Be your own kind of Beautiful
beau·ti·ful
ˈbyo͞odəfəl/
adjective
- pleasing the senses or mind aesthetically.
"beautiful poetry"
synonyms: attractive, pretty, handsome, good-looking, alluring, prepossessing; More
- of a very high standard; excellent.
This is the definition of beautiful as said politically correct from the English dictionary but my question is who made this stigma of what makes a beautiful woman? Is it just her exterior that makes her "pleasing to the eyes" or can it also be her soul that is radiating through her aura that creates a shining glow that surrounds her?
As a young girl when she hears the word beautiful the mind always goes to that "it" girl or model type female. But I am learning this is not always the case. We, as humans, are teaching our children this word but not really "teaching" them what it really means. If you look hard enough I believe you can find beauty in everyone. In every situation. No matter what the exterior shows.
It has taken me a very long time to understand this word. I am just now starting to get the big picture. I can honestly say I never thought I was beautiful. I would never put myself in the same category as a model type. But what I did not know is I didn't have to put myself there. I have had people tell me my entire life that I was pretty or I was beautiful. But never did I ever believe it. But I am starting to.
I have always stood out in a crowd. I am so hard to miss when I go into public. It doesn't help that I am over 6 feet tall and most of my life have been on the bigger side when relating to the body structure. I have seen all sizes. I have struggled with being able to look into the mirror and liking what was reflecting back at me. Honestly I have always hated what I was looking at. I was too tall. My ears were too big. My teeth had a gap in them and came out slightly with an over bite. I hated what I looked like. I believed a lot of other people did too because I was constantly being made fun of growing up. How do you believe you are what you really are if you have so many people telling you and making you believe what you are not? Who were they anyways to make me feel that way? I was always told that "those girls" or "those bullies" were just jealous because they wanted to be like me. Well I am sorry but being a little girl that is having a hard time believing she is anything but disgusting is not going to believe that the popular girl is any where near "jealous" of her.
I went through many stages of my life trying to make myself feel more beautiful. I did things that were harmful and could of potentially killed me. I went days without eating anything but crackers and gatorade. I refused to eat anything else. I took diet pills daily. If I was hungry I would put another one in my mouth hoping it would stop the pain in my stomach. I got to the point where I was passing out and couldn't eat anything without the most horrible feeling in my gut. I had to have a procedure done because my pain was so intense. I remember the doctor telling me that the lining of my stomach was eroded. It was equivalent to an open sore. So when I would eat my stomach would hurt so bad because it was like grinding rocks on road rash.
That was a huge eye opener.
I was put on a strict diet of baby food, bananas and anything that was a mashed potato or pudding consistency.
Yum!
Even though you could see my ribs and every other bone in my body I still did not feel beautiful.
I got better. But once I got better I also started gaining the weight back.
That was not good. I had to fix it. I was older. I thought I was smarter. I didn't want to take the diet pills again and go through that pain so I had to find another plan. That is when my ex introduced me to the life of cocaine. I did this for a while and noticed I didn't want to eat when I was high. This was great. I not only was high and didn't have to face life but I was losing weight. It was a win win situation in my eyes. Then my issues started. The pain in my face. The constant nose bleeds. I couldn't breathe.
Well shit. This isn't what I was hoping for.
This was no longer a good plan. I had to try something else.
Some of you may be saying "Why didn't you just eat right and exercise?"
Too much effort. I was lazy. I wanted something easy with fast results.
I had the best idea.
Laxatives.
At first I just started doing a shot of liquid laxative at night. After a few weeks I started to see the results. I was losing weight. I could eat almost anything at first and would watch the pounds drop. But then I noticed it wasn't working anymore. I had to increase my daily intake. More water and more shots. I mean I didn't want to get dehydrated. I was being smart. I would do a shot of Miralax with every meal. Every single time I ate I would make sure I had the stuff with me so that I could take it with my food. If my body couldn't digest the food or have time to store the fat before I shit it out then I wouldn't gain weight. I was right. It was working. I did this routine for about a year or more. It was normal for me to no longer have to push for a bowel movement to pass. It was always like water. Not very pleasing but the results were amazing.
Then it happened. The effects of my addiction caught up to me. The liquid that was exiting my body was now blood and it was constant. Even when I wasn't having a bowel movement I was leaking blood from my rectum. Scared the shit out of me. Literally.
Reverse bulimia is what I was told I had.
The doctor had a long talk with me. He told me the long term affects I could have from doing this for so long. My bowels have become so used to not working that I couldn't just go back to eating normal foods again. Back to the baby food and mashed potatoes.
This time I promised myself that I was not going to put myself through any kind of stupid weight loss diet again. If you can even call it a diet.
I let myself go. I started smoking pot to gain an appetite and to numb the pain. We all know what happens when you smoke weed on a regular.
I got fat as hell.
Years went by as I allowed myself to become so unhealthy and so insecure with myself and my body. Then all at once it hit me. I don't want to live like this anymore. I don't want to look like this anymore. If I continue to with this lifestyle I am going to decrease my chances of living a long life. I had to do something. I wanted to do it the right way.
I just wanted to feel beautiful.
After delivering a 10 pound baby via cesarean section and then years later donating a kidney through the same incision in my stomach and all the back and fourth with weight gain and loss, my body had been through hell. It was going to take so much dedication and healthy changes to ever get anywhere with this journey.
I started small. I started walking. Watching what I was eating. Incorporating healthy choices over quick snacks. I was seeing results. They were not as fast as I would of wanted in the past but it was working. So I added more to my changes. Working out more, not just walking. Going to the gym, even on Saturdays. I started meal prepping and cutting out sugar and carbs as much as I could. Who would of thought. It was fucking working. I loved what I was seeing. within 2 years I was down 70 pounds. I could not believe what the scale was saying.
I did that shit.
I was so proud.
But I still didn't feel beautiful.
What the hell was it going to take for me to look in the mirror and like what I saw?
Surgery became my last option. I have always been addicted to having cosmetic surgery. I thought that would be the way that I could be more "beautiful."
It all seemed to work out. I had the money to pay for it and the doctor was so nice and was so proud of me and my accomplishments. I had to do it. I had the support and the opportunity to go through with it so I had to schedule. I was so excited.
Then I was so scared.
What am I putting myself through?
But there was no turning back. It was already paid for. There is no way I could cancel and be out of all that money. I had to follow through.
I had a wonderful talk with my step mom the day before my procedure. She opened my eyes so much. She made me see the big picture. It wasn't my body that was making me feel not beautiful. It was all the pain, all the words and all the things that I have been through throughout my childhood that I held onto. I wasn't looking at myself when I looked into the mirror. I was looking through myself. I was seeing all the shit that was piled on me. The abuse. The way I was treated and talked to. I cried all night. Her words were digging so deep into my soul. I love her so much. She is and has always been my angel. In more ways than one.
The morning of my surgery I was so scared. The risk I was putting myself in to "feel beautiful". I could potentially die. There was a chance that my kidney would not be able to withstand the anesthesia and medications. The fear of not waking up haunted me all the way to the hospital.
We were in route to my procedure. It was a long drive. A lot of time to think. Then the song came on that hit me like a ton of bricks. I have heard this song a million times before but on this day it sounded so different.
Beautiful by Christina Aguilera.
Her words stabbed me over and over.
I couldn't stop the tears from falling.
Why did I never believe this before.
The days that followed my surgery were horrible. I swore it was the worst recovery I could of ever imagined. I even said, a few different times, this surgery should be illegal. Women should not be able to go through this. But many have, as well as me.
The pain was excruciating. Only a few days post op I made the comment to my girlfriend that I couldn't do it anymore. I would of rather of died then to feel what I was feeling. Why the hell did I do this to myself?
Because.
I wanted to feel beautiful.
I've been asked a few different times if I would of done this all over again knowing what I know now.
My answer is simple.
Fuck No!
Sure, having a tummy tuck, liposuction and a breast lift, all at the same time, sounded like a great idea but the effects on my health, my mental status, emotional well being and my sanity were pushed to the most extreme limits. It was too much. I would sit alone for hours. So much time to reflect on my soul and life as a whole. I grew so much. And as of today it has only been 20 days since the procedure.
20 days.
How did it take me almost 30 years to learn everything I learned in a matter of 20 days. I am not sure why or how but all I know is what it is. My heart and my soul has seen it and felt it. The fact that I put myself through something so huge to feel beautiful was insane to me. I am learning, I have learned, I am beautiful. I was beautiful. I just had to see it in a different form.
I will never have the model body. It is impossible no matter what I do. No matter how much money I spend trying to change myself. No matter how many tattoos I get to cover my outer shell. Even though I got braces and fixed my teeth. I will always be me. I can't change that. I know this now.
I have a beautiful heart.
I am proud of that.
I have a beautiful soul.
I love that.
People love me, for me.
I appreciate that.
I am my own kind of beautiful.
I will always cherish that.
I am me and no one else on this earth can be me.
I am so incredibly happy about that!
So when you look in the mirror don't make the same mistakes I did.
Love that reflection. You are the only you on this planet.
That is the biggest lesson I had to learn.
Be 💓 you 💓tiful.
Comments
Post a Comment