Why did it take me so long to be happy?

This morning was so very typical.  I woke up earlier than the rest of the family.  Got my coffee.  Got my protein.  Settled in for my peaceful hour and a half of internet, mindless TV and French Bulldog snuggling.  Seven o'clock rolls around and I swear that I'm going to change that alarm on my phone that goes off just in case I fall back asleep, because the song is so very annoying.  I step into kiddo's room and give her the morning snuggles that she and I have become accustom to, before making her roll out to the living room to get dressed while I make her cinnamon toast.  I threaten to eat said cinnamon toast if she doesn't start to hustle as we're in minute ten of her getting pants on ( an empty threat... she know it... I know it... I can't even eat cinnamon toast anymore!).  Again, a completely normal weekday morning.

Then, after being partially dressed and getting her toast, kiddo makes a poor decision.  A series of poor decisions, to be exact.  She does something she shouldn't, and then attempts to hide the evidence of the first poor decision with yet another poor decision.  I catch her in both poor decisions, and proceed to ask her why she would do such a thing.

Again, a completely normal weekday morning.

This is life with kids, and for what feels like the billionth time, I try to explain to her that she needs to think through her actions, weigh the consequences, and most of all that she needs to not be sneaky and try to hide her poor decisions, because it just makes everything worse.  THIS is the lesson I have spent the last 9 years trying to teach her.  THIS is the lesson I have failed miserably at trying to teach her, and THIS is the one thing that I cannot seem to get through to her.

We got through the trauma of the whole thing and she left for school with a hug and a kiss and a " let's not let this ruin our day" pep-talk.  And after she left, I was still struggling with this unattainable goal of teaching my daughter how to think through what she was doing in a way that wasn't destructive to her, to me, or to the rest of the world.  Then I thought about what a really HUGE thing that is to ask of anyone.  And then I thought about if I could do that.  And then I thought to myself "Yeah- ya know what... I AM doing that......

......But it took me 38 years to get here."

And that's the rub.

I'm quite positive that my mother had this same battle with me, and continued with that battle until such time as it was apparent that I either wasn't going to listen or that the chances of me actually destroying something dropped under a reasonable threshold of ten or fifteen percent.  Or until she didn't have the legal right to try to tell me differently.

I can recall the moment when I shifted into a full understanding that I needed to stand on my own two feet.  Well, to say there was one moment is an understatement, since I've dipped back into " mommy, I need your help" well a few more times that I would like to admit.  But, in general, I know the moment that I figured out that if I was going to move forward with this whole " adult" thing, I needed to step the fuck up.  I was 20 years old.  The details aren't important, but the end result is.  I knew that my actions had consequences.  Unfortunately, it still took me another 18 years to figure out exactly how big a part of my own life I really was.

In the middle of this whole to-do this morning with my daughter, she hid under a blanket.  This is a pretty standard response for her when she's in a situation she doesn't like.  She literally hides from it.  We've talked to her about this... tried to get her to explore her feelings about it.  It's not hard to understand.  She's externally replicating her outsides to match how she feels on the inside, and what she wants to do is not be seen.  She wants to hide from the bad feeling.  I get this in every imaginable way... wanted to hide all the bad.  The guilt, the shame, the embarrassment.   Feeling that way sucks, and most unfortunately, being a kid is full of those moments.

And again, this is a battle that I have fought repeatedly- how to teach my daughter not to hide from the bad feelings.  And- AGAIN- this is a lesson it took me 38 years to learn, so how in the world can I expect her to learn it at the age of 9!?!?

I do not begin to know how to teach her this thing that I can't even really grasp mentally, but I have embraced emotionally.  That OWNING the bad feeling has made me better, healthier, and happier.  That for the first time, a few years ago, I stopped hiding from all of the things that made me feel icky and started just putting it out there.  When I screw up, I own it.  When I'm unhappy with something, I say it.  When I feel something, I make it known.  I live a more authentic life because when something causes me pain, I completely possess it and that gives me the power to change it.

Sometimes, it doesn't turn out the way I hoped.  There is one particular thing that has happened in my life where this authenticity backfired on me.  I've lost someone that means a great deal to me.  I was honest about how the choices they made impacted me.  They thought I was being judgmental.  I stand firm on the fact that I don't think that a decade of staying silent  about the impact of their choices on my life is an indicator of being judgmental.  I wanted my new found authenticity to be a jumping off point for a better and more honest relationship between us.  They did not want the same.  It hurts.  It hurts a lot.  Sometimes it hurts so much that I want to go back under the metaphorical blanket and hide from it.  But, it took me 38 years to get here, and I can't go back now.

Here is the part that makes it difficult to teach me daughter about this stuff... that bad decisions have consequences.  Because GOOD decisions have consequences too. And sometimes decisions have absolutely NOTHING to do with any of it.   And sometimes you can actually do everything right.  You can live in the truth, you can bask in the sunlight of being honest and authentic and you will still get burnt.  Hurt is not completely avoidable.  Life will happen and no amount of authenticity will stop it.  And she will sit there one day, if she ever actually listens to me, and she will hurt in a way that is different than this hurt, because she's trying to do what her mommy told her.  She's living an honest authentic life and life is still going to punch her in the gut sometimes.

The thing that it took me so long to figure out is that these two things are not mutually exclusive, and that it was consistent denial of an authentic life that was leading to a consistent unhappiness.  I stayed under that metaphorical blanket so long that I was blinded by the mere hint of light.  If I don't hide from the bad stuff, the bad stuff isn't as bad, and even when it is bad, because life happens anyway, I have so many great moments where I am free that it doesn't all seem like a horrible existence overall.  Bad things become bad things and not an indicator of a bad life.

And that is why it took me so long to be happy.

Now, I have to figure out how to make my kid understand that.  I'm no closer to answers, really.  And while my current resolve is that maybe it's not a completely failure that my 9 year old hasn't learned what it took me 38 years to figure out, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying.  Because, after all, I would hate for her to miss out on that kind of happiness for the next 29 years.

So, I guess I have to show by example, and that is what I'm going to do.  I'm going to keep notching away at this particular parenting problem.  And- maybe someday- I'll accept that enough time has passed that she's below that 10-15% threshold of destruction.  And- many years from now, she'll write a blog post about how she's finally got things figured out...

and I'll laugh and laugh and laugh ( just like my mother is likely doing right now!).

Courageous Women

I have a few women in my life that this latest blog post is inspired by.  Each of them with very different paths, very different lives and very different types of courage.  A friend searching for a new career path that gives her the room to meet her children's needs and her own. A sister who is about to become a published author.  Another friend who is in love, but struggles with her own sense of self-worth in the face of unrequited love.  And myself, who is finding myself in a new space where I am taking on challenges I never thought I could or would and putting myself as a priority in that new space.

My personal life- guru, Dr. Brene Brown, talks about courage by explaining that it comes from the latin work cor - which means heart, and describes that courage is about telling the story of who you are with your whole heart.  This idea resonates with me:  that being authentic and being honest about who we are and what we want (and need) from life is more important than we allow it to be.

A few weeks ago, on a random Tuesday, I was feeling particularly great about myself.  I was bopping around the house, listening to music and cleaning.  I was feeling the impact of the changes I've made over the past couple of years and just had this 'Wow, I really am awesome' vibe.  Suddenly, I thought about some of the people who have come and gone from my life over the years and how shitty they treated me at the time.  For the first time ever, I felt kinda bad for them.

Please, don't get me wrong.. I'm not trying to be conceited or full of myself or vain.  My thoughts were initially centered on those kinda 'if they could see me now' thought that run through our heads as things like 20 year high school reunions loom around the corner.  And, like thoughts do, it just sorta meandered into the place where I thought about how I would act and what I would say. And it was then that I felt bad for them, because in my new-found confidence, I could see that they wouldn't really recognize me.  And then, my thoughts turned instead to why I had never felt this way before.  I have never felt bad for those people!  In fact, my heart is still filled with love for them, and it's never occurred to me that they were missing out on something.  In fact, it was quite the opposite.  And suddenly I realize something about myself that I had never realized before.

(Ready... because this is a big one.)

I made it acceptable to treat me badly.  In fact, I made it the standard.

Let me go back for a minute and explain by simplifying it.  Let's say I had a crush on a guy.  It would generally stay just that... a crush.  A torch I would carry alone and silently.  A one-sided love affair.  Only in the light of my new-found self-esteem can I see why so many of my relationships-that-never-happened existed like this.  I accepted some bullshit idea that I wasn't good enough to be loved back.  What I put out there into the universe was that nobody should have the fortitude to have to deal with loving me, and that expecting them to love me would be a failure on two fronts:  I would be be both unrealistic AND forcing someone I loved into a miserable life where they would have to tell the world that they picked me.

I told myself that NOBODY should have to live like that.  I loved those people so much that I never expected them to love me back.

What is even crazier ( and again, I can only see this now) is that even after I found a man who loves me ( and married him!) I continued in this line of thinking.  I spent years thinking that this man was a saint for loving me, or thinking that I had fooled him into thinking I was someone who was deserving of his love and that someday he would figure it out and move on to a more worthy woman.

This was not just in romantic relationships either.  This existed in friendships and work relationships.  Honestly, I treated people like being near me was a sacrifice, and I was just grateful for their ability to be seen with me.

So, back to the courage that I was talking about.  In relaying this discover to my friend, we were talking about wants and needs, and how those lines can get blurred from time to time.  We can tell ourselves that we don't "need" certain things, but many times, that is a mask that covers up the fact that our deepest wants are really a need that we deny ourselves.

I thought I wanted someone to love me.  Really, I needed someone to love me.  But, in that denial of my own story being told with my whole heart, I told myself that it wasn't a need.  I was denying who I was and what I needed because I simply felt unworthy of having that need.

My sister's book, Queer Virtue, is about to be released.  Her book is an examination of the parallels between being queer and Christianity. ( Shameless Plug, because she IS my sister!  http://www.queervirtue.com/ ) In anticipation of the book, she is releasing a series on mini-sermons that touch on some of the subjects in her book.  The first was released last night and is titled Identity.  She talks about how people are called to be themselves within Christianity.  She describes that this call to embrace ones identity is not just cornerstone of the LGBTQ community, but requirement of the faithful.   Her two-minute video describes that these two things are not mutual exclusive, and they do not exist in the vacuum, and these are shared values between two communities that sometimes feel at odds with one another, but share this core value.  I thought about my recent discovery of self-denial and how tied into my own lack of self-worth it was.  These two things are absolutely the same thing.  Identity is courage:  Telling the story of who you are with your whole heart.  Regardless of someone's position on religion or faith, there is a truth that exists.  The path to fulfillment lies in our ability to be exactly who we are, and let the world see that entirely.

Today, after several weeks of life getting in the way, I was about to make it to Meatball Thursday- a recent tradition with some friends of mine where we meet at Ikea for cheap Swedish meatballs and great conversation.  One of my friends was discussing her job- mostly that it just was not working for her life and she is seeking a path toward something that works for her and for her kids.  Inside that conversation, I mentioned that with her amazing history of homeschooling her two boys, maybe she could look at leading some home-school centered classes.  In the middle of the conversation, she needed to run out to her car, and she came back with a brilliant idea that both suits her perfectly and fills a need that is under addressed.  Really, her idea was perfect for her.  I'm not sure if this is something she is going to pursue, but again, it made me think about courage.

So many times in our lives we are called to make choices that we simply shouldn't have to make.  And so many times, we make choices based on that idea that wants and needs are mutually exclusive.  Especially parents, who wear the title of sacrificial lamb as they tread water for years and years just hoping for the day when their sacrifice is recognized and rewarded.  But, we also see the other side.  We watch people who take the risk and make a life for themselves that encompasses their wants, and they seem like they have a more fulfilling life.  We watch in envy and convince ourselves that, for whatever reason, that is not a life we can have.  We deny ourselves of our needs, convincing ourselves they are wants, because we do not feel worthy.

If my friend pursues this idea, or something else that works for her life she will be doing something courageous.  She will be telling the story of who she is with her whole heart.  She will be setting out a path for herself that fulfills both wants and needs.  Because sometimes they actually are the same thing.

Yesterday, I ran a mile.  I don't run- or that was the story in my head.  I wasn't graceful or cat-like.  I was awkward in the way that a person who has never ran anywhere but to the store to buy ice cream would be.  I was a lumbering size 16, fresh from losing 68 pounds.  I've never ran that far in my life.  Today, I felt it, and ran 1/2 a mile despite the pain from yesterdays run still fresh in my legs... and back... and hips... even my eyes hurt a little.   Both of these days, I had moments of self-doubt and fear.  Fear that people would judge me.  Fear that I would hurt myself.  Fear that my new found ability would turn on me in unexpected ways.  But, with every step, I found a bit more assurance in what I was doing.  I was writing a new story for myself.  A story that I would tell with my whole heart.  I stopped telling the story of the fat girl who doesn't run, because that is not the story I want... and it's not the story I need.  There were moments where I stopped to catch a labored breath and I started going back to that same story:  the one where I could be the fat girl who walked the rest of the way.

But, then, I would change the story, because in my heart, I want to be the girl who runs.  I want to be the girl who told boys that I loved them without fear and without self-doubt.  I want to be the person who says that my identity is who I am meant to be and to be anything other than that is a slight against the universe. I want to be the woman who strikes out on her own to make a career for herself by making my own rules.

I want to be the person who tells their story with their whole heart.

My (completely biased but un-paid-for) review of Genepro Protein

I was Sleeved on Dec. 1st, and to date I am doing fantastic... 66 pounds down... full of energy... feeling great!  I credit the trifecta of WLS:  Water, Walking, Protein...


Protein.  Protein haunted my dreams for months.  I looked at the prospect of protein shakes with the apprehension of a nearing apocalypse.   So, I went in search of protein that I could handle.  I would love to tell you I tried them all, but I didn't.  But I tried a lot.

I tried:

Premier Protein
Isopure
Syntrax Nectar
YEAH!
Muscle Milk
Isogenix
GNC Lean
Protein2o
Unjury

Plus about 5 others that I was given samples of by other people that I can't recall the names of.

Excuse the language, but protein powders are like assholes... everyone's got one and they swear theirs isn't gross.

For me, protein became a mission.

My FIRST moment of enlightenment with protein came in the form of my Unjury sample pack.  Contained within my samples was "unflavored", and I honestly thought to myself " Great- can't even be covered by chocolate!", but I tried it with some coffee and it was.... tolerable.  Also, it wasn't that terrible bitter-sweet flavor that other proteins had.  EUREKA!  Maybe it wasn't the protein I hated... maybe it was the FLAVORING!

But, there was still a problem.  There was a LOT of powder to get in, and moving forward I knew that I would only be able to get down a little at a time.  Looking into the future, I saw it taking me and hour or two to get this stuff down.

By the way, my foresight on this was smart, but I couldn't even begin to understand how little I would be able to consume after surgery.  Please, if you are considering Gastric Sleeve, go and put 4 ounces of a thick liquid in a cup and take a really good hard long look at it, realizing it can take you at least 30 minutes to get that down.  If the shake you get ends up being 8 ounces or more, you are going to have a bad time.

 So, I went searching for something concentrated.

That is when I found Genepro.  I random search of a Bariatric Weight Loss board and I saw rave reviews.  30 gr. of protein in a tablespoon- I was intrigued!

I went off to do my research, and I found exactly the kind of skepticism that I needed to make an informed decision.  There were people who were doubting the claims... as well they should!  Even a base understanding of physics can make you understand that it's not possible to get 30 gr. of protein in a 15 gr. serving.... right!?!

I don't buy snake oil, and I looked at their own claims with a grain of salt.  So, while I waited for their samples to arrive by mail ( Yes- they have samples for $4.50- try before you buy! http://shopmusclegen.com/genepro-sample ), I went to search out each and every claim they made, and here is what I found:

* Note- I'm not a scientist, but what I found is the findings from several sources, including my own Nutritionist.

When we ingest protein, we don't absorb it all.  Generally, we only absorb about 30% of it.  When your nutritionist tells you that you need to be getting in 60 gr. of protein, that 60 gr. is with the end goal of your body actually absorbing 18gr. ( or 30% of 60).

The KEY to all of this is the idea of NUTRITIONAL EQUIVALENT.

Now, what if there was a protein that you could absorb more than 30% of?  That is EXACTLY what Genepro is.  It's broken down, and their studies and the independent research is showing that the human body absorbs more like 90% of Genepro's broken down protein.

So, back to the math.  If what a human body needs to absorb is 18gr. of protein, and the body absorbs 90% of Genepro, then you actually only need 20 gr. of Genepro to get the same amount of protein as 60gr. of any other protein source.

Now, maybe you can understand how they get 30 gr. of nutritionally equivalent protein into a 15 gr. serving.... because it's ACTUALLY 10 gr. of protein that you absorb 90% of, instead of 30 gr. of protein that you only absorb 30% of.  Got it?

So... on to the nitty gritty ( or not so gritty... yeah!!!)

Does it taste horrible?

Well, no... but I won't lie... it doesn't taste like nothing.  There are some people who think that flavorless is the same as tasteless.. it's not.  There is a taste.. to me.  There are some people who say it has no taste, and I don't think that is true.  BUT, it's better than... well... everything other thing I've tried.  And because it's only a tablespoon, you can get it out of the way fast... and I'm totally a "get it out of the way" kinda girl!

I have two ways I take my Genepro.  At first, I did little "shots" of it.  I got a shot-glass size cup,  put in my Genepro, filled it with water, and a very quick squeeze of a Crystal Lite Squeezable product ( Okay- it's time to fess up.. it was sugar free Tang... because I'm like a 9 year old!!!).  At first, I was getting some chunks, and I just pushed my way through it.  Then, I did a little reading and a little experimentin' , and I figured out the best thing to do.

First of all, it tastes better cold... but it dissolves better in warm ( NOT HOT) liquid.   Next, I found out you need to add Genepro TO liquid, not liquid TO Genepro.   Solution?  I mixed it with warm tap water, added the Genepro  to the liquid ( not the other way around), added the squeeze, stirred with a fork ( a fork works best).  Then, I add ONE ice cube and let it melt for a few minutes.  Now, I have a perfect shot... dissolved... cold...and I can get it down in two quick swallows.  THIRTY GRAMS OF PROTEIN DONE IN SECONDS!

Once I was through my first month post-op, I abandoned one of the rules, and went back to my beloved coffee, and this is where my Genepro truly shines!  Every morning, I have the same routine.  With my Keurig, I make a 10 oz. cup of strong coffee.  I have two cups... one small and one large.  I put the small cup in first and let it brew the first ounce to ounce and a half.  Then, I swap out the cup quickly and put under the large cup that I will sip on for the next hour or so ( because it takes me that long to drink a cup of coffee).  I put in my splenda and fat free cream in both cups, and my one tablespoon of Genepro into the smaller cup, and wisk it around with a fork.  It's important here that the coffee not be really really hot, or the Genepro will curdle a bit, so adding creamer first gets it to the temperature where Genepro dissolves well.  If you don't use cream, I recommend a little bit of cold water.

Again, I'm sensitive to the slight flavor, so I don't want it in my full cup and would rather just get it out of the way.  I get in that small cup just standing in the kitchen.  Again- my 30 grams of protein- DONE!

I can't say enough great things about this product.  I know that looking at a 90 day jar at it's $100+ pricetag seems like a lot, but that's only about $1 per serving, which is really very reasonable.  I have had my 3 month post op bloodwork and it has come back perfect in every way.

If you have struggle with finding a protein supplement that doesn't make you hate the world, please please please try this product.  I promise you that you will not regret it!

Twenty Truths About Weight Loss Surgery

I've made no secret that I had Weight Loss Surgery in December of 2015.  To date, four months and one day later, I have lost 65 pounds.  The  how I feel, how I look and how I approach life has completely changed.

As I walk this path, I can start to see certain truths in a way that I never saw before.  So, here is my list of 20 truths behind Weight Loss Surgery.

1.  It's NOT the easy way out....

I don't know where this idea came from, but it's a pervasive one.  Interestingly, I don't think I've actually heard a skinny person ever say this, and I've only ever heard the "Easy Way Out" commment from people who struggle with weight.  I could go on and on about how this is tied to some idea that fat people should have to face some sort of punishment for their weight, and what this says about our culture... but that's a blog post for another day.

Instead, I will simply set forth an "easy" 45 day challenge to anyone who has the idea that WLS is an easy way out:

• We'll start you off with an all liquid diet for one month.  This would be your two-week pre-op diet and two-week post op liquid diet.  While we quickly learn that every surgeons approach is different and some are more lenient than others in the pre-op requirements, but this is the industry standard. By the way, all of that liquid has to be low fat, low carb,caffeine free, non-carbonated,  low calorie and high protein, 
• In the middle of your month, you need to go and have major surgery that removes 85% of an organ of your body.  If you can't make that happen, try having a friend punch you repeatedly in the stomach for a similar effect.  Immediately after this, you are expected to get up and start walking... and don't stop.  Ever.
• Also, while you are at it, for the second two weeks ( representing post-op) you can only take in about 1-2 ounces of any liquid in any given 30 minute period.  And, you can't use a straw.  And you have to get at least 64 ounces of water in a day... but not 30 minutes before or 30 minutes after taking in any of the liquid you ingested that contains protein.   Seriously.  Try it!
• After your one month all liquid, you may now have soft foods.  Only soft foods.  Still low carb, low fat, no caffeine, low calorie and high protein.  At this point, you will be eating about 600 calories a day.  Also, every bite you take in needs to be chewed into a liquid.. about 40-60 chews per bite. Oh, and you should call that friend to come and punch you in the gut every time you eat anything, because that's what it feels like.
• Easy, right?

If someone can tell me what part of this challenge is easy, I'm all ears.

2. .... but it is easier.

Okay... I know what I just said.. it's not the easy way out.  But that doesn't mean it's not easier.  How can these two things co-exist?  Well, there are a few ways.  First of all, after the difficult pre and post-op all liquid period, you lose weight... fast.  I lost the first 35 lbs in that month.  That's a three-to-five year old child that I took off my back.  Anyone who carried around something that size for years and got it off their back that quickly is going to be able to move easier, because they have the muscle memory to work harder on moving, and working out becomes much much easier.  Also, the fact that you simply cannot physically eat as much will make you almost automatically calorie deficient on any given day.  Even now, I can eat a MAX of 1000 calories a day, but I burn 1500 just existing, even if I don't get my consistantly-shrinking-ass off the sofa.  

Additionally, my new tiny tummy comes with a Pavlovian response that has quickly conditioned me.  There are things I cannot eat because they make me feel terrible.  Like," I have to lay down and I feel sick for a few hours" terrible.  Fortunately, many of these things are bad for me anyway:  Sugar. High fat.  Carbonated drinks.  It's easier because my sleeve is that friend who punches me in the gut every time I eat something I shouldn't.

Also, and this is controversial, but there are hormonal changes that happen.  Not every doctor agrees, but basically there is a hormone that is released by the stomach that tells our brains we are hungry.  If you have Gastric Sleeve and have 85% of your stomach removed, you also remove 85% of that hormone production organ.  Simply put, I never get physically hungry. 

So, to pretend that this method isn't easier would be a lie.  A person who doesn't get physically hungry and even when they do they can't eat more than a few ounces and working out is easier because they are pretty buff from all that weight they just shed quickly.. the "easier" factor is at play.  And here is the plain old-fashion truth:  Nobody would be able to do this without Weight Loss Surgery, because it would be torture.  That is what makes it easier, but not easy.

3.  You lose weight really really fast...

Especially at the beginning.  So fast it makes your head spin.  There were days in those first couple of weeks where I would lose 2 pounds in a day, and another 2 the next day.  It was shocking.. and addictive.

4.  .... and  yet it's not fast enough.

It doesn't matter how much progress you have made.  After such extreme losses in those first few weeks, you suddenly become disappointed at what would be, by any other standard, an amazing success.  A two pound loss in a week is perfect in the "normal" world. but in WLS world, that feels like a miserable failure compared to those weeks where you lost 10 pounds.  I have joined dozens of Weight Loss Surgery forum boards and social media groups, and on a daily basis I see the posts.  " I'm 30 days out and I've only lost 25 pounds".  It just really messes with our sense of "normal".

5.  Stalls are torture... and universal

Most Weight Loss Surgery people spend months ( or years) preparing for their surgery, and we watch and people talk about their "stalls" in weight loss, and it doesn't matter that we tell ourselves to expect it... we are still CRUSHED by it.  The first time has been dubbed "The Dreaded Three Week Stall" by WLSers.  It happens to everyone, and it sucks!  Especially since this is the time that we generally start eating something that doesn't require a spoon.  It becomes really easy to tie these two things together ( although they aren't linked).   Weight loss stops for a week or two and we feel like crap about it.  There is no emotional preparation you can do.  You will question what you've done and you will feel like you are doing something wrong.  And you will be doing everything right! This will continue for your entire journey.  You will stall for weeks... not a pound of loss for days and days and days.  Then, suddenly, one day, you step on a scale and you've lost 4 pounds in 24 hours.  You will do everything in your power to figure out what you did "right" in the past 24 hours.  You will try to replicate it and it won't work.  

There is no way to avoid stalls and no way to stop yourself from feeling bad about them. 

6.  You won't see your progress....

People will start to tell you how you are getting smaller, but you will not see it.  Even the pictures you take won't really feel like the progress you are seeing on the scale, in your clothes and in the looks on people's faces.  You will still be fat in your head... maybe forever.  

7. ... except in certain places.

Then, suddenly, one day you realize a difference somewhere in your body.  Most of these are NSVs- Non-Scale-Victories.  Big ones, like suddenly you can cross your legs like a girl.  Or you realize there are inches between you and the side of your bathtub.  Or you realize you can feel your clavicle bone.  Or you realize you actually have to struggle to give yourself a double chin.  Or you realize that walking is really really easy!  These are amazing moments that we live for!

8.  People treat you better....

Seriously.  I know that people don't mean to do this, but thinner people are treated better in general.  Suddenly, you realize that people respond more positively to you.  People smile at you more.  Men open doors for you.  In fact, once you become aware that you are being treated better by others, it becomes disarming.  For a brief period of time, I thought maybe it was just me.  Maybe it was my new positive outlook on life, or my new found confidence?  But, after reading many many posts my many other WLSers, I can tell you 100% that obese people are just not treated as well by the general public.

Also, you will get praise from a lot of people, and dealing with that praise can be it's own challenge.  I personally found it difficult to take compliments after years of being prepared with self-depreciating whit to protect my thin-skinned fat girl.  It is difficult to be a person who has been conditioned to try to hide yourself, only to end up being the focus of people's attention.  When that happens, you realize that this is much more complicated than just losing weight, and that you need to change your brain and spirit to match your new smaller body. 

9.  ... except for those who don't.

So, this is a tough one.  People who are close to you sometimes might not react as positively.  These reasons can vary, but here are a few examples of how WLS can be hard on loved ones.

• We feel good about ourselves- either for the first time in a long time or the first time in forever. Simply put, feeling good will change us into people who our loved ones simply don't recognize.  I had someone in my life make repeated comments to me about my new found love of makeup after losing my first 40 pounds.  It was hurtful because their comments to me were along the lines that I was being vain.  I've never been accused of being vain in my whole life!  It hurt that I was finally feeling good enough about myself to want to look nice, only to feel like I was being bashed for it.  Now, that person didn't mean to hurt me, but it did.
• There will be people who will not know how to handle a person who felt bad about themselves all the time, and now doesn't.  People with low self-esteem need to be handled much differently than people with confidence... and the people who love us don't always know how to approach us now.
• One friend, in an honest moment, told me something profound.  She said that she could see herself saying something that might hurt me, not because she wanted to hurt me or because she would begrudging of my successes, but because my successes highlighted that she's not having the same kinds of success.  This isn't the same a jealousy...  it is just a bit of a sting for her.  I love this friend for telling me this- it was a brutally honest thing for her to say.  I felt bad- I don't want this to make my friend hurt.  But, we all know that watching someone else succeed at something feels like it's pointing a giant flashing neon signs at our own failures.
• Some people will watch you like a hawk and question everything you do.  They will ask you if you are allowed to eat this or that, or tell you it's not 'healthy" to only eat 600-900 calories a day.  They will question you all the time to make sure you are holding up your end.  It stings a bit to feel like you can't be trusted to take on this challenge on your own.  Of course, this is also the same mentality that assumes that all obese people just lack will-power, which simply isn't always the truth.

So, amazingly, you can be treated better by strangers, and  very differently by loved ones.  Deep, right?

10.  Droopy Drawers

So, after that last serious topic, we need something a bit more lighthearted.  My underwear never fits.  I buy smaller panties and they are falling off me a week or two later.  This is a problem I feel like I just cannot get ahead of.  Your underwear falling off is not a good feeling- or a good look!  If you suspect a neighbor or a co-worker of having Weight Loss Surgery, there is one way to know for sure:  They will be the ones who are reaching into their pants to pull up their underwear every 4 minutes.

11.  You don't want to be "That Person"

The one who tells everyone how awesome WLS is.  You try really hard to not get all braggy on the subject.  You try really hard to not have it be the topic of conversation.. but it always seems to come back to your surgery.

Perfect example.  I love to go to restaurants.  Of course, now, my choices are  limited and I have leftovers that will feed me for days.  But, I still want to go out with my husband and friends.  Every time I try to go anywhere, the other person will say " Oh, no- where can you go, since I know you can't eat just anything".  Honestly, I can figure out something to eat at pretty much every place, and if I can't, it's totally okay because I'm likely not physically hungry anyway!  

Additionally, my surgery will come up as a matter of course of people talking about my weight loss.  I had a woman come up to me... a woman I don't know very well., but is, honestly, larger and would likely benefit from WLS.. and say in the most polite way " I hope I'm not offending you, but is your butt getting smaller?".  She didn't know about my surgery, and I told her flat out how what I had done and how well it's worked.  I tried to not flat out say " You should do this", because that would be both rude and presumptuous, but I basically said to her that it was the best thing I've ever done.  Now, if someone flat out asks me about it because they want to get it, I will go on and on and on... just like the people I know who had WLS did when I was getting ready for my surgery.  

Like becoming a parent, I am enjoying the process, but looking forward to that time where this new and different phase fades and I can return to being a normal person again.  So, I don't want to be that person whose life is all about her surgery, but it's difficult to avoid, and it's not always my fault.  

12.  Our perception of food consumption is, like, way f*@&ed up!

First of all, let's talk about how little we actually need to survive.  It was SHOCKING to me that I could get by and feel great on so little food.  I would look at my My Fitness Pal, have 300-400 calories on my all liquid phase, and feel like a rock star.  I kept waiting for that feeling to end.  I waited for the fatigue and horrible exhaustion that I thought would come with taking in so few calories..  That time never came.  I have not been able to consume more than 1,000 calories in a day in four months, and I still feel fantastic.  I think back now at times where I thought I had low blood sugar, or thought I was cranky because I hadn't eaten, and I realize now how much of that stuff is not an actual physical reaction.  Now, please do not get me wrong:  I am NOT saying "it's on our heads", because biological responses to emotional stimuli is just as real as physical reaction.   But, I am saying that the idea that we needed to consume so many calories just to get through the day is not that our bodies need that much.

Next, lets talk about what it's like for WLSers to watch "normal" people eat.  Again, I don't want to be that person- but now, with my tiny meals ( 4-5 ounces of anything at a time), I am completely shocked at how much people can really put into their stomachs.  I will go to lunch with a friend and I get a water ( honestly, it's just to because they look at you sideways if you don't get a drink.  Remember, I can't drink anything with my meals for 30 minutes before or 30 minutes after).  They get a sweet tea or a soda, easily 20 ounces of liquid, and they can polish it off in a matter of minutes... and I'm slightly taken aback by it.  Now, please understand, I DID THE SAME THING!  I could finish off glass of coke and need a refill before the order was even taken at a restaurant.  Now... well, now if I could have soda ( which I can't), that same glass of soda would take me an hour to finish.  I love my husband dearly, but have sat there, somewhat shocked to watch him eat a sandwich seemingly without ever actually chewing it!  Not only can I not eat that much, but each and every bite has become very purposeful, because if it's not chewed well, it doesn't sit well.  I begin to think to myself that I didn't really even appreciate food when I had a full sized stomach, because I barely took the prime opportunity that most people enjoy about eating- tasting my food!

Also, the sizes of portions are now shocking to me.  I ordered a "Petite Wedge Salad" at a California Pizza Kitchen that was ( I kid you not) on the "Small Plates" part of the menu.  I actually questioned the waitress if she gave me the right one.  This thing was easily a quarter of a head of lettuce, and I could only eat about 1/8th of it.  I consider myself very fortunate to say that I don't understand how I ever consumed that much food, and never even took the time to enjoy it.

13.  We are cheap dates....

The best part is how cheap it is to take me out for a meal.  I try to get kids meals when I'm out.. and when I do I only eat maybe 1/3 of it.  If there isn't a healthy kids meal option that I can have, I'll go for a soup or an appetizer.  A meal at a restaurant hasn't cost more than $5 in months.

14. ... who waste food all the time

I can only eat 1/2 a banana.  1/2 an apple.  Things that spoil quickly are so wasted on me!  And learning how to recook an appropriate amount of food is really really hard.  I am constantly asked in restaurants if my food is okay, simply because I can't eat very much of it.  This is a lesson a learned early:  If you are a person who had WLS but you like going out to restaurants, ask for a to go box right away.  I put away the food I know I won't be able to eat right off the bat.  It saves me from having to explain to the server staff, and keeps me from the regrettable moment featured in truth #15.

15.  One bite too much

When I had a normal stomach, one more bite was always possible.  Even when I said I couldn't eat another bite, I really could and it wouldn't hurt me.  Now, that is not the case at all.  There is literally a bite that if I put it in my mouth and swallow it, I will go from being happy and satisfied to needing to lay down because I feel horrible.  Just one bite... and even a small bite at that.  I have even put bites in my mouth and realized what I've done and had to spit it out into a napkin.  Learning that line is hard, but here is something even harder:  Learning that you have to leave that food on the plate.

I cannot tell you what conditioned me to believe that a bite on a plate is made to be put into my mouth, but it happens to me all the time.  I won't need to eat it, or even want to eat it.. but there is some strange drive in me to put that food into my body.  It is a very powerful drive. My solution is out of sight out of mind, and I either tuck it into the to-go box or physically make the plate go away.  This is something that causes mental somersaults, because you can KNOW you shouldn't have it, but resisting it is very much a mind-over-matter thing.

16.  Belly Fat is EVIL

So,, I've lost all this weight... 65 pounds.  And, I'm only down 4 pants sizes.  Everything in me says that I'm failing, because I feel like I should be smaller... and I am smaller... everywhere but my belly.  All of my clothes are way too big everywhere... except my belly.  I should be down another 2 sizes if I was going by how baggy my pants are around my legs and butt, but that "stubborn" belly fat ( that's a thing, ya know... they actually refer to belly fat as stubborn!) just will not go down.  So, none of my clothes fit properly.  It's super annoying!

17.  "I can see it in your face!"

You can look at quick weight loss like concentric circles.  You will lose from the outside first... face, fingers, hands, feet, arms, legs, neck.  Extremities will lose first, and that bitchy stubborn friend from Truth #16 will go slower.  But, that loss in your face makes a shocking difference in how you look.  People will tell you over and over and over again that they can see it mostly in your face... and it's the truth.

18.  Pre-op is long, hard, scary and necessary... Post-op is eye-opening!

For most people, having WLS is officially "elective" surgery.  We don't have to have it.  It's not technically required to save our lives ( although it does!).  There is something about that kind of surgery that makes going under the knife scarier.  I've had several surgeries, and none of them scared me like this one did.  Perhaps it's the amount of buildup to it.  For me, it was 6 months from first PCP referral to the operating table.. and that entire 6 months was about prepping for this change.  I became obsessed with finding the best protein supplement for me, practicing getting in enough water, and doing so much internet research I could tell you anything about WLS.  Going through all the requirements was torture, and insurance approval was torture ( I was denied the first time because of a mistake on my birthday on one piece of paper, delaying my surgery an extra month).  Getting my date was a moment of glee.  I finally new my timeline, and could prepare for my new life ( and say goodbye to my old one).

Two week pre-op all liquid is almost universally agreed to be the worst part of the whole thing.  You have your complete stomach and you can only have liquids for 14 days.  It really is just horrible!  But, all of this is a part of the process, and it's important to know that those days will become really important to you in the days just after your surgery.  Those days of feeling like you are going to die without food, in contrast to those days where you know you cannot eat anything ( and honestly, you don't want to) helps you to understand how much of our desire for food is head hunger.  Those days help us realize the difference.  I think that two-week pre-op was actually the most crucial part of my whole journey.  It tested both my resolve and pushed me toward making sure I didn't waste the thing that we find with truth #19.

19.  "It's a tool"

This is the thing that WLSers say all the time.  "It's a tool... not a magic wand".  Now, a tool can be used perfectly for days and days and days, and then be used improperly and ruin everything.

Remember, oh-so-many-pages ago, when I talked about it wasn't easy?  Well, I have to stay vigilant on what I can and cannot have.  I will lose weight no matter what in this first year.  But, there are ways to fail.  There are people who don't stick to the "rules".  They aren't working out.  They aren't getting their protein or water.  They are drinking and eating things they shouldn't be.  They are wasting their tool.

The truth is that by this time next year, I will be back to eating 1200 calories a day.  Still much less than I was before... but I'll also be smaller and will be burning less calories by just existing everyday.  Of course, my metabolism will be higher too.  But, if I go back to eating like I was, I will likely go right back to where I was before.

Someone I know who had Gastric Sleeve said to me something wise:  "Take advantage of those first 6 months, because you will never get that opportunity back".  I'm trying hard to do just that... take advantage of this peak time of loss and get as physically fit as possible to make sure that a year from now, staying physically fit is easier.

20.  This is more than just not being fat anymore.

So much of WLS is an emotional process.  You have no idea what it will do to you until it does.  For me, WLS made me a much happier and less stressed out person.  Seriously, my husband is shocked at how my whole personality has lightened after WLS.  I'm more positive, happier and let the stresses of life slide off my back much easier than I did before. I have read about people who get depressed in the month after WLS.  This is not my experience, but I can tell you that I have seen several people who struggled with depression before WLS who seem to revisit depression after WLS.

All of that said, here is the point.  Changing your body is one thing, but this is also changing who you are.  You have to change and challenge yourself to find success, and you have to change to deal with how others see you after WLS.

The Constant State of Being Wrong

This starts with a washer and dryer.

Well, not really, but that is where we will start the story.  A few months ago, my sweet husband and his friend traveled to my mother's house and hauled a very ( very!) heavy stackable washer and dryer down the narrow,steep and altogether treacherous stairs of my mothers antebellum farmhouse.  The washer and dryer was a gift from my mother, a replacement for the 9-year-old el-cheapo brand washer and dryer we have moved from home to home over the past 10 years.  A kind gift that made it that we didn't have to run the dryer 3 times to get a load of dry clothes.  We were grateful.  Well... I was grateful... husband was frustrated, weary, and grateful.  

Several months later and husband is a approached with a great deal for a really nice High-Efficiency washer and dryer set... much higher end than what we had then and what we have now.  But now, there is this hanging issue:  what do we do with the stackable set my mother gave us?  Give it back? Sell it?  

This story is full of nuances that might help understand the story a little more fully... the nature of the gift... the reason my mother had a spare set... relationships and burden on others....but all of that would make this a much longer post than anyone wants to read ( and I have more important things to say).  Here is the bottom line:  I was going to be wrong in some way... and that is a horrible feeling.

The nature of wrongness is something that we all deal with, although how we deal with it differs.  How I deal with being wrong has changed significantly over the past 2 years, likely as a result of changing my views on what it means to be wrong and what being wrong says about me.

Historically, I have kept my wrongness as a deep dark secret.  Wrong was a flaw on who I was, and had direct influence on my inherent value.  If I was a diamond, I would lose 5 points for the time I stole from my mom when I was in high school...7 points for that guy I kissed when I knew he had a girlfriend....91 points for that time I spanked my daughter.  And, on a long enough time span, my self-worth was diminished from the value of a diamond to the worthlessness of gravel.

And here is the simple truth:  I thought that if people saw me being wrong, they wouldn't like me, let alone love me.

There is a second part to the deep dark closet of wrongness, because when you hide being wrong, you also tend to hide the possibility of being wrong.  So, really, what I've done is built this giant, dark closet of lies and withheld vulnerabilities and fears and truths and confined myself into this space where I am defined not by who I am, but by what I have been able to hide from everyone.  

And resentments.

In those moments where I hid the possibility of being wrong, I would fail to speak a truth, and then would feel like roadkill that had been unwittingly driven over by someone who was free from those constraints.  And, as a result, I would become resentful of them... of their freedoms.  Why were they able to live in the moment and proceed in their lives... loved despite their wrongness... and I couldn't?

And, ya know, when I really think about it, that is actually a really huge part of what I've felt.  So much so that I'm going to say it again.

People like me... people who hide their wrongness and strive for perfection to reach some elusive state of worthiness have one gnawing issue that causes them to pull their hair out:  Why do people who are so wrong get loved anyway?

I mean... here I am... I've hidden away all my rough edges and I've put on this elaborate show... twisted and turned myself inside out to be the diamond that I think you want me to be.  And yeah... maybe you love me.... but you also love that incredibly flawed piece of gravel over there!

It is almost like I should never have been hiding all those flaws to begin with.

Now, here I am, learning my lessons and trying to grow and I'm letting those things go.  I'm starting over.  I'm being honest in the moment and I'm not hiding my wrongness.  Or my fear of wrongness.  I'm being authentic and vulnerable.

So, back to resentments.  Over the years, I've built up these resentments.  I recently have been working on letting go of many of these things, and with some people, it meant I needed to reestablish a new relationship.  One of these people recently accused me of being a list keeper.  My instant response to that was one of defense ( pretty standard response for a wrongness-closet keeper!).  But, after a wee-bit of processing, I realized that they were right... I WAS a list keeper.  Because I was hiding away all of this wrongness and fear of wrongness, I was also hiding away all of those moments of resentment I had over their wrongness.  I was absolutely a list keeper.

What they didn't see is that I'm trying really hard not to be a list keeper anymore.  I'm trying to start over without hiding.  Unfortunately, they don't understand that you can't start over without clearing out a big old closet full of shit you have been stocking away for years and years.  And they don't understand that I'm willing to accept that I might be gravel... and they've only known me as someone who wants to be a diamond.  I understand their position... it can't be easy to know a person one way, only to have them 180 on you.  

My sudden transition into this place doesn't mean I'm more wrong now than I was before, but somehow my wrongness doesn't hold the same weight as it use to.  When I'm wrong, I'm wrong in the moment.  It happens, I feel it, people end up loving my anyway, and I proceed through my life without worrying about the deep dark closet of wrongness. I don't strive to be wrong, but being wrong has stopped defining me.  

Of course, I could be wrong.

Stop the Blame

Two days ago, a 21-year-old man walked into a church in South Carolina.  He sat with a group of people that were unlike him in one or two ways, but just like him in a million others.  He sat there for an hour before he raised his gun to shoot them, killing nine of those people.

And, again, a nation is talking.  We are talking about mental illness and terrorism and guns and god and race and a million other things.  We'll talk for the next week or so... and then we'll stop talking.  Some celebrity will do something outrageous or someone will say something that will be overanalyzed by talking heads.  And a few weeks from now, this young man from South Carolina will go down in the long list of cold-blooded killers we have seen and his trial, his imprisonment, perhaps his execution...all of that won't matter anymore.

Right now, we stand here as a country and we all want to ask him why... but I think we all know the answer.  It's actually the same answer over and over again, but we can't seem to hear it.  It's not about mental illness and it's not about guns and it's not even really about race.  It's about blame.

In that moment, the million things he had in common faded away, and the one thing that made them different than them came into focus for him.   This young man was searching for answers in his life... like so many of us do.  We question our lives... why things have to be so hard... and we find something, or someone, to blame.

We blame republicans for being heartless

We blame liberals for spending too much money

We blame gay people for using the term marriage

We blame Christians for limiting science education

We blame Jews for occupying Isreal

We blame Muslims for causing wars

We blame atheists for taking god out of schools

We blame immigrants for taking our jobs

We blame men for limiting women's job potential

We blame women for getting child support

We blame poor people for using community resources

We blame rich people for not giving to community resources

We blame the middle class for being entitled

We blame anti-vaccine believers for diseases

We blame pharmaceutical companies for diseases

What is interesting to me, in all of this, is that not one of these things is real.  They are all reasoned away with particulars, but are never scaled for accuracy.  They are sound bites.  They are never about the individuals but are instead an evolution of a story into a stereotype.

When I think about this young man, I think about his story... the story I don't know for sure, and I can see it.  A young man, likely trying to scale the wall of poverty that exists for both black and white in South Carolina.  Education was a struggle for him... there could have been a lot of reasons for that.  But, overall, the systems that we as a society designed for him were failing.  He was aimless and struggling.  And somewhere along the way, someone said something to him that helped him focus.  Someone told him that there was someone to blame.  And for a person like him- a person who has all of the privileges of being white and all of the weight of being poor- the ability to blame likely felt like a relief to him.

As blame often does at first.

We all yearn for the ability to be free from the consequences of our actions, because shame is an awful feeling, and owning up to our own shortcomings is a daily reminder that not only are we flawed, but we are expected to work harder and dig deeper and overcome.  Blame is easier.

So, I imagine that this young man has spent the past year watching the news coverage, reinforcing these ideas that there is someone out there to blame.  He watches as others who have placed blame get a spotlight.  He sees other people who might not share his story, but they echo his sentiment. People call black folks animals.  Statements about the welfare state and black kids with XBoxs. His government flies a flag that memorializes a country that existed for four years and call it heritage.  A girl he likes goes out with a black guy and it wears at his already-wavering self-esteem.  He stops seeing people and starts seeing this all as a war against him and the life he could have had.

This young man's story is just like a million other people's story.  It's about who is to blame.  A cop starts to see young black men as a threat, then the young black men see the police as a threat.  Neither of them see the person, they simply see the blame and it makes them feel better- for the moment.

I am just as much a victim of this mentality.  I am a female, anti-religion, liberal, middle class asshole who believes in evolution, gun control, lgbt equality, and immigration reform.  I don't blame gays for destroying my marriage.... but I blame Christians for a gay kid who kills himself.  I am against the death penalty and don't want this kid to be executed for his crimes, but I blame republicans for this kid having a firearm in the first place.  I don't think that immigrants are trying to steal american jobs, but I blame the government for turning it's back on the mexican government's response to drug cartels.  I have no issue with pornography or sex on television, but I blame the media for putting out photoshopped images of women my daughter will never look like.

I have my own blame, and while my blame may not have the same results as others, the root is the same.  The blame has to stop.

Today, I was trying to explain to my eight-year-old daughter the difference between a good person and a bad person.  The truth is that it's not a clear line.  Good people are good until they aren't anymore, and bad people are bad... until they aren't anymore.  The best I could come up with is this:

Good people are good when they don't give up and don't stop trying.  Bad people are bad because they give up... they stop trying.... they make the decision that what they want to have isn't worth the effort, and it's better to just blame and take from someone else.  And each of us does bad things, until we decide to try again.

So, I'm going to stop the blame.  I'm going to stop blaming others for my lot in life... because that is what I would have told that young man if I had been given the opportunity.  I'm going to stop blaming my Catholic Education for my feelings about spirituality.  I'm going to stop blaming men because of that guy who inappropriately touched me when I was 13.  I'm going to stop blaming the rich for the lot of the poor.  I'm going to stop blaming everyone for my failures.

I'm going to stop blaming because there is blame enough to go around.  We all failed this kid, and we all failed his victims because none of us stopped blaming others long enough to notice that HIS blame was a problem.  And, for the next couple weeks, we will go around in circles on who to blame.  His dad who gave him a gun?  His mom who didn't help him with his drug problem?  I'm already seeing it, and it'll only get worse... and we'll miss the next kid who is coming down the line... he's watching those talking heads and that social media chatter right now.  He's watching as we blame each other, and we are currently reinforcing some idea in his head.  The kid could be white, and he'll blame Obama's speech.  Or the kid could be black, and he's blaming the media for calling this kid mentally ill.  We are breeding this... we are creating the Petri dish of blame that grows into the hate we see before us.

And I'm going to work really hard to not let this something else that fades into the background in a week or two, when I am tempted to blame a conservative Christian homeschool family for distorted sexual norms or to blame the attachment parenting mom down the street for a measles outbreak in Colorado.  Because I have to understand that my blame, at best, is just me giving up... and at worse is me reinforcing the blame for someone else who might not be equipped to handle it.

The real problem is blame.  Stop the blame.

Sex, Drugs, and Toilet Paper

Tonight, a proposition to extend LGBT rights and establish anti-discrimination standards in my adopted hometown of Charlotte comes up for vote before Charlotte City Council.  This vote has become a hot button issue and, of course, I have thoughts.

I was fortunate to spend 4 years in the Rehoboth Beach Delaware area, a mecca  of tolerance.  I remember straight college kids (usually boys) who were visiting, blissfully unaware of the predominance of LGBT community before their visit, making comments to me in restaurants I worked at  like " What's with all the gay people?", and my response gave me a satisfaction that I have not been able to replicate since.  "Here..." I would say" ..you are the minority.  Does that make you uncomfortable?"

In those years, I learned so many things about the LGBT community that I feel has made me a more complete person.  Before moving there, I had already learned the basics:  I had known that a person who was gay or trangendered was "born that way".  I had known that, too often, society placed an incorrect assessment that sexuality that was different than the norm somehow unraveled their  understanding of what it means to be human- determining that this was about sex and only about sex ( and that was and is a tremendous oversight on the part of society).  I had known that there were circles where people were not free to be who they are.

What I didn't fully realize is the impact that has a on a human being.  What Rehoboth Beach taught me is about what being closeted does to a person.... and how being free from that dark place can change everything.

There are remnants of those dark places that run inside the LGBT community.  Addiction, harmful and dangerous behavior, abuses... all built upon the foundation of self-loathing that exists when someone grows up in an environment where the do not feel free to be who they are.  LGBT kids so often grow up in an environment where they have to hide... and it isn't just within immediate families.  Even when there is acceptance at home, there are schoolmates, friends, the family of friends, churches, teachers, extended family.  Life becomes a minefield, and keeping quiet becomes the safer choice.  But, inside of that festers the darker place of shame:  that who you ARE is bad.

I wish that I could only count on one hand the number of LGBT people I know who suffer from this deep shame.  Unfortunately, that is not the case.  Inside the younger LGBT community, that kind of dangerous shame is the rule, not the exception.

When hot-button issues like this come up, there tends to be rhetoric that passes us by.  Of course, the problem with rhetoric ( and hyperbole in general) is that it removes the human element... yet each of us so completely understands the human element since our common link is that we are all human.  Each of us should have a basic understanding of what it means to carry the weight of that kind of shame around.

Can you imagine that shame that exists in being forced to use a restroom that you didn't feel comfortable in?

Legal proceedings, like the overturning of DOMA and Amendment 1 here in North Carolina, and legislation like that before the Charlotte City Council tonight, change the course.  The government acts as a mirror that is held up to our society to establish our own social norms.  When DOMA was overturned, it didn't suddenly made everyone who is against gay marriage reevaluate their stance.  What it did do was change the societal standard for the next generation.  In my daughters life, gay people can and do get married and that is just how life is and that is completely the norm.  Just as, in my life, white folks and black folks get married and have families, and the idea that they couldn't is completely foreign to me.

The legislation before the City Council will not make it that people suddenly feel comfortable with a transgendered person in the bathroom, but it sets in stone that we have a path we would like to see for our society:  that our children grow up seeing a world where they are not bound by what their society thinks they should be, and transgendered children do not feel the shame that their predecessors has to.  Legislation like this is our social mirror.

The most disturbing or rhetoric that I have witnessed has been the statements that this legislation will open the door for people (specifically men) with ill intent to dress up like women for deviant sexual purposes in public restrooms.  To this I have three thoughts:

1) Eww.... do you really think that what occurs in a woman public bathroom is sexual?  I fear that people instantly go to this mindset should worry more about their own ideas about sexual norms than other peoples, because it would never ever occur to me that a restroom would be a cornerstone of sexual impropriety.

2) Interesting that the main concern is what will happen if men get into womens bathrooms, but no attention is paid to the idea that women would dress up like a man to get into a man bathroom.  I think this speaks volumes about the social mindset regarding men, women, and the standards we set in the regards of sexual desire of each gender role.

3) ( and most importantly)  You will not often hear me speak about gun rights, but at some point, you need to speak on the same level as those you are arguing against.  Repeatedly, I have heard that the argument against gun control is that law abiding citizens should have their rights taken away because of criminals, and pointing to the idea that more laws are not going to stop criminals because they are criminals.  Well, what is good for the goose.....
A person who would do such a thing is a criminal.... the law is not going to stop them, just like gun control laws would not stop a criminal from using a gun to commit an illegal act.  If someone is so messed up that they get their jollies from going into an opposite sex bathroom for gratification, I doubt that what has stopped them is the fact that they aren't legally allowed to do it.  The assertion made is that suddenly public restrooms will be a place you should fear stepping into because you ( or your children) could be victimized at any moment.  Let's make this perfectly clear... sexual assault and sexually inappropriate behavior is STILL illegal, regardless of where it happens.  If you think that someone can do something sexually inappropriate in a public restroom and would not be prosecuted because of this new legislation, that your understanding of legal standards is severely lacking.  Again, back to the gun analogy.  Guns are legal.  Owning a gun is not illegal.  Doing something that harms another person with that gun IS illegal.  You aren't allowed to shoot someone in a parking lot and then say " But, I'm allowed to own a gun, so shooting that person was totally legal".  Ummm... no.

At the core of this issue comes down to what is right and what is wrong.  I am a woman.  I would not feel comfortable in a mens restroom.  It is not my place to tell someone else who identifies as a woman that they should feel any differently than I do, and to say that one persons comfort level is paramount to anothers is exactly what we need to overcome as a society.

I do not trump anyone.  We are all born with inherent worth and the right to dignity.  Our standards thus far in our society have sadly fallen short in that right, stripping dignity from others who we deem 'different'.  It is not until we realize that 'different' does not equal 'wrong' that we all become better, and we hand our children a society they can be proud of.