Decisions and Changing (Never say Never Again)

You know, I didn't want to do it. But I did. I knew I wouldn't be happy with it, and I'm not.

I don't really want to share it.

But I've discovered something in my life; the decisions I made and talked about the most were the hardest ones to back away from. Even when I was wrong.

A lot of people who didn't know me fifteen years ago don't know that I'm on my second marriage. The summer after my freshman year of college, I met a boy who really interested me. He was good look and more physically fit than anyone else I knew. He had those little ridges in his belly and everything. And for some reason, he was interested in me... even then, when I wasn't exactly fat, I was already deep in the middle of bad habits and weight gain. And I'd always thought of myself as being unattractive.

We didn't know each other for very long before he went off to Boot Camp, so I couldn't tell you really if he was psychotic before that, or if the Marines just brought something bad in him out. We got married the weekend I went down to visit him to tell him I wanted to break off our engagement. I thought after he bought a $700 diamond and we'd been distance-dating for the better part of 18 months that I owed him a personal explanation. I drove 6 hours down to South Carolina to break things off and drove home married.

Never again, I swore to myself, as I filed for divorce not even 6 months later. My parents were already divorced, and my mother had a horrible boyfriend who was married to someone else. (When he finally divorced his original wife, he bypassed my mom completely and went on to marry someone else.) Marriage sucked. Never. Ever. With Extra Capital Letters.

I was 19 years old and a divorcée.

It took a long time for me to change that decision. I touted it to everyone I knew. Marriage was evil, and I was Never Doing It Again.

I was also a baby-hater from way back... I can't remember when I decided I didn't want any child to be as miserable as I had been. My parents weren't very good parents. I try not to blame them for this anymore, and it's not always easy. But I swore. I hated kids. I especially hated babies. No children. Even when I fell off the No Marriage bandwagon, I didn't want children. Living where I did just reinforced it. In the months after my marriage (which I still felt mildly uncomfortable about...) people would ask me "So when are you having kids?" "Fucking never, that's when." I didn't say that, but I wanted to.

When Thomas and I had our infertility struggles and difficulty in getting pregnant, I didn't tell anyone. I didn't want anyone to know how badly I was failing... both in failing to be consistent about not wanting children, and failing to accomplish it after I'd changed my mind.

I thought what I'd learned was the value of being flexible. That by not stating my goals, I was leaving myself open to coming around to a different way of thinking.

On the other hand, a promise made to yourself doesn't have a lot of value. We change our minds half a hundred times a day and no one ever knows it.

So... in limited stages, I want to talk about my weight problems and (hopefully) my losses...

And because I really don't want to post this... I will.

Right Upper Arm - 14 inches
Waist - 46 inches
Hips - 52 inches
Right Thigh - 27 inches