I have been researching WLS for 2 years and I find the most comfort in your honest words. I have been to support groups, read books and watched TV programs about surgery. I have endlessly searched the internet for information and read articles and still I have found the most useful information on your website and in your newsletters. Thank you so much for doing what you do for me and for all of us.
— Sara A.

Just read your column and felt like jumping up and down, yelling and cheering you! I feel renewed by your sharing, which really inspires me and gives me hope. I am sure you don't know how many people you are inspiring!.
— Sherry C.

Through Thick and Thin #42 ( April 28, 2004 )

18 Months Post-Op, I'm Still The Same Man

My wife and I don't do a lot of group socializing. Kari has struggled to deal with the ravages of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome for more than 15 years now, and even when she has the energy to socialize, the cacophony of voices, fragrances, and sheer kinetic energy at a party can devastate her stamina. Also, I've learned to savor my own, and our own, quality “alone time”, and prefer small, intimate settings and conversations to parties. The food and eating limitations imposed upon me by my Testy Tummy also discourage us from participating in social situations planned around food.

So I was a bit anxious, on several counts, last Friday evening when we attended our first real dinner party since my WLS. As we drove to the affair, I noted in passing that I had never met any of these folks before, which meant that they had no idea of my former state of morbid obesity. (I've now lost half of my former weight.) I wondered, with a mix of curiosity and mild concern, how they would see me and how I would feel under their gaze.

It was so strange – and also exciting and powerful – when I walked into the host's home, was introduced to the very charming couples assembled, sat down to chat, and realized that I WAS THE THINNEST PERSON IN THE ROOM! I don't know why this should have been so surprising to me, but it was. And I felt this unusual and pleasurable satisfaction in knowing that unless I brought up the matter (or unless we played strip poker and I lost badly) none of them would ever know , or even suspect, that for the first 54 years of my life I was usually the FATTEST person in any gathering.

The next morning – the 18 month anniversary of my Weight Loss Surgery – I participated as a Dean delegate in our county's Democratic Presidential Caucus. I'm not going to get into politics here, but suffice it to say that I lined up for a chance to address the 500 folks in attendance to share my personal perspective on several of the more outrageous positions, actions and decisions of the Bush Administration.

I wasn't nervous at all about what I wanted to say – I've rehearsed my rhetoric every night when Kari and I talk back to the newscaster – but I was a bit anxious about my presentation. I've been an outspoken advocate for various causes and populations my whole life, and done so many press interviews, presentations of testimony at legislative hearings, and conference presentations that I have no fear about what I say. But I had always assumed that the source of my “power” as an advocate or speaker was directly tied to my (former) sheer physical bulk. I wondered, as I waited to speak, if my words would be received differently, or have less impact, coming from a man of more normal size. After all, I had lost 176 pounds. Surely there was a significant risk that my transformed size and shape would reduce the “weight” of my arguments.

I need not have worried. It was gratifying to see and really get that my physical bulk had NEVER been the true source of my personal power. My remarks were well-received, and I thanked my Higher Power (again) for this validation that WHO I AM IS NOT DEFINED – OR EVEN AFFECTED -- BY MY BULK.

If I had been paying closer attention, I would have already internalized this understanding. Several months ago, when I co-facilitated my first GUTS Teen Seminar since my surgery and weight loss, my co-facilitator expressed surprise that nothing about me had changed, except my weight and appearance . She had expected, on some level, that the transformation of my body would correspondingly change how I felt, how I acted, my self-presentation to the world, and my spirit (i.e. who I really was). I wasn't ready to hear and accept her feedback then, but now I know it to be true.

Eighteen months post-op, I now know these three things are true, at least for me.

I'm the same person now that I was before;

I struggle with the same problems and issues now that I struggled with before my surgery, with the notable exception that weight loss is no longer a concern; and

My Weight Loss Surgery was one of the most powerful acts of self-love I have ever taken.

Contrary to my life-long paradigm and misunderstanding, weight doesn't make the man (or woman). I didn't decide to have the surgery because I didn't like who I was; I had the surgery because I DID like myself, and wanted more life to live. Today, my reflection in the mirror truly matches who and what's always been there. The critical difference is that now everyone else can see that too…

Glenn Goldberg , VBG 10.24.02, 360/184 © Glenn Goldberg 2004

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