A Story of Recovery:

Mom Makeover

I am riding my bike the few blocks to the beach. It is dawn and the sun is about to rise into a glorious daybreak. My heart is hearing Pete Townsend on the ukulele as he sings, “I love every minute of the day.” I look down at my body as it easily maneuvers the bike, and I smile. My stomach is flat, my legs are slender, and my hips are proportionately curvy. I am wearing polka dot leggings that I purchased on clearance in the junior section while shopping with my daughter. I am 53 years old, and I look adorable.

I am enjoying myself and having fun with my husband and children. I am not controlling every activity or overstuffing our day with a flurry of things nobody really wants to do. When they say, “What are we doing today?” I can respond, “Whatever you want,” and mean it. It is not all about me any longer.

I could not always say those things while on vacation with my family. When I was 253 pounds, I could barely get my fat leg over the bike seat, let alone ride the darn thing for any length of time without having to get off because of severe “bike butt.” They just made those bike seats way too small! I could not even see my legs over my protruding belly, and my hips were a size 22W. (My little girl thought the “W” meant “wide” when she used to shop with me.)

My clothes were frumpy and matronly. I was miserable. I was cranky with my husband and overbearing with my children. I was critical and yelling at everybody, and I could not stand myself. I either did not feel I deserved the lovely little beach house my husband and I worked hard to acquire, or I felt that it was not the “right” beach house, leaving my husband feeling dejected after all he had done to make it happen for me so that my dream would come true.

I was not the fun and cool mom that I always hoped I would be. What was most painful was my inability to spend time with my family while in my disease. The worst in me came out when I didn’t have the distractions of being a self-employed, working mom.

Shortly after purchasing this beach home, I joined FA and found myself in a Saturday morning AWOL. I was lamenting to my sponsor that I did not want to miss beach time by doing this AWOL. In her infinite wisdom, she asked rhetorically, “How fun was the beach at 250 pounds?” She was so right about that.

I received many more gifts than a svelte body by staying in the AWOL. As I worked the steps, I could feel myself becoming the woman God intended me to be. The structure of the program gave me an anchor during my leisure time. My daily disciplines kept me centered no matter where I was. I felt comfortable in my own skin.

Today is the last day of our vacation. I made certain that my business had all the back-up coverage it would need, and so did my husband, so we are taking no work phone calls. We have spent many delightful weekends here as a family, and my husband and I will come here alone next month to celebrate 20 years of marriage. He is more smitten with me than he was when we met.

My 16-year-old daughter has three of her girlfriends with us this weekend. They are rising high school seniors, and they speak openly about intimate issues with me. I was invited by my 12-year-old son to take a friend of his to a nearby water park. Not my favorite thing to do, but I go because my son wants to be with me. Today it is about the relationship. I show up in a two-piece bathing suit. I am the fun and cool mom I always envisioned myself to be. Thank you FA!