I knew it was important to post my before and after pictures to make myself face the reality of where I've been, where I am, and get focused on where I want to go. It makes the journey real and worthwhile. Those results are tangible and measurable and seeing myself in all my fish-bellied glory is something that I needed to keep myself grounded and remind myself of why I work hard. Why I need to continue to work hard. As much progress as I've made, I am far from ready to kick back and take it easy.
Another reason I thought it was important to post the pictures is because it was challenging. It took me way out of my comfort zone, and that's where the most growth happens. My sisters joke that I am Amish or Mennonite because I have an aversion to wearing anything I deem to be too revealing, especially low cut shirts. They will argue that "low cut" is relative and that my idea of too low is anything lower than a turtle neck. This is a gross exaggeration and I will stand by that statement. Truthfully though, I've just never really been comfortable in my own skin. I've been ashamed and embarrassed and I guess I felt that the more I've been able to keep covered up the more I could protect myself...from teasing, from judgement, from any number of things.
The first step to getting over my extreme modesty was actually being in the car accident, and I was pushed head first into that when I was cut out of the Jeep, moved to a stretcher, and promptly cut out of my clothes in the middle of the street by members of the volunteer fire department and rescue squad. That is still one of the sharpest memories from that night - how cold it was and how mortified I was to be in just my bra and underwear with all these random guys standing around, never mind the fact they were probably more concerned with the bone sticking out of my leg. Anyone who has been hospitalized for any amount of time or has had a baby can attest to the fact that there's no use trying to be modest when you're hospitalized. The reality of being bed bound with two broken legs, unable to sit above 60 degrees for three months is that there are many things you simply cannot do for yourself including going to the bathroom, bathing, and getting dressed. I learned very quickly that unless I wanted to be dirty, naked, and covered in my own filth, I was going to have to accept help from whomever was available when these needs arose - be it nursing students who I had sold textbooks to (praying they didn't recognize me or remember me when I went back to work), somewhat creepy middle-aged male nurses, my Mom, my sisters... it took a lot of deep breathing and going to another place, it never got "comfortable", but it was eventually just part of my daily routine and part of my reality.
In more ways than just physically this blog has helped me put myself out there to the world. I've never been this honest and open about my life and my feelings and I think it's made me much more confident. Being honest with myself and the world is slowly chipping away the armor that I've so desperately clung to for so many years - especially since there's been so much positive response from everyone that has been reading my posts and following my journey. This journey has also been largely about learning to be strong and independent - learning to fly with my own wings, as my friend Amanda once told me. Not just standing on my own, but moving beyond that and truly soaring. When people see you flying with your own wings, she said, they take notice. I feel that when I'm writing and sharing my story with others is when I'm able to fly.
It's still a little weird to me though because I feel like I'm baring my soul to complete strangers and there are people out there in the world that know a whole lot about me and I don't even know their names. It's even weirder to think that people who I know from high school or college, or people I see everyday, have read my blog and now know way more about my life than even people in my family ever did. I almost feel like I should sit down with these people and get them to spill out their innermost thoughts and feelings. It's only fair right? Reciprocity isn't what this is all about though. At its core this blog is a selfish way for me to get my feelings out and reach out into the world and not feel so alone. By seeing that people are reading and commenting and sharing it with others, that's a fair enough trade for me. The added bonus is when I get messages and comments that I've helped someone else or inspired them in some way.
Writing comes easily for me, sharing my writing has been a little more difficult, but definitely worth the anxiety of hitting the "publish" button and instantly freaking out about how it will be received. It's humbling to check my stats and see that a post has been read by 100 people. To think that there were that many people who found what I had to say worthwhile amidst all the clutter of the Internet is pretty cool. When I checked my stats today and saw this, I was blown away.
I find it both crazy and awesome that in one day my story reached over 850 people (at the peak). If it made a difference to even one of them, or helped even one person decide that they were ready to change their life, then I would post a million half naked pictures of myself, every day of the week. (Don't worry, I won't - that's too much for even me!)
Thank you all for your support, encouragement, and for being my people to reach out to. I hope you'll stick with me through the next year, it ought to be a great one!
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