Conflicted Feelings

I met with one of my best friends this morning for coffee. We get together every Friday, and it's seriously one of my favorite moments of the week. I don't know if she knows that or not, but it's true. Typically we meet up at my friend's office at 6am, grab our Bibles, catch up for a bit, share the burdens on our hearts, and then hopefully dive in to the Word together. This morning was no different, except for one thing...I forgot my keys to my friend's office. So instead of a conference room we met at Starbucks. 

When we got our drinks (a grande sugar free hazelnut iced coffee with milk for me, and water for her - my drink was far better, but her's was a lot easier to type out!), we made our way to our chairs. Since it was 6am we had our pick of where we would like to sit, and Ginny headed straight for the big comfy chairs. 

I panicked a little. 

See, I've never been comfortable in the big comfy chairs. When you're 400+ pounds, your hips are too wide for anything to be really comfy. But because these are the "big comfy chairs" you can't really speak up because, hey! These are the big chairs! And did I mention how comfy they are? So you sit, and try not to fidget while your hips begin to bruise. 

I can't tell you how many times in my life I've tried not to fidget while my hips began to bruise. And that sentence alone makes me want to cry. 

So I walked over behind Ginny and took my seat. To my utter astonishment, not only did my hips not come anywhere near the sides of the chairs, I could actually put my arms down between my hips and the chair sides. I couldn't believe it. I fit. 

At one point in the conversation, I leaned forward and put my elbows on my thighs. This sounds pretty banal to put in a blog post, but guys, I've always had too much stomach for my elbows to touch anything let alone my thighs. I've only ever leaned on tables. Now I can lean on me! This is a totally new body position for me. 

Every time I drive a car, my first step is to push the seat all the way back in order to give my stomach and butt enough room to cohabit the front seat. This past week I've been spending my time scooting the seats forward. I get to drive with my whole foot, not my toes. 

I've lost 67 pounds, and while I should be thrilled with all of these changes, and for a moment I am, I can't help but feel like a stranger in my own body. Today it has hit me harder than other days. I keep telling myself "I'm still me. I'm still me. Just a smaller version of me. But I'm still me." Only to look down and see so much less of me than I ever thought possible. And I know I'm going to lose so much more weight. 

I've lost just over 25% of my excess body weight. I've felt ribs coming out, run further than ever before, climbed onto structures I wouldn't have even dared 100 pounds ago, and danced around like an idiot at the computer generated voice telling me I was finally under 350. 

And today I have wanted to cry. 

Before it's always been because I was overwhelmed with joy. And I am. I'm truly shocked and excited about my weight loss. 

But today it's because that little joy stealing voice in my brain whispering that I'm not Kelly Lynch anymore. I'm too small. And too vulnerable to be her. Kelly Lynch is a strong woman who can take on the world and come up smiling through the bruises. But this girl. This girl who used to weigh over 450 pounds, and now weighs 345 pounds. She's not me. She can run, and climb, and sit, and stand, and do all of the things Kelly wished she could do. 

Identity is a tricky thing. My identity has betrayed me. I was always just the fat girl. And don't get me wrong, I'm fully aware that I still have 200 pounds to go, but it's not 300 pounds anymore. I'm 40 pounds away from where I was in high school. I tell people I'm 32 and they don't believe me. I can't fit in most of my clothes, but I'm terrified to give them away. Shopping was always so hard when you are the largest size in the plus sized stores. Now I have no clue what size I am, and I'm afraid of finding out. Because it means I'm not that girl anymore. So who the hell am I? 

I can give you a LOT of very correct answers to that. Remember, I have both a degree in Biblical Studies, and a degree in Psychology. I basically majored in Identity in College. Wanna play theological or psycho-social, I can hang. But that 12 inch dive from my head to my heart is a whole 'nother thing. Going from cognition to knowing is a much longer journey. 

So today I keep just telling myself that I'm still me. I'm just a me that understands the attraction to big comfy chairs now. I'm the me that sits a little closer to the steering wheel. And I'm the me that will continue to look like a homeless person if I don't go shopping soon. But I'm still me. I'm Kelly. And I'm not going anywhere. Even if I feel like I am. 

And I can't tell you how much I need a hug right now.