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Life after Weight Loss

Its not Masturbation its exploratory

femaleformYes, yes, I am touching myself.

Seriously, it sounds horrible, it really does, of course I worded it that way intentionally to get a laugh out of you, but the truth is, it is NOT that far off.

If you are the type of person that is going to have an issue with the fact that I am opening discussing my private parts, masturbation and body image I highly suggest you stop reading this particular blog post, you won’t like it much, but come back, I’ll go back to the usual post Bariatric topics of flatulence, bowel movements and food issues soon enough I promise.

Okay so imagine this for me for a second. You have been overweight since the sixth grade. Morbidly obese most your life, you’ve lost 260 lb and you’ve had three bouts of reconstructive plastic surgery to get your body closer to what it might have been like if you had not battled this disease we call obesity. However, you have won the fight; your obesity is in remission, as long as you do not fall back into unhealthy behaviors. Your entire body is new to you. It’s been cut in just about every which way possible, you’ve got scars under your breasts, around your nipples, from armpit to elbow, from armpit to hip, from groin to knee and all the way around your body at your bikini line. Everything feels different from how it did before, your body is foreign to you and you have numbness in strange places all over your body where the feeling hasn’t quite returned yet. kissingJordan

Okay now let’s talk boobs. We all have them. Before my surgery mine touched the floor. OK not quite but they hung to my waist for sure.  I can’t remember a time my breasts didn’t hang like that, for the first time ever I have hardly any under boob, I have perky breasts. And my nipples, seriously, night and day difference. Pre Reconstructive surgery I had inverted nipples that hardly ever came out of their shell of boobage, now I have these pert nipples that get hard all the time, it’s cold, it’s windy,  I took my sweatshirt off, I opened the refrigerator door. It’s constant and at first it was actually painful when it happened. That is where the touching thing started. When I told my plastic surgeon how painful it was when my nipples got hard she told me to work on de-sensitizing them by touching them.

Let me pause here and say that I am a very tactile person.  There is something I can’t explain that makes touch a more important sense to me than anything else. I remember as a child lying next to my Grandmother rubbing a scar on her arm that was softer than the rest of her skin over and over again. I’m the type of girl who loves to cuddle and touch and if I find a place on your body that is softer, a raised bump or something like that, I will just rub it constantly, back and forth with the pad of my finger. I’ve had partners that used to smack my hand away after I had rubbed the same spot for so long that it had driven them crazy. I’ve been called a “rubber” on more than one occasion. Even when I sucked my thumb I used to curl my index finger up and rub the tip of my nose over and over again for hours. I can’t explain it I’m a freak.

So I was told to touch my nipples to desensitize them. And I started doing it. Whenever they would start hurting I’d reach in, rub them, and try to warm them up, make them not so hard, and desensitize them. I must say it works. I have less reactive nipples months later. I also, appear to me fondling myself constantly.  I was sitting here at the computer today and suddenly I realized I had my hand down my tank top and was rubbing my left nipple back and forth just like I did to the tip of my nose when I sucked my thumb, just sitting there in thought, idly rubbing my left nipple with my right hand.

When I realized what I was doing I burst into laughter. All I could think of was… crap; I bet my household thinks I’m crazy because I’m constantly touching my body. But it’s all new to me and I am just learning it. I’m not masturbating, it’s not sexual, it’s… exploratory! I can squeeze my whole boob into my hand without having to lift it or anything! My stomach feels flat. I can feel bones and muscles I never felt under my skin before. I can see my muscles move when I do. I can feel them flexing if I have my hand on them as I move.

I’m learning my body and I’m a touch oriented individual. So apparently, reconstructive plastic surgery turned me into Al Bundy only instead of having my hands down my pants in a comfortable resting post I have them down my shirt. Now that I have realized this, I of course, I’m a little embarrassed about it. But then I thought, why should I be, I mean, how the hell do you learn your own body if you don’t touch it.

If I lost my sight this is exactly the way I would learn my body, and for me, seeing it in the mirror doesn’t work for that, not for me, that’s why I take pictures because I see the changes in myself more in photos than in the mirror. And that is why I touch myself and explore my new body with my hands. Because it FEELS different, my skin feels different on me, and my body doesn’t feel the way I expect it to when it is touched, so by touching it myself I am learning how my new body works and responds. I touch my boobs, I touch my sides, I touch my inner thighs, I caress my body where all my scars are on a regular basis.

So yes, I am touching myself.

Yes I am playing with my boobs and learning my body.

The only issue I really see with that is why someone isn’t else doing it for me. I jest. But only a little.

And for those of you that are really uncomfortable with the fact that I am talking about playing with my nipples and fondling my breasts in a Christopher Columbus fashion, well, let’s just pretend I am practicing self-breast-exams and call it good eh? DSSPostSig

Its All About Me

It’s all about me.

I know it sounds selfish, but let’s be honest. It’s the truth. I’m not the type of person to candy coat things and sugar coat it and make it sound better than it is, I’m just the type to call it like I see it, and the truth is, that right now, where I am in my life, it is all about me.

It’s been about someone else my whole life. Whether it was the Family I was trying to get along with, the guy I was trying to get to love me, or about the job I was doing to put food on the table, it was always about someone else, making someone else happy, and putting myself second, third or fourth on the wheel of importance.

Right now, life is about me, it is about what I want to do, what makes me happy, what my goals are and those that are in my life, realize that isn’t a selfish thing, it’s a necessary thing. Right now I have to do what I want to do, because if I don’t I am going to resent the hell out of anyone that gets in the way; that’s the truth of the matter.

Right now, whether it’s I want to weigh 150 lbs  I want to wear a size 7. I want to be famous.  I want to meet Chris Powell.  I want to be a personal trainer.  I want to run a half marathon. I want to buy a house. I want to go to Disneyland.  I want some new jeans, whatever it is, right now if I want it, and you are standing in the way of it or you try to talk me out of it, or you are not super supportive, then I want very little to do with you.

There are some of that will read what I am saying and understand it. There are other’s that will read it and judge me and think that I am one of those people who lost a bunch of weight and got a big head and a big ego and thinks too highly of them-self  That’s OK  The truth is, that I have never thought enough of myself to ever demand that I be a priority, not to anyone else, and most definitely not to myself.  Right now, I believe that I have made other people a priority for so long that I forget every once in a while it is okay to make things about what *I* need.

Just look at my travel schedule for the next few months. I’m off to Ohio to visit with HJ and her Family, and then I’m in DC for a week so that I might be able to do some stuff for the OAC. I am home for a week, then off to CA for nearly six weeks so that I can be there for an event that is very important to Tom, spend some quality time with him and do some work around his house for him. Then I am back in OR for a week before I head off to the Cooper Institute for my classes. I could have been at those classes a lot sooner than June, and the truth is, I wish I had been.  There is nothing I want more right now than to be back at Colin and Tora’s; to hold my niece for an hour or so in the evening before everyone settles down for the night; to take my nephew to the park and play baseball with him; to sit with Tora and feel that peace I have with her where no matter what I say she always understands it, and yet I postponed going there to make sure that I took care of what everyone else needed from me first.  I’m very excited about visiting with Heather’s Family, I’m happy to see Tom and spend some time with him, but more than anything I want to be in Dallas with my chosen Family, taking my classes, and getting ready to open the next chapter of my life.

There was a moment in my past where someone who I love deeply looked at me and said to me “I need this to be about me right now,” it was one of those moments where I thought, how selfish, and yet, I conceded. I realized at that moment, that what this person I loved so much was about to do was so scary for them, such a big step forward, such a huge leap of faith in us; that really, it wasn’t selfishness, it was fear. Now, I realize, that there are times, when what you are doing or about to do is so big and so important to you, that your world, your bubble, as I call it just needs to be about that.

That is where I am. My bubble has gotten smaller. My goals are more focused, more local. It’s taken me a few weeks of soul-searching and reflecting to figure it out, it’s taken me finding silence in both world and my mind, to get to these answers; but I have found them.

My Father told me that there were three ingredients to life’s happiness, my Mother, me, and the fact that he absolutely loved his job and enjoyed what he did. My Father set the precedent for how I wanted to be loved. He brought home gifts for no reason; took my Mom out to dinner once a week never missed a birthday, anniversary or day he should have bought a nice gift and brought home a card. He planned family trips, played sports with me, and always told me there was never anything I could do so wrong he could stop loving me. He taught me I was a Princess, and not in any sort of derogatory way.Right now, everything is about me, it is about what I want, what I need, and what I have to do to get there and the people who I am surrounding myself with are people who are as devoted to those things as I am.

He taught me that there is such a thing as a job that you want to get up for each day, look forward to doing, and enjoy, and I’ll tell you; there is a part of me that smiles at the realization as I am type this.  Most of my readers know, how connected I feel to my Father when I exercise, but most specifically; when I run.  These “talks” I have with my Father when I run, sometimes they are just exactly what I needed to figure out whatever perplexing situation life has thrown at me. How funny it is when you think about it really; my Father’s words to me lead me to Gastric Bypass, that lead me to exercise, which became so many things to me that I decided to make it a career as well. Seems no matter what, I’m always finding that these lessons my Father taught me end up being true in the end.

Right now it is all about me, about finding the ingredients to Life’s happiness; and that’s exactly where my perfectly imperfect self needs to be right now.

DSSPostSig

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About (Pandora) The Author

Author of Desperately Seeking Slender
Jaime "Pandora" Williams

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