Fighting the good fight

May 25, 2009

I just got home from my weekend in Vegas with my sister. It was a wonderful time with her. I don’t know if I can remember the last time I had so much fun. It was much needed.

So Sara and I spent time each day at the pool. In planning for this trip, I first thought that because of the stretch marks that now cover my body as a result of the 100 pounds of fluids I gained within two weeks of hospitalization, that I would not be seen in my swimsuit without wearing Capri pants too. But after conversations with my sister about enjoying our time and being bold and confident in who we are, I decided to wear my suit and enjoy the sun and the water without the Capri pants.

And so I did. I walked to the pool and thought that if I carried myself with grace and confidence, people wouldn’t notice. I did my best. I wasn’t going to let my vanity keep me from having fun. Day two at the pool I began to notice more of the bodies around me. No one looked like me. I still tried to carry myself with confidence, but it was fake.


Day three as we were preparing to head down to the pool, I got teary eyed and told Sara I needed to talk. I didn’t think I could do it one more day. It took a lot of self-talk to go down to the pool like that when what really was going on in my mind was, “I am the ugliest person here.” I just didn’t want to fight the battle again one more day. I wanted to enjoy myself without being reminded and without having to struggle. I did, however, want to enjoy the sunshine and the beauty of the pool. So I donned my Capri pants and joined her. I sat in the sunshine, the heat building. Sara took a dip in the pool to cool off and I sat on the edge and stuck my feet in. We got back to our lounge chairs and I looked at her, “You know, I think I’m going to go change into my suit. I’ll be right back.” And so I did.

When I came down in my suit I got into the water and cooled off. I did what I really wanted to do. If all the people there with beautiful skin were laughing at me or pointing at me behind my back, then that’s on them. I told Sara half-joking, “I always try to make people feel good about themselves.”

I am not writing about this experience so people will respond and tell me that they think I’m beautiful. That’s very kind, but what has to happen for me is for me to believe it myself. And it takes work. It isn’t easy to fight the images (especially in Vegas people!) that surround me every where I go. Every day I have to fight the good fight. Sometimes it’s easier than others.