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I think my next surgery should be a lobotomy.

My dad’s cousin is in town, and she hasn’t really seen me since the gastric bypass and the other surgeries. I mean, she saw me once, but it was pre-plastic and only for a second. So I’m suddenly acutely aware of how much I’ve changed again. And also of how I’m supposed to be, in others’ eyes.
For example, I know that gastric bypass means I should never eat sweets and I should only eat half-sized portions of everything. But it’s been like 7 years. I’ve learned how to eat sweets (unfortunately) without getting sick, and my stomach has stretched a little. I still don’t eat that much, but some days I can even eat a whole sandwich and chips.
But when I tell people about the surgery, or when people have heard about it and then meet me for the first time, I feel like I need to be extra careful to conform to their idea of how I should be. I also feel like they might be confused as to why I’m a) not that skinny and b) not happy with my body. Sometimes people look at me quizzically, as if they can’t believe that after all I’ve gone through I’m still unhappy with myself, probably the majority of the times I check the mirror.
I’m confused about it too. It pisses me off and generally discourages me to no end that I still feel like I need to lose 20 pounds, or, worse, that I find myself cruising my cosmetic surgeon’s website when my boyfriend isn’t around. I tell myself I’m just looking, that I definitely don’t want any more surgery. The truth is, I don’t want to recover from any more surgery. And I don’t want to feel like other people think I’ve had too much surgery.
Like my mom. I had what amounts to a heart to heart (for us) with her the other night, and she told me she hopes I can someday be happy with my body, without more surgery. Which is sweet, and I know that she means it, at least in part, but I also know that she’s uncomfortable with the plastic surgeries. And I think part of her is embarrassed of me, or thinks I’m being too vain, or thinks I’m taking the easy way out. Which is painful to see, but she’s never been good at hiding her distaste, so I can’t pretend to be all that surprised.
Anyway, for now I guess I’ll just keep at the working out, try to firm my skin that way, and try to stay positive. Which is tough, because I’m pretty sure no amount of exercise will firm my hips or lower back. But here’s my resolution: that’s the last time I’ll say that (or at least put it in writing) until I’ve really tried. If, after six solid months of serious workouts, my hips are still just as jiggly, then I give myself license to look into spending (hopefully not wasting) a small piece of my inheritance on non-invasive cosmetic procedures. (Anyone know anything about thermage?)

P.S. On a completely different note: I’m now Mac number 5 in this coffee house. There are 2 PC’s. And like 4 other people, laptop-free. It’s kind of sick. And Mac number 4 is playing his music way too loudly.

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