Me with noticeable loose skin vs. me stretching my loose skin. Been incredibly body negative lately, and I feel like I constantly am thinking about getting this loose skin removal sometime in the future, and finally being able to see myself for “what I think I should look like.”
Often times I forget that I lost 33% of my body weight, and have maintained that loss for two years now. I wish I could say that I’m proud of how far I’ve come... but the loving, self assured, and self accepting post-massive-weight-loss-loose-skin-but-I-love-my-body-anyway mentality would just be performative, inauthentic, and dishonest, on my end. I hate my body most of the time. I don’t see the body of a young, determined person that lost 85lbs and kicks ass when I look in the mirror. I see a woman that is now being punished for ever being obese in the first place — wearing her penance like falling drapes on a dusty morning. I see the disappointment of my efforts, and the shame of having once been so large, that the only fair thing would be for me to carry this skin like shackles.
I wish I could see beauty in the monstrosity of what remains of my body. I wish I could see this skin as my battle scars - instead of a war zone.
