Just like everyone else, I go through my morning routine, but with one added challenge: tucking away the excess skin that hangs around my waist into my jeans. And this isn’t just a minor issue. Picture a few pounds of warm, stretchy dough secured around my middle, and that’s an accurate representation of my abdomen. (For clarity, the image alongside this piece isn’t a reflection of me — mine is far more difficult to confront, and sharing a real photo feels too vulnerable.) I’ve mastered the art of camouflage, so in most outfits, the loose skin is hardly noticeable. I select longer shirts that skim my upper thighs and always wear them untucked, paired with high-waisted jeans. If low-rise jeans ever come back in style, I’ll simply have to sit that trend out.
I teach fitness classes, but my gym wardrobe isn’t a free-for-all; I must invest in high-quality leggings that flatten out my skin like a tight bandage to prevent any unwanted jiggle. Trust me, it’s not just unappealing, it’s uncomfortable too. Swimwear is a significant hurdle for me, and if I ever wear a dress, you can bet I’m layered in shapewear underneath.
This journey began after my first pregnancy when I gained a staggering 90 pounds. Complications like pre-eclampsia left me swollen all over, and while some weight came off after my son was born, the scale continued to climb with two more pregnancies. By the time my third child arrived, I was nearing 300 pounds and feeling utterly defeated.
Determined to make a change, I gradually shed over 100 pounds over two years. I did get pregnant again and, despite teaching Zumba multiple times a week, gained back 50 pounds during that pregnancy. Fortunately, I was able to lose it again within a year and return to my pre-pregnancy size.
You might think this would be a moment of celebration, and in some ways, it is. I can now easily tie my shoes without gasping for air, and I feel stronger and more agile. However, the drastic fluctuations in my weight have left my skin in a less-than-ideal state. Skin can stretch, but it has its limits, and mine is adorned with stretch marks and sags like a draped curtain. I have so much excess skin that I can’t even gather it all with both hands. It serves as a constant reminder, holding back my confidence and creating a barrier for my self-esteem. There are times I glimpse my clothed reflection and feel attractive, but once the day ends and my shirt comes off, I’m confronted with the reality of my body.
I once watched a Dr. Phil episode featuring a woman who had lost significant weight but was met with disdain from her new boyfriend regarding her body. When he saw her extra skin, it felt like he was commenting on my own body. I remember feeling tears well in my eyes as I resonated with her pain; it echoed my insecurities.
I am incredibly grateful to be married to a partner who consistently expresses his admiration for me, flaws and all. He looks me in the eye and tells me I’m beautiful with sincerity, yet I struggle to understand how he can find my naked form appealing. After two decades together, he’s witnessed my body at its prime; the smooth, unblemished skin of my youth. How does he not compare it to the current reality and feel repulsed?
While I battle with these feelings, I remind myself that this loose skin is a testament to my journey, a symbol of my hard work and determination to reclaim my health. Yet, it often serves as a painful reminder that I don’t look how I wish to look, even after achieving my goal. My toned abs remain hidden beneath this excess, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t fully accept or embrace what my body has become.
I’ve considered surgery, but it’s not financially viable; plus, there are always risks involved. I don’t seek a perfect body or even yearn to wear a bikini. All I desire is to slide into a pair of jeans, button them up, and feel at ease. More importantly, I long to gaze in the mirror and love the reflection staring back, taking pride in my journey, which has been filled with ups and downs.
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In summary, my weight loss journey has been transformative, yet it’s come with its own set of challenges. While I celebrate my strength and health, I still struggle with the remnants of my past. I hope to someday embrace my body fully and appreciate the incredible journey I’ve undertaken.