The Untold Side Effects of Weight Loss

I did not realize that losing weight also meant I’d be losing friends. I didn’t realize that self-realization and confidence would be a bad thing to people who called me friend, who purported to love me.

A month ago I reached my goal weight. As a celebration, as a personal gift to myself, I got a nose ring in my septum. I’ve always wanted one, but thought I’d look stupid, too fat, too ugly, too old to do something so “extreme.” But I’ve realized that it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. I feel good about myself and that is what matters. There are parts of me I still hate (I hated my boobs, the two nickel-filled socks that they’d become, but I got a reduction and now I love them!) like my belly, my legs…the bottom part of me is falling and I hate it…but I still love most of me. So I got the nose ring. I liked how it looked. It makes me feel good. Shouldn’t that be all that matters?

Then I get a message from this friend who says he loves me. He tells me that I look like a bull and if we were together, he’d make me take it out. That was the end of our friendship. I explained to him that you need not be rude (an inconsiderate asshole, really). If you don’t like something someone has done TO THEMSELVES what the fuck business is it of yours? Why do you think your hurtful opinion needs to be aired. I blocked him on Facebook and messenger…but I’m a nice girl. I unblocked him. I gave him time to think about what he’d said. I had hoped for a sincere apology. He really, really, really hurt my feelings. I thought better of him for some reason. I’m done being nice.

Last night, once again, he contacted me and told me that I had changed since I lost weight and he has never changed. He is still the same person he was 16 years ago. I cannot understand how that is a good thing. You have not changed in 16 years? You have stayed dormant that whole time? You know what I did in that time frame? I got a Master of Arts degree. I had 6 children. I fought with my husband, I made love to him, I went through therapy, I learned about my inner self. I grew. I expanded in both body and mind. Then I deflated the body. That is the only difference in me – my appearance and my strength. He tried to apologize. I would have accepted it. I would have been his friend. But then he had to throw in accusations of how I’d changed and how he’d loved me when I was fat, but now I’m just a bitch.

So…I’m going to be a bitch.

You have not changed. You are right. You still think you can become a rock star. You still think you are young, you are not. You are in your upper 40s. Your hair is thinning and you look like a fucking meth head.  Why would anyone want a man that still does gigs at bars in his late forties, thinks daily drinking is not a problem, has been arrested for beating his girlfriends (who are always liars), and doesn’t have a job that would pay more than minimum wage? You are a loser. I’ve been nice to you this long because I’m a nice person.

I can’t be nice anymore. You’ve shown me that. I have to be me. I have to realize that I am not responsible for anyone’s life but mine and my family’s. I am not responsible for how he spoke to me. I am not responsible for his insecurities. I am not responsible or answerable to anyone but my husband.

Understand that. If my husband hated my nose ring, I’d take it out in a second. No one else matters right now. He loves me for me, for who I am, for who I was, for who I will become. He has stood by me for nearly 24 years, and never once has he attacked me like my “friend” has. Never once has he told me I look ugly, I am a diva, or I am conceited (well, he’ll say that last one jokingly until I lose my shit, I fucking hate that word). He is the man I love, he is the man I will always love, there are no other men above him and there never will be.

I have a lot of love to share. I love many people. My friend took it upon himself to divest himself of that love. I am not responsible for what he said to me. I will not let it ruin my time further than this post. I have closed that door for good.

I didn’t realize that drawing the line at rude comments was such a battleground for everyone. Why do people think they have the right to tell people about their flaws? I love my people despite and because of their flaws and differences. I do not attack them because of these perceived flaws. I may give advice when asked (or unasked, I mean come on, I’m pretty nosey and bossy), but I do not see someone for the first time in a long time, who is smiling and happy, and think, now I will tell them that their hairstyle is ugly. Because why? Why?! Why would I want to hurt someone’s feelings for no reason? The only people who do that are inconsiderate assholes and I have no room in my life for those.

So, to conclude from this rambling madness – don’t piss me off and we’re good. If I ask you to stop, stop. If I say you are hurting my feelings, stop. If you apologize, don’t include accusations or further beratement. I won’t accept it. I will not accept emotional abuse on any level and that is what it is. No one has the right to question someone else’s decisions about their own bodies.

“I loved you when you were heavy.”

Well…ladifreakindah. Good for you. What a fucking saint. You loved a fat girl. Man, that’s some street cred. You can only love someone who thinks she is shit. Wow. We should throw a parade for you.

Ok so I’m still a little pissed. I’m still hurt. But I refuse to cry for him. At this point, after the last few months, he does not deserve my tears. So here’s to you, rockstar, you did what you set out to do, and isolated one of the only open and honest people you know. You’ve gotten rid of the one person who would tell you when you were doing something stupid. The one person who saw your flaws, and liked you despite them.

I’ve learned a lesson. Thank you.

So this is my post about learning something and a long, angry goodbye.