I see you, my commenters, posting in the comments of this post
in which The Fat Girl thinks about weight loss surgery. When there are fabulous blogs and posts out there like this one, you have to tell me about them
, my friends! I feel so out of the loop. "I'm kind of having fun being fat right now. I'm kind of having a lot of fun being fat right now. I am
rocking my fatness... So why haven't I chosen weight-loss surgery?... Currently I'm having a little bit of difficulty answering that question because I'm not really feeling any penalties of being fat other than residual emotional stuff, and I'm so enjoying all of the stuff surrounding fatness—getting to shock people by shocking about it, the thrill of the chase of fat clothes shopping, the thinking about fat semiotics, &c. Nevertheless, I think if the question were if I'd rather never have been fat, the answer would be affirmative. But that's not going to happen. And weight-loss surgery won't take away the pain I've already come through. It won't take away my stretch marks or my loose skin or give me unblemished years as a taut teenage beauty-ideal girl. I'm sad that I never got to be that girl. But weight-loss surgery wouldn't fix that."
The whole entry is great, so go read it if you haven't already. It seems like a lot of people are choosing weight-loss surgery these days (Robyn
of course comes to mind if you want an honest account of a very successful WLS experience) and as a fat girl, over the years, I've certainly thought about it. This despite the fact that I am terrified of surgery, and also the word "pouch," a kangaroo-esque word that I find creepy. But I don't know that I've ever been completely honest about what I would want out of it. Not necessarily surgery, which is basically off the table for me, but weight loss in general.
That's why this post hit me as such a revelation: I'll never get to re-live my childhood, or my high school years, or my college years, or the past year, as a thin person. Is that what we imagine surgery would do for us? Is that what I imagine losing fifty pounds would do? I do, I think, have this sort of concept of weight loss as retroactive. Like the new skinny me will override the old fat me, and she will never have existed. People will forget her, because she isn't the me they want to see. People will forget her, because I've admitted there was something wrong with her, and killed her off. People will forget her, because I will have forgotten her.
And goddamnit, I'm with The Fat Girl. I don't want to forget her. I dig her.