I am SO sorry, my sweet friends and loved ones. I am NOT keeping up with this blog the way I thought I would!
But I'm here now, today, and have been working on this thing for a couple hours now trying to get all these thoughts in some kind of order.
First up. Let's talk about the job thing. It goes like this: I still ain't got one. I don't want to talk about it.
Now that we've gone through that, what's next?
WEIGHT LOSS UPDATE!!!
I am down 180 lbs at this point.
I am not losing as quickly as I was, but that is to be expected. Because if I was still losing weight at THAT alarming rate I'd be dead soon. Which was NOT a goal here. I'm past the 7 month mark where everything slows down. I knew this was coming and I'm not upset by it. I look and feel better than I have in a LONG time and I'm running with it.
I'm down, size wise, to the point where I can do things like go into a regular-sized-person-store and just buy stuff. Like a sports bra or a cute shirt.
What the actual fuck???!
You mean... I can just walk in, find my size, and BUY it? I don't have to order it online? I can pick it off the rack and try it on? There's no shipping? No waiting and HOPING it looks good? I can... know all that stuff ahead of time? And, if I'm looking for something specific I can go to a different store to try to find it? I don't have to just... get what's available where I'm at?
This is AWESOME! And surprisingly overwhelming. The last time I went to Old Navy I found myself wandering around with large eyes and fear in my heart. There are so many options! It was so chaotic! But, it was a HELLUVA lot cheaper than LB or Torrid and I actually found a couple really cute tops.
So... that's fucking bueno.
The weight loss is bringing about some side effects I wasn't actually prepared for. Mostly in the form of... uh... male attention?
Before my surgery I weighed 453 lbs. I was a BIG girl.
This didn't prevent me from finding at least one or two men who loved me. Who treated me like I was made of magic and satin. Who loved watching me running around in my undies and wanted to spend hours caressing my belly and gloriously bountiful ass. They're out there, but they're hard to find, and not what I'm gearing up to talk about.
The things I'm about to say may seem harsh, but, please understand
I'm striving for honesty and this blog is about me and my perspective.
I've spent 36 years in this body, watching the world through these eyes.
So... lets dig in.
In terms of male attention, prior to surgery, I was typically dropped into one of three categories.
1. friend/sister
2. totally unfuckable (and not worth time)
3. fetish
So now I'm in this really weird place. As I'm becoming more conventional/societal-y attractive I have been receiving more attention. I am so used to being friend-zoned, ignored, or not wanting the attention I was getting that I have NO IDEA what to do.
More doors are being held open when I walk in a building. More compliments come my way. The bartender gets to me faster. The store checkers are nicer. Guys, just generally, seem to touch me more. Elbows, arms, etc. Little things I didn't know I was missing until I started thinking it was disturbing that the men folks were paying attention to me. I LITERALLY had to have someone talk me out of thinking it was creepy as fuck that this guy was looking at me. No joke.
Oh, here's something else... turns out I'm completely oblivious to flirting. I literally don't even see it. I can't even tell you how many times people have told me someone was flirting with me and my reaction is "He WAS?!? How could you TELL?". But, according to feedback from those outside observers, it's happening more and more frequently.
I don't... I just don't know what to do. hahaha.
I feel like a high school-er trying to play a grown-up's game. I don't know the rules and, unfortunately, because I'm not ACTUALLY a high school-er, the other players THINK I do.
Also, let's be honest... I can't play games anyway. I just don't have it in me. I need blinking neon signs and no bullshit.
*sigh* In summation: I think this whole thing is fucking weird, I don't know what to do about it, and I'll probably stay single forever anyway because most guys don't actually carry around blinking neon signs that state that they are interested in me and... it's just fucking WEIRD.
I'm sure I'll talk about it more in upcoming blogs.
For now that's all I have to babble about.
I love you. I love your faces. You are the dreamiest!
Love,
Mamy.
