time...) Math has NEVER been an area of strength, and chemistry? Well, let's just say I got an "A" in Prep Chem because I met with the prof every day for extra help--and ultimately, I think he felt sorry for me! But I'm not talking about THAT kind of chemistry--I'm talking about the chemical reaction between people. What causes that "spark"? And why does it exist between some people and not others?

I ended things with Dee. Yeah, yeah, I know. You must think I'm as fickle as Romeo. But the truth is, there was no spark. He was nice. He was good looking. He was even a good kisser. But conversations with him were dull--it was like watching golf on television. Ugh. I know you've had the same experience--you have met someone, whether of the same or opposite gender--and you've either immediately LIKED that person or "meh". There are some connections that cannot be explained. You just "click". When you meet these people, you know they are going to be in your life for a while--for whatever the reason.

I have female friends like this. We have clicked, and because of that click, we can go weeks, months, years without actually being in each other's presence and still pick things up like it was yesterday that we last sat together. I have male friends like this as well. These people are comfortable. They relax us yet stimulate us. They make us think. They challenge us and support us and make us feel that, at least on SOME level, we are loved and valued.

The oddest aspect of these relationships is that we may appear to have NOTHING in common. I'm divorced. Some of my best friends have been married forever. I'm a cat and dog person; my friends are usually not cat people. I have an advanced college education; it doesn't matter if my friends do or do not. I don't have children; nearly ALL of my friends do. I'm in my 50s; some of my friends are in their 20s!

I cannot explain chemistry. I won't pretend that I can. I WILL tell you, however, that chemistry has me seeing a man who is TOTALLY not my type. He works in a blue-collar job, has a limited education and cannot spell his way out of a paper bag. Yet it works. He makes me laugh. He makes me think. He makes me giggle and feel young and silly. He PICKED ME UP. (Keep in mind, as someone who weighed over 200 lbs for nearly ALL of her adult life, this is MONUMENTAL.) I really, really like this man. I may be falling in love with him...time will tell. All I know is that he's in my life...for a while. Yeah, chemistry! Go figure!

So Far to Go...

2015-01-10T21:03:00.001-05:00

I spent my Saturday in my absolute FAVORITE way--at the movies. I saw two films today: Selma and The Imitation Game. Both were wonderful--heartbreaking, well acted, so terribly sad and so terribly important.

We have come so very far from the days of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., but we have so very far to go. I sat in the theatre watching the events from 1965 unfold and sobbed. I was alive in 1965, of course, but I was too young to have fully absorbed and understood what was going on in this country at the time. When the bomb exploded in the church in Birmingham in the first few minutes of the movie, I sobbed. It was not the last time I cried. As a person who prides herself on not seeing color, I was truly ashamed to be white as I watched how African-Americans fought to win the right to vote. The hate, the violence, the killing--we have come so far in this country but we have SO very far to go.

I know that my words don't capture the power of the film--and in a way, I'm glad they don't. See it. Cry through it. Feel it. And then talk about it. Talk about where we were. Talk about where we are. And once you've talked about it, look at what YOU can do to help us move further.

The Imitation Game, like Selma, is also a true story. And while African-Americans' mistreatment was the focus of the latter, the treatment of homosexuality in England was one of the focal points of the former. Alan Turing was probably the world's first computer genius--a genius whose invention helped end World War II two years early and saved hundreds of thousands (if not millions) of lives. And yet, because he was gay--which was ILLEGAL in England until 1967--he was treated in a horrific manner.

I won't spoil the end of the movies for you, although if you know your history, you know how each movie ends. They were both wonderful, and I recommend them both. We have come such a long way, and we should be encouraged by that. Still, we have so very far to go...and I, for one, hope to see us make progress, however slow that progress may be, every day.

Oh, and yes...I did have popcorn at the movies. (I always do!) But a small popcorn lasted over two movies, and I still only ate half of it! I'm a cheap date!

Say 'Cheese'!

2015-01-07T18:50:00.000-05:00

I thought that it was time to update my panel photo. I HATE "selfies" taken in a mirror, but I'm home alone tonight, so...

I went back to work/school on Monday and it's been a pretty good week. Hard to believe it's Wednesday already! People around me at school are sick--and it seems that ALL kinds of things are going around! Stomach bugs, flu, sore throats, bronchitis, laryngitis and so on...all things I don't want right now!!!

Truth is, I think I'm healthier now. That sounds stupid. Of COURSE I'm healthier now as far as my weight goes--my blood pressure is normal, my heart is healthy, etc. But I think that my general health is better now, too. (Knock on wood!)

The only problem I've been having is sleeping all night--and it sucks. I wake up almost EVERY morning at 3:30...almost like clockwork. Last night was the first night that I woke up and went RIGHT back to sleep--and I didn't expect to because I had had a little iced tea before hand! I drink so very little caffeine, I thought that it would really bother me. The tea I had yesterday was the first in about a month; I drink spring water almost exclusively.

So...what do you think of the new pic? Between the pounds (145 gone) and the new 'do, I hardly recognize myself some days! But it's a really GOOD change!

What's In a Name?

2015-01-04T11:12:00.000-05:00

No, I'm not quoting Shakespeare. (At least not now--those who know me know I do so regularly, though...) Today's topic has to do with another aspect of dating for...um...shall we say "seasoned" daters.

Dee and I had dinner last night, but it was not the dinner I had planned. Shannon's great-grandmother called me shortly before we were to leave to head to our "half-way" meeting place, which is about an hour and fifteen minutes from home. She was having car trouble, so I had to take Shannon all the way home. A five-hour car trip was definitely cutting into the dinner plans I had made! However, I think it was John Lennon who said, "Life is what happens when you're making other plans"! So, I sent Dee a quick text that we might have to change our plans and took Shannon to Chik-fil-A for lunch before we got on the road.

After we got our food, I called Dee. It was pretty apparent that he didn't want to cancel completely so I asked if he minded picking up a pizza and joining me later than originally planned. This man's mantra is "no problem". It's SO nice to be with someone like that! Shannon's great-grandmother was able to borrow a different car to meet me at the edge of their city, which saved me about an hour, and I was able to get home by 5:30. It was really foggy, and because I knew that he would be traveling to my house by a similar route, I sent him a quick text to warn him to be careful. When I'm driving, I ALWAYS dictate texts, although Siri sometimes gets things wrong. In this case, she REALLY messed up. First text said it was "5 D" out. 5 D instead of foggy? I also discovered, when he was called me at 7:15, late and lost, that she had completely messed up the address I had voice-texted to him! Poor guy! He remembered that I don't live far from the school where I work, so he found his way there and called me! I managed to talk him here--I live out a bit, but he finally got here, and we had a lovely evening.

So...four dates and I think we're on a roll. His schedule is different from mine, so I'm not sure when I'll see him again, but I know I will. Which brings me to the title question.

What do you call the person you're dating when you're no longer fifteen? When we go to a basketball game at school next week, how do I introduce him? My friend? Too platonic. My boyfriend? Again, not 15 anymore. My lover? Too laughable--and it reminds me of Carrie Bradshaw telling everyone about Aleksandr Petrovsky in Sex and the City when Sarah Jessica Parker's character first gets involved with Mikhail Baryshnikov's character. Nope. My gentleman friend? Sure. Hand me a fan in case I get the vapors. Nope. Next! My companion? Sure, if he was a cocker spaniel. It seems young adults use terms like "bae" (which I understand means "shit" in Denmark although it's SUPPOSED to be a term of endearment here), "hubby" (which is wrong, presumptuous and ridiculous) and "MCM" (for Man-crush Monday--an Instagram trend). Sigh. None of these work.

So, I guess I'll just use...um...well...his name! "Hi, this is Dee." I don't need to describe him as "my" anything! I'm just happy to have such a problem!

It's Sunday--and I'm back to work tomorrow, so I need to go do all the school work I didn't do the past two weeks! Have a great day, and thanks for reading!

The Dating Dilemma

2015-01-03T09:58:00.001-05:00

People often misuse the word "dilemma". The prefix "di" indicates "two", so a dilemma is, in the very truest meaning of the word, a "situation requiring a choice between TWO equally undesirable alternatives." The keywords in that definition, I think are "equally undesirable." As a divorced woman, I have to choose between staying home alone (or hanging out with my few female friends) or putting myself (and my heart) out there in the dating world. If you've dated at ALL in the last 20 years, you'll know what I mean. It's brutal! Married men on the prowl, guys looking for casual sex, foreign scammers...you would not believe how rough it is out there. So why would an intelligent woman even try? Good question!

Tonight, I'm making dinner for "D". (I really don't want to reveal his name now, so I think I'll make that initial a word and will start calling him 'Dee' for ease.) Dee and I have been out three times now. We met online and had our first date a couple of weeks ago--lunch at Applebee's. (If you haven't tried their politically incorrectly named "Oriental Chicken Salad", you really need to! Delicious, but I digress...) Our second date was dinner at Chili's and a Netflix movie at my house. He was a perfect gentleman (or so you're going to think because I'm not giving away any details. And don't think my lack of details is an admission of guilt or acknowledgement of ANYTHING!) Our third date was a movie--he actually took me to Into the Woods. I had given him a choice of either Unbroken or Top Five, thinking both movies were "guy-friendly" films. In passing, I mentioned that I wanted to see Into the Woods. (For those of you who may not know, the movie is a Stephen Sondheim musical based on the Broadway plan of the same name. A musical!) Imagine my surprise when he texted me the times for Into the Woods! When it was over, (and it's wonderful, by the way), I told him, "Oh, I owe you big for this one!" and he said, in his quiet, calm way, "It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be."

That blew me away. He went to see this movie because I wanted to. He figured it was going to be bad, but he was willing to see it to make me happy! I honestly don't think I've ever been with a man, including my ex-husband, who agreed to see something I wanted to see.

So tonight I'm cooking dinner for him. I'm roasting a chicken, making mashed potatoes, corn (because he's "not big on vegetables" which is not a big deal as neither am I) and a dessert I haven't quite figured out yet. I have a busy day ahead of me because I have some cleaning to do, shopping to do, and I have to take Shannon back to her great-grandmother. And I'm nervous. Four dates! This could be a make-it or break-it date. This could be the start of something. This man seems to be a very nice, but am I a good judge of character? I don't know. I really don't. All I do know is that I could really like this man. I mean really like him.

So...the dilemma. Do I continue to risk heartbreak? Or do I get used to being alone? I don't want to get used to being alone, because while I love my "me" time, I don't want to spend all of my days alone. I asked Dee pointblank what he wants out of life and out of love. His response? "I want to be loved and someone that wants me and to have fun."

Simple and to the point, right? That's what I want, too. So of course, I'm going to risk heartbreak. After all, (to quote an old commercial), I'm worth it! So maybe, in its truest meaning, dating isn't a dilemma for me. So stay tuned. I'll let you know how it goes. Just don't expect any details...

Happy 2015!

2015-01-01T07:00:00.000-05:00

Today is January 1, 2015. Where does the time go? It has been three years and nearly five months since I had my gastric bypass surgery. It's also been nearly three months since I last blogged here. I'm going to try to improve on that!

I don't know about you, but I'm glad to see 2014 leave. It was a year of ups and downs--the most notable "up" being my return to North Carolina and teaching; the most notable "down" the death of my dear friend, William. (I'm not going to post about him today--I'm still too raw. Perhaps in the weeks to come...)

Do you make New Year's resolutions, only to find you've broken them a week or two or three (if you're good!) later? My ONLY New Year's resolution is to try to blog more often. It helps me--and I've had feedback that it helps others, so why wouldn't I? I know that life gets in the way sometimes, but I am truly going to make an effort to write at least once a week!

It's 6:15 in the morning; I've been awake since before 5:30. My body has become used to "school hours", and even on the weekends (let alone vacation), it wakes me. On this first day of a new year, I'm reminded of a New Year's Day six years ago...

My cat Emily, who has since passed away, bit James on New Year's Eve. He had kept her for me while I went to New York (I needed a cat sitter because I was having new tile floors put in my bathroom.) Although I had warned James to be careful with her, (She was VERY temperamental), he cornered her and she bit him. As a result, he and I spent ALL of New Year's Day at a walk-in clinic in Raleigh. And when I say all day, I mean hours and hours and hours. It took more than six hours of sitting and waiting to see the physician on duty. When we finally did, James had the wound cleaned and was given an injection of an antibiotic; then the wound was wrapped and we were on our way.

I thought we were going to get some lunch/dinner. It was after 4pm, and I hadn't eaten all day. Instead, James drove directly onto the highway instead of going to the TGI Friday's which was literally up the road from the walk-in. When I asked him about it, he became ANGRY. VERY angry. And his anger was no joke. He started speeding on the highway--doing at least 90. I was terrified. I mean terrified. I was crying and begging him to slow down or to stop and let me out. i have never been so afraid of another human being in my life. I tried to break up with him once we got home, but he cried and begged for another chance. I relented...like a fool. And while that was my FIRST meeting with James' evil temper, it was not the last.

You may be asking yourself WHY I'm telling this story today. After all, it happened six years ago--it's history. Yeah, it IS history, but history is doomed to repeat itself unless YOU learn from it. And fortunately, I HAVE learned. Recently, a man I've been dating KICKED one of my cats. The cat jumped out of nowhere, as cats are wont to do. Tony's reaction? He KICKED my cat, and then, after my horror-filled reaction, he had the audacity to suggest I get "rid" of the cats. So what did I do, dear reader? Of course I did! I got rid of Tony. There is no room in MY life--NOR in YOURS--for a person who would be cruel to an innocent animal. EVER.

I had been seeing Tony and another guy, D. D is nothing like Tony (or James, for that matter). He is quiet and laid back, tall, handsome and just a gentle soul. He's also patient, which is unfamiliar and wonderful for me. He is very attracted to me--he's made no secret of that--but he's willing to wait until I'm ready for the relationship to progress further. We've had three very nice dates, and I'm making him dinner on Saturday night. We'll see what, if anything, is to come of this. The good news is that he likes me and is attracted to me, which I find both intriguing and sexy as hell.

And if he's the "right" one? Only time will tell. But I do know that he won't be tearing up a highway or kicking my cat--and for now, that's enough.

Happy New Year! May 2015 bring you all kinds of happiness! May you live, laugh and love EVERY day!

(WHO is this woman??)

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall; Can I Trust You AT ALL?

2014-10-19T08:34:00.000-04:00

One of the most amazing things about this surgery is getting used to your new body. At three years and two months post surgery, I have to wonder if I'm EVER going to be able to accept that I don't look like I used to!

When I was big, I rarely let anyone take my photo. I posed for the "before" photo because I knew that I wouldn't look like that forever. I DO have photos (from the shoulders up) that I thought were "good" pictures of me. When I look at those photos, I'm appalled. I don't remember being THAT big. I know I weighed 305 at my largest, but I still don't remember being that big. I looked in mirrors and NEVER saw myself that big.

So now, when I look at this much smaller version of myself in the mirror, I get a little freaked out. Do I REALLY look that small? How can I trust the mirror? I don't think I can. It's a little different when I look at photographs. Photographs I tend to trust a little more...although I'm not sure why.

I used to feel SO pretty in this dress. I was HUGE.

This photo was taken yesterday. Me, on a HORSE. I haven't been on a horse since I was about 12...I'm trying to make up for lost time. There was so much I didn't get to do when I was fat. Two weekends ago, I went back to Carowinds and rode every roller coaster I could find. I had so much fun on the horse yesterday that I'm going to take riding lessons beginning November 5th.

If you've read my blog for any length of time, you know that my former fiance, James, didn't think he could be attracted to me when I lost the weight. So it's ironic that his "new" girlfriend (he started with her immediately after I broke up with him) is having gastric bypass on Monday! I want to warn her about him, about how he'll try to sabotage her success as he tried to sabotage mine, but perhaps she has to find out for herself. I've never met her but from what I see in photographs, she's considerably larger than I EVER was...

I wish her well. I really do. I hope she's taken care of the psychological reasons she has eaten herself into needing this surgery, so that she can lose the weight and KEEP it off. I hope she goes to the post-surgical classes and follows every step to the letter. But no matter how many classes one attends, no matter how prepared one thinks one is for this surgery, life afterward will NEVER be the same. And I, for one, am SO grateful for the difference, even though I still find it hard to trust the mirror!

Happy Birthday to Me!

2014-09-18T00:01:00.000-04:00

Today, I am 57 years old. Fifty-seven! Where does the time go? I remember dropping a bottle of cologne (Heaven Sent) out of my locker onto the tile floor of my high school. The bottle shattered and the locker (and the lockers next to it) smelled of Heaven Sent for weeks! It seems like it was yesterday...not 40 years ago!

Where DOES the time go? It's been more than three years since I had my surgery, and even that seems like yesterday. But it's been a good three years...with ups and downs, of course, but a good three years, nonetheless.

And I know that it's three MORE years than I might've had if I hadn't had the gastric bypass when I did. I saved my life the day I decided to have the surgery. There are few moments of absolute certainty in life, but the surgery saved my life--of that I am completely certain.

I was almost diabetic. My blood sugars were borderline for a year or more before the surgery. My blood pressure was high--to the point where my doctor was getting ready to put me on medication for it. My cholesterol was always pretty good--but trust me, that's a reflection of good genes more than it is indicative of my previous lifestyle.

My life is very different. I am able to do more today than I've been able to do in years. There's a stable close to my house, and when I get paid again (this once-a-month pay is ridiculous!), I'm going to go horseback riding. I haven't been on a horse since I was about 14 years old. But I love horses--I love all animals, and I cannot wait to ride again! On October 4, I'm going to Carowinds in Charlotte with a few of the teachers from school (all three of them are in their 20s!) to ride roller coasters and to scream and to have a FABULOUS day!

Who says life begins at 30? Or 40? Or even 50? For me, it started on August 5, 2011, six weeks before my 54th birthday. Talk about a roller coaster ride! Peaks and valleys and screams of glee...I am SO happy to be alive!

So yes, happy 57 to me...here's looking forward to another 30 or so!

Little Girl Lost...

2014-09-14T10:51:00.002-04:00

Before one has gastric bypass surgery, one has to go through some rather rigorous testing, including consultations with a cardiologist, gastroenterologist, nutritionist and psychologist. I passed all these tests with flying colors, or I wouldn't have been able to have the surgery. However, even with all the tests, with all the support, no one prepared me for what's going on in my life today.

I feel lost, for lack of a better term. I don't recognize the person I used to look like, but I don't recognize the NEW body, either. Here's a photo that my friend Dorothy took the day I had my two-week post-surgical visit where I was (finally) allowed to eat solid food. The photo commemorates my first bite of mashed potatoes.

By the time this photo was taken, I had lost about 20 pounds (and I had lost 5 before the surgery), so I probably weighed 280. I honestly don't remember being THAT big. I KNOW that I was, but I never saw myself that big.

This photo was taken yesterday by my former student, Naomi. We went to lunch and then shopping where I had to buy a belt. (For the first time in my life!) I wasn't sure that she was taking a photo of me--I actually thought she was taking a photo of the little dog sculpture.)

I'm not sure who that woman is. Seriously. It's MY shirt and purse, but whose BODY is that? When people see me for the first time in a long time, they blurt, "You're so small!" Cherry, at the Thai restaurant, said it. Deborah, whom I hadn't seen in ages, didn't recognize me until I said, "It's me, Rhonda!" Her reply was, "You're so small!" So it must be true, right? And yet, I don't FEEL small. It's a bizarre paradox...I don't think I'm as big as the old photos show me to be, but I certainly don't FEEL as small as I look in this photo. Having a concept of "self" is just foreign to me today.

I've had a hard time articulating this to the people in my life--and even to myself. I hope this makes some sense...and if anyone else has had this body-image issue, PLEASE leave me a comment!!

A Move, a Milestone and a Problem

2014-09-10T20:24:00.000-04:00

It's been a long time since I posted, since May, in fact. I'm sorry. I know that it's not fair to those of you who read this--I hope you're still with me even though my posts are infrequent.

First the move. I'm living in North Carolina again; this time in Rocky Mount in an adorable house in the country. My neighbor across the road (it's a narrow, private road) is a horse. :-) There are crops to the right of my house as well as behind it. It's quiet here, except for the crows, which are noisy boogers sometimes.

I'm teaching again; I really missed it, and I love the school I'm in. I love my principal, my kids and my coworkers. I really feel blessed, and returning to NC felt like I was going "home". I have great friends here, and after working in the hospital for a year, I am really glad to be back in the classroom, which also feels like "home". And I'm letting my hair grow out--here's an updated photo:

The milestone? Well, it was three years ago August that I began this adventure, and as of today, I have lost 147 lbs, which takes my weight to 158, which is FIVE POUNDS less than I weighed in September, 1974 (the beginning of my senior year.)

How do I know this? How do I remember? I had knee surgery that September. The nurse who weighed me for my admission had me step on the scale. Those non-digital scales have those weights that get moved over, and she must've forgotten that she had moved from "100" to "150" because when she slid the little bar over to "13", she said, "Okay, 113?" I didn't correct her. It was the first time in my life I "weighed" 113--never mind that I didn't really weigh that; for one hospital stay, my weight on paper was 113! So I remember it clearly. I weighed 163.

And that was the last time I weighed even CLOSE to 163. And now I weigh 5 pounds less than that! It's incredible. People who I haven't seen in a while don't even recognize me. My skinny jeans are size 12. If I could afford to have plastic surgery, I would probably weigh about 130 and wear a size 8. I'm small. Seriously...for the first time in my adult life. Remember three years ago when the naysayers told me all their hateful stories about people who gained ALL their weight back? Well, it's three years later, and I'm not there!!

And the problem? Sigh. I almost hate to admit it. I look great in clothing, but naked is another story all together. No one prepares you for how you look naked when you have this surgery. Seriously. There is no preparation for the deflated balloon look that is so hard to view. I try to avoid mirrors when I'm naked, probably more than I avoided mirrors when I was fat! I almost think I had more body confidence before the surgery than I have now, because when I was big, it was pretty much "what you see is what you get." That's not true anymore, and I think my lack of confidence is one of the reasons I'm not dating at ALL. I miss dating. I do. I'm just not sure about dealing with the excess flesh. I think counseling may be in order...

Stretch Armstrong?

2014-05-03T14:17:00.001-04:00

Remember that toy? Stretch Armstrong? The last name was a pun--he had strong arms! But the important part of it was that he could be stretched and stretched--across a room!

When I first had this surgery, nearly three years ago, people, being the doomsayers they are, told me that they knew people who gained all their weight back...and MORE. Everyone had a sad story to tell about someone they KNEW.

Hearing that story freaked me out, so I asked the nurse practitioner in my surgeon's office if she had experience with people who gained all their weight back. She told me that in her seven years of working in that office, she had NEVER seen anyone gain ALL their weight back. Yes, people gained back 10-15 pounds over a few years, but she had never seen ANYONE gain all their weight back.

So why the naysayers? Can it be that people just don't WANT to admit that this surgery WORKS? Last week's Grey's Anatomy mentioned a patient who had had gastric bypass surgery but that the stomach pouch and intestine had stretched out and needed to be repaired. However, the show didn't mention WHY his pouch had stretched, and nothing more was mentioned about that patient. I was hoping that they would expound on the subject, but they did not. I'm not sure why they didn't address the issue--perhaps there was pressure from the bariatric surgical community. Perhaps they didn't want to dump more fuel on the fire. Perhaps they didn't want to further the idea that everyone who has the surgery gains ALL their weight back.

I definitely can eat more today than I could two and a half years ago. But I still can only eat a very small amount. About half of a half of a chicken breast. If I have one more bite than I should, I get sick. One bite more. How on earth could I possibly gain ALL my weight back? On any given day, I weigh between 158 and 163...depending on intestinal issues more than anything else. Maybe it's a surgical problem? Perhaps the people who are "gaining back all their weight and then some" are doing so because they have inept surgeons?

I don't have any answers, and I can't speak for everyone. Personally, I don't know ANYONE who gained back all of his or her weight. I DO know that I'm still about 145 pounds down from where I started nearly three years ago--and I don't imagine that I'll be STRETCHING anytime soon...

Body Parts and Broken Hearts

2014-05-02T18:51:00.001-04:00

I want to ask you a question. What is your favorite body part? Seriously. Think about your body--that glorious mass of bones and tissue that covers and protects your heart, lungs, liver and other organs. What's your favorite body part?

My favorite body part USED to be my eyes. I still love them--they change color and are sometimes greener than they are at other times. My eyelashes are really long and curly, and I love them. People notice them, and I get a lot of compliments. But I have a NEW favorite body part--my collarbones.

I love my collarbones. As you can see by this picture, they are rather prominent.

I love them. I find myself stroking them, rapping on them (they make a cool hollow sound), grabbing at them. Collarbones. I've always HAD them, but before the surgery, I couldn't see them or feel them. My collarbones are this wonderfully TANGIBLE sign of the difference this surgery has made in my life.

There's a new documentary called "All of Me" about women who have had gastric bypass surgery. These women used to be "fat acceptance advocates", but one by one decided that the health benefits of the surgery were right for her. Some of these women lost a lot of weight; a couple did not. But what struck me was the fact that a few lost friends and/or spouses.

My question to this is WHY? Why do friends and lovers feel threatened by this surgery? When I had mine,my fiance James didn't want me to do so. Although he took me to the hospital, he left me on Friday night and didn't come back to the hospital until Sunday to pick me up. He didn't throw away the junk food in my house that I had asked him to throw away. I knew that it was the beginning of the end for us. He admitted to me (after I pressured him for an answer) that he wasn't sure he could be attracted to a smaller me. He later said that he was afraid that if I lost the weight, I'd no longer be attracted to him. (I'm not sure but I think that was insulting--did he not TRUST me?)

A woman in the documentary said that her new body didn't match her husband's sexual desires, but they are "trying" to hold their marriage together. He had moved out but they were dating. Other women in the film talked about losing friends. I had a friend--someone I thought was a GOOD friend--Crystal. She and I used to meet for dinner whenever our busy schedules allowed. But when I lost the weight--and began to look good--she was just too busy. What happened there? I'm not sure, but I theorize that she felt threatened by someone who would take the spotlight away from her. She stopped calling, didn't return my calls and didn't even seem to notice when I "unfriended" her on Facebook.

People make the mistake of thinking that weight-loss surgery is the EASY way out. It is NOT easy. It's difficult and scary and physically demanding. Losing 145 pounds was one of the best things that ever happened to me...but it's not without collateral damage. Still, as I stroke my collarbones, I regret nothing...

The Difference!

2014-04-01T23:06:00.002-04:00

I know I'm away too long between posts, and I apologize. Life has a way of getting IN the way. I'm working second shift at a hospital (3-11:30), and it seems that all I do is work and sleep. There seems little time for other things, but I DO have news.

First, I'm published! Yes, I've been published here all along, but I've also published my first novel. Its title is The First Nine Lives of Isabella LaFelini, and it's available on Amazon for Kindle and in paperback. You can also get it for Nook at Barnes & Noble.

Second, my weight is lower than it's been since I was a teen. 159. Remarkable. I weighed 163 the September of my senior year of high school, so this is UNREAL to me!

My medical doctor has told me that this surgery doesn't work. Yet I'm living proof that it does. He said that everyone he's known (except me) has gained back all their weight, and then some. He calls me "the exception to the rule." It's more than two and a half years after my surgery, and I still can't eat more than a few bites of food at a time. HOW can people gain all their weight back?

Maybe people push too early and expand their stomachs while they are still healing. Maybe they haven't healed whatever pushed them to put so much weight on in the first place. I don't know. All I know is that I eat anything I want (in tiny quantities) and I just keep an eye on my weight. I don't gain more than a pound or two--and then I lose that pound or two. I've always been one to retain fluid, and I think that's all those extra pounds are.

I'm not worried about regaining all my weight--the way my doctor says his other patients have--because I have slain my demons. I no longer look at food as a means of protection or something to hide behind. It is a means of sustenance...and once in a while, enjoyment. It doesn't RULE me, though--and that's the difference.

Waiting for "The Call"

2014-02-17T01:16:00.003-05:00

It's officially Monday. The day I get my "news". For those of you who may have missed the last post, or who may not be my FaceBook friends, in a few hours, I'll learn whether or not I have breast cancer.

The repeat mammogram was Monday. I went in thinking that I'd be told that there was no reason for me to worry--that my mammogram was fine and that I could come back in a year. Instead, I was told to take a seat down the hall and that the nurse would be in.

Those in the know know that such procedure isn't for good news. Ever. The nurse directed me to a "conference room" where she informed me that I needed a biopsy. It was set for Friday. It left me in terrible pain, swelling and bruising...and now I wait. I wait for a phone call that could make me happy or that could change my life forever.

I'm terrified. No lie. I've imagined my reaction to the "good" call--euphoria and tears of joy. I've imagined my reaction to the "bad" call--fear and apprehension and tears of sorrow. Either way, I'll know in a few hours...

So many of my FaceBook friends have been lovely and supportive...for which I am now and will forever be grateful. You truly DO learn who your friends are when the chips are down...

Playing Catch Up!!

2014-02-08T22:49:00.001-05:00

Holy cow! I haven't written here since APRIL of LAST year? How is that possible? There have been many, many changes in my life in the past ten months...so here are a few:

I'm not teaching any more. I'm not sure I'm "done" with teaching, but I most definitely needed a break. The group of kids I had at my last school in NC was a rough one--although my Honors' students were delightful for the most part. I got tired of being told "f&ck you" on a daily basis--and there was little or no support from the administration. So, rather than teaching, I'm working in a hospital emergency room. It's intense...and very difficult on some nights, but I've really enjoyed the change.

I'm also not living in North Carolina anymore. I have returned to New York, where my mom lives. She's 82, and her health has declined over the past several months. I'm glad to be here for her.

My weight? After all, I did start this blog to help me (and others) with life after gastric bypass. I'm happy to say that I've continued to lose weight. I currently weigh...drumroll please! 161 pounds. That's 2 pounds less than I weighed as a high school senior! How incredible is that?!I started at 305...and now weigh less than I did when I was 17! I have a lot more energy these days, and while my knees still hurt, they are far better than they were! I am living with cortisone injections (my mom's house has a LOT of stairs), but I have other health issues I need to deal with before the knees.

On Wednesday, I found out I have a "growth" (my doctor's words--I think it's a euphemism for tumor) in my left foot which is irritating the tendon and causing me great pain. I'm having an MRI on Thursday to try to get a clearer picture of exactly what I'm dealing with. However, the foot will probably have to wait as well, as I got a phone call on Thursday that is probably going to change my life forever.

There is something in my right breast. "Calcifications" that have changed significantly since my last mammogram. I have to go for a "diagnostic" mammogram and ultrasound on Monday. I'm scared to death. I tend to be a bit of an agnostic...that is, I WISH there was a higher power, but I'm not sure if there is. However, I DO believe in the power of positive thinking, so I'd appreciate positive thoughts, my friends. I don't know what else to ask for...I thought a friend was going to go with me, but it turns out she's running a workshop, so I'm on my own. It may be for the best...

There. I've said it. I've only told a couple people at work, my mom and my youngest brother, but let's see how many people actually READ this blog. And I'm sorry that I have to write such a serious post as my first post back. I WILL say, however, that I did NOT take my life back just to lose it to breast cancer, so expect a FIGHT. :-)

Thanks for being here...I'll have immediate results on Monday and will post accordingly.

The Answer Is....RED PANTS!

2013-04-09T22:57:00.000-04:00

The question: What did I wear to school today? Yes. Red skinny leg pants. Me. In red pants. I don't think I've worn any color but black, brown or navy since I was in FOURTH grade! A very large person just doesn't look good in red pants!!

I was in New York last week on spring break. My mom and I did a lot of shopping, and I found some tremendous bargains, including a gorgeous turquoise cable knit cardigan, originally priced at $40 for $3.99!! I bought the red pants, a pair of dark teal jeans with zippered ankles and a great pair of black jeans with "blinged out" pockets for $14.50 each. Their original price? $58 at Macy's! Macy's sales are incredible.

I also found an amazing pair of jeans (straight with this blue-on-blue floral design) marked down from $44 to $7.05! And they're a size 12. TWELVE!!! OMG...I think I wore a 13-15 when I made my confirmation in 7th grade!!!

This ride is not a smooth one...I don't know from one day to the next when I may eat one bite too much and risk vomiting. I'm getting better at stopping, but food is delicious, dammit. It's sometimes hard to stop, but I'm learning. Sometimes the hard way, but I'm learning. It's hard to get my head wrapped around all of this, and sometimes I feel I still weigh 300+ lbs. I look at my OWN clothing and think, "No way is that small pair of jeans going to fit me..." Because of the surgery, I can't take ANY anti-inflammatory medications, like Aleve and Motrin. My knees, which are, according to my new orthopedist Dr. Smith, at least 75 years old (I'm 55!) with their worn, arthritic appearance, hurt like hell sometimes. I had two cortisone injections today, which SHOULD buy me a few months of less pain. Don't get me wrong--my knees feel SO much better today than they did 120+ pounds ago, but I've been without cartilage in my left knee since I was 17. Imagine walking bone-on-bone all that time! An oral NSAID would help, but since I can't take them, I had to opt for steroids.

No...this isn't easy at all. But I have to tell you...as I look at that picture from the day before surgery...I wouldn't have it any other way!

Oh and by the way, I've been in two other community theatre productions in the area in the 10 years I've living in North Carolina, but the play I'm rehearsing now is going to be the best! It started as "Dracula"...and without revealing a lot of sordid details, we're now doing Neil Simon's "The Odd Couple." I play Gwendolyn Pigeon, one of two women in the play. The women in the play are described as being in their early thirties (!), cute and very English. In "Dracula", I was a Gypsy woman. I probably would've gotten the part as the Gypsy woman 120+ pounds ago, but I certainly wouldn't have been right for Gwendolyn Pigeon! It's rather exciting to think of that! (BTW, if you're local, the play is at Edgecombe Community College 4/24 (free preview) thru 4/27, all shows at 8:00pm and 4/28 at 2:00pm. Come out and LAUGH!

Same Book, Different Chapter

2013-03-04T17:46:00.000-05:00

I've come to realize that I haven't really changed...the book is the same, but the chapter is new! I had a terrific weekend. Shannon and I went to the Carolina Tiger Rescue on Saturday morning, and then we saw "Peter Pan" Saturday night. Carolina Tiger Rescue was amazing...and I wouldn't have been able to do that a year ago!

The rescue center is in Pittsboro, which is outside of Raleigh--about 90 minutes from my house. It's on several acres of land, and the tour involved walking up and down hills, on gravel and grass and unpaved roads. I took the course easily, never needing to stop and sit (there were some benches available, and a few people on our tour took full advantage). Instead, I took the hike easily, never getting out of breath or really experiencing pain! No pain? Upon exertion? What a novel idea! (Forgive the pun!)

Shannon had a great time--and I took some terrific photos! The rescue's main mission is education, and we really did learn a lot while having fun! Then Saturday night, we went to the theatre. It was so refreshing sitting in the theatre seat in complete comfort, and for the first time, maybe ever, I didn't even worry about being uncomfortable in the armed chair. There was a large woman in front of me who spilled over into the seats around her, and my heart went out to her. I know only too well how that feels.

Instead of being uncomfortable in the theatre seat, I was able to focus on Shannon and her enjoyment of the play. She's always been a great fan of Tinkerbell, and when Tink showed up in the play--a ball of light and tinkling sound--Shannon's reaction was breathtaking. I wouldn't have missed it for the world! I literally cried!

My life is really different these days. Dating two or three different guys at a time, walking, belonging to a gym--Oh, yeah, I joined Planet Fitness. I work out 4-6 times per week. Wild, huh? I'm the same person, but I've definitely entered a new chapter in my life. I like this chapter...and I want to live it for a long, long time!

Judge Much???

2013-02-15T16:53:00.000-05:00

I have always prided myself on not judging people. I don't judge based on race or religion, but this afternoon I found myself judging two different women on something that may surprise you--their weight!

I know--ME? Judging them after I weighed more than 300 pounds? Where do I get off? Truth is, I asked myself that question, and then really truly scolded myself for even thinking what I thought. But truth is, I did think it. Both women in question were easily 400+ and both were using the "scooters" at Sam's Club.

My thought: "You wouldn't need that scooter if you lost some weight." And it's true--they PROBABLY wouldn't...after all, I used to use those same scooters to get around Sam's. But they also may have had some debilitating disease, which I couldn't possibly know by looking so where do I get off judging?

Truth is, I felt terrible about even thinking it--which is why I'm sitting here less than 30 minutes later, writing a "confession" of sorts. I also know that people thought the very same thing about ME when I was scooting around the store--and of course, they were right. I'm living proof of that. Still, I had no right to think that of these women--because if it weren't for the surgery, I'd have been riding along side them.

Think about it. When's the last time you saw a large person and thought, "Why doesn't he/she do something about..." Did you chastise yourself? You should have. After all..."judge not lest ye be judged."

Phew...I feel better now. It's FRIDAY! Have a great weekend!