You live, you die
And spend the years in between asking the question
Why you’ve been through what you been
You lose, you win
You even pay for other sins
But you must always adore the skin you are in
You live, you die
A couple of weekends ago, I went out to a sports bar with a girlfriend. We were dressed to the nines as we planned to head out to a club afterwards to meet up with some folks for a birthday celebration. I was wearing a sassy skirt and a sleeveless top that dipped dangerously in the middle. When I weighed over 300lbs you wouldn’t dare catch me in anything sleeveless. Even though my weight was pretty evenly distributed over my 5’9 frame, my arms were extremely large. I was disgusted by them so naturally everyone else would be. For most of my teens years into my twenties, I kept them under wraps.
Now that I have lost the weight, my arms still remain fairly large. Although it’s been a while since I stopped covering them up, whenever I see pictures of myself, my eye still goes to my arms and how they appear in comparison to the rest of my body. I often try to pose to hide them.
On this particular night as we were finishing up dinner, a photographer came around taking picture for the restaurant website. I hate being photographed because I don’t consider myself especially photogenic. Probably stems from the days I was super morbidly obese and was reminded of how I looked to other people every time I looked at a photo of myself. As the photographer started to take the picture, I unconsciously pulled my jacket up over my arms. He gave me a disapproving look until I removed it.
Afterwards, he sat down next to me and told me how beautiful I was and how women out there were paying thousands of dollars to get what I had. “Love what you got. Don’t be ashamed of it or cover it up.” I didn’t get the sense he was trying to get his mack on. He was just telling it as he saw it. His words definitely gave me plenty of food for thought.
When I decided to have the surgery, my main goals were to be healthy and to truly be comfortable in my own skin. I wanted to like what I saw when I walked past the mirror. So many women, whether they are a size 2 or a 22, are not happy with themselves. If you’re not happy with yourself, how can anyone else be happy with you or around you. I don’t want that. I want to truly embrace and adore the skin I am in.
Do you? If not, what are you doing about it?