I'm fat.
Stop. A fact is a fact. I don't mind it so much anymore to be honest. I mean, like, I mind it but, I'm more accepting of it. I like food, I don't like exercising. OK I don't not like exercising. I actually am fairly good at getting into a rhythm and doing the thing. I just stop doing the thing after a bit. It be like that sometimes. You know- life just gets in the way- except... I don't have a life, so, what I think is getting in the way exactly- I don't know.
On to the point of this, because I don't want to drag my posts out. Heaven only knows how long I'll have you all here reading about rolly polly, thicky thick, old flabby butt, me for. I've been a heavy chunky mess since I can remember. I was a chunky little girl.
I mean... come on. Duchess was SUPER DUPPER DITTY DUPPER CUTE. CHONKY! Duchess was also hefty for her entire life.
Also can we just all appreciate that "Unbothered, Unimpressed, Unfuckitable" look I had mastered at such a young age?
I was born to be The Duchess.
Also, let's reflect on the absolute Unapologetic "I'm about to say these prayers and go sin like my life depended on it , ya'll gon' stay mad, fa-eva." look of this one ----->
As a girl, particularly as a Latina, my weight is a topic of conversation for people. I don't understand why it's something for them to opinion-ate on? but they seem to think it's their mission in life to do so. Particularly family. Although there was this one time I was in the Pharmacy picking up some meds and this random lady was staring at me. So I did that awkward "hello- can I help you?" smile (Ya'll know the smile) and she pointed at a bottle of ALIGN Weight-loss pills and said "you should take those." I'm not going to tell you what happened next. Somebody's Abuela went home crying, and it wasn't mine.
Why are they like this?
I don't know why. Especially when they need to be more concerned about why their marriages are failing, they husband got two families, why they kids are out here sniff sniffing that coke, stealing, eternally still in college, got yet another girl pregnant, or used their entire inheritance up in 6months because buying a car was more important. But by all means, the real problem is MY WEIGHT. I'm looking at all of ya'll. You can't just say "oh thats a beautiful dress!" You gotta follow it up with "Ay, you're wearing that faja right?" -_-
Or- and this one is my FAVORITE...
"You have such a beautiful face. You know if you lost 10 pounds you'd be so beautiful"
It's like they don't know how to compliment without back handing you with a criticism. Of course Latinos aren't the only group that does this. I think this is an overall issue for people. I just happen to be Latina, ergo it's the perspective that I give, the only one I am able to comment directly on. Because I have lived it, I am living it, I will continue to live it.
I think my weight really started to peak in High School. I mean I ballooned- Hard. Oh you think I'm exaggerating? Ok boo I gotchu...
Picture it, Prom 2006.
Here's me in the Gold dress. Had it "custom" made. The lady clowned me, I should have just bought my dress like I had originally planned. You live and you learn.
(notice I've removed faces- that's their business and their privacy)
No. I did not have a date to Prom. Guess what though? I don't need no damn date. I'm all the date I'm ever going to need so pop all the way back. Also, I didn't really like anyone in my school - or outside it like that. I'm super picky. But we may get into that later, let's hope we don't - this wine is slappin' right now.
Anyways, I was big. I had even lost some weight by the time this picture was taken. Point is, I've always struggled with my weight. By Graduation my weight had ballooned to a hefty 270lbs. I was 18 then.
Can I- Can I just- apologize for the state of that room? I just- I don't even know if I WANT to remember what that mess was about.
By the time I turned 22 I was fed up with it all. I wasn't happy with the weight. I'd done my fair share of extreme crash diets. I swear, one time I almost OD'd on Trimspa- I don't know how- but alls I know is- I couldn't stand, couldn't see and couldn't stop shaking. I decided that I was tired of all the eyes on me. I was tired of being judged because of how heavy I was. I was heartbroken in relationships. One guy said to me:
"You're everything I want in a Girl. But not physically."
BRUH. How does one recover from that? Let me tell you. You don't. Not Really. That reverberates in my mind in every remotely romantic situation I have ever been in since. It's not pleasant, it's not nice. It made me feel like I was great- but not.
I'd gotten to this point of no return. Where something had to give, something had to change. I needed to do something to change. I wanted to be happy so badly. I had equated my happiness with the number on a scale, or on a clothing tag. I was desperate. So I made my first appointment with a Bariatric Surgeon.
Yup. The Duchess had surgery.
I'll never forget that day. It was April 26th, 2011. Ya'll remember what happened 3 days after on April 29th, 2011?
No. Not that one, Fool.
Do you even know what year it is?
We'll discuss THIS one another time.
Yup. This one.
Now let us remember, I am a damn fool, and I was going to marry Harry at some point in the future. Now Will & Kate announced their engagement on November 16, 2010.
Wait for it... THAT'S MY BIRTHDAY!
Of course this is all meant to be. My surgery was scheduled for April 26, 2011 exactly 3 days before they were due to be married. I was going to be home right on time. In truth i was High AF watching it. You try not being fresh out of the Hospital and having to wake up at 3am to watch. I missed the Kiss... both of 'em- thank God for rewind. It was kismet though. Everything was lining up perfectly. I was on my way to being that beautiful woman I had always imagined I could be, because I was having my weight-loss surgery and I was going to be beautifully thin. Yeah, OK.
I had the personality already right? So like, there was no way this wasn't happening. So I made damn sure all my nurses and doctors, from the intake nurse right up to my surgeon knew... I had a wedding to be at in three days. Yes. Every single one of them looked at me like I had lost my damn mind. Which... I'd have had to have a mind to lose it in the first place, but I digress.
Day of Surgery; Weight 320 lbs.
Here I am 2 days after Surgery. Miserable.
I need to make it clear. I do not regret a single decision I have made in my life. Every decision I have made has lead me to where I am and has either taught me a valuable lesson, or continues to do so. That is not where we are going- stop jumping to conclusions. Relax take a sip and keep reading.
When I say miserable, I mean miserable. Have you ever had surgery? First of all, they don't let you sleep. I will never understand the whole "Hospitals are for resting and healing" thing. You don't sleep. All you want to do is sleep. Your body has been through trauma, it wants to sleep. I like to listen to my body and when baby wanna sleep Duchess sleeps. Just not in no damn hospital. So, here I was, smiling when my insides were on fire. I was so nauseous, I couldn't keep a sip of water down. I hadn't had solid food in a week. I wouldn't have solid food again for another 3 weeks, and that was blended chicken breast. Yeah, I was not a happy camper. Add to this- I had elected to have Gastric-Bypass. So my stomach was now the size of a golf ball. Ya'll seen a golf ball? It's tiny. Two bites and I'm done.
Before you are approved for surgery there are various requirements and hoops that you need to go through first. Depending on what insurance you have that could be a lot of them or a few of them. There are doctor visits, nutritionist visits, therapist visits- all of it. They even have support group requirements. None of this, for me (and I'm only talking about myself here, so, calmate), truly prepared me for what a drastic change this surgery would have on my body, on my life, on my mental health. None of it prepared me for it.
She wasn't ready.
Duchess was not. I repeat. NOT READY.
So around now, I imagine, You're thinking "but Duchess- if you weren't ready, why did you do it?" I'm glad you asked. In those days, at the very tender age of 23, I thought I was ready. I also ain't no Bitch- when I say I'm doing something- I do it.
You see; it's perfectly explained to you. You get to do your research, you do your homework- survivors even give you the low down. How could you not be ready. But you're not. It's not something that is out of this world different. I mean, your mind never quite adapts to seeing an 6-8 oz size portion of food and being like, "OMG, I'm gonna be so satisfied with this small amount." No. Your mind does not adapt to that. Firstly, have you even seen portion sizes in the US? Disgusting. Secondly, no amount of preparation will truly prepare you for looking at that small amount of food without getting depressed. Like I said, unprepared & unready.
I don't want to continue getting into the physical hard body truths of my surgery, I'll save that for another time. Six months post Op, I had dropped 80 lbs. I was so happy in those first months. You couldn't tell me nothing. I hadn't been that tiny in forever. 1 year post op I was down just over 100 lbs. Didn't mater I was still in the 200 lbs weight class. I was good. I had what I wanted. But something was missing.
I still wasn't happy.
"Duchess, but you look great!" I hear you say. Why thank you peasant, I appreciate you. It isn't about looks. It's a state of mind. I guess the point of this rambling is, I've learned that there are so many components to YOU. To who YOU are.
Happiness, is a process. It is a state of being that is not defined by what you look like.
It has taken me 9 years since I had my surgery to truly BEGIN to understand that. There are a lot of side effects to my surgery that I still grapple with- like I said we will delve into that at a later date. Excess skin is my major adversary right now. I hate that disrespectful bitch. How dare my skin not comply with the rest of me right? Here's the kicker- I had that weight-loss surgery. I continue to battle the weight demon. I'm currently bouncing between 218 and 230 lbs. Yeah, you read that right. Duchess goes up, and Duchess goes down and then Duchess goes right back up. Duchess is considered to heavy to have the skin removed. So Duchess is still too fat. That doesn't bother Duchess anymore (Ya'll know I'm lyin' on that one- yes it does).
But you see, I can have that skin removed- and you bet your ass I will. But when that happens, I will have gained an understanding that I didn't have 9 years ago. I am not the value of my body. And I am not going to marry Prince Harry neither.
I am more than the worth placed on my body.
In conclusion, it's been 9 years since my surgery. It's a Duchess-versary!
With Some Type of Love,
The Duchess
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