So last week I decided to do something extravagant for myself. I decided to have my stomach cool sculpted. In case you haven’t heard, it is that completely safe procedure in which approximately 20% of the fat cells in a targeted area are frozen and they die a slow and painful death; this in direct contrast to the rapid rate of expansion that they seemed to have undergone during my 40’s.
Anyway, cool sculpting is suppose to leave you several inches thinner with a figure reminiscent of when you were a “way before kids” 20 something. The problem with all of this is that it is hideously expensive… even with a coupon or two. But heading into my 56th birthday I decided I was tired of looking like a pouchy kangaroo and exercise just wasn’t taking care of it. Losing almost 60 pounds over the last few years also made my bad look worse in some places but exceedingly so in my stomach area. So I did it. I pulled up my big girl panties, added some glitter, and sauntered on in.
All I can say is thank goodness I took the mega strength aspirin an hour before check-in time. Who knew that your gut could be stuffed in something like a itty bitty frozen sausage casing and survive. As my belly went in the machine my toes curled causing massive cramping and I swear my head stood on end but after about 10 minutes my body slowly began to adjust to the pulling sensation. It was akin to wearing nipple clamps…or so I am told.
Finally after an hour of this self imposed torture, I was dismissed by the skinny blonde who has never had a weight problem a single day in her blessed life.
“Drink plenty of water,” said Debbie. “Remember, no strenuous exercise within the first 24hours (have I ever done anything strenuous?). And don’t be discouraged it will take approximately 3 months for the final results. Oh, and by the way you will have bruising and within a few days you will feel something akin to internal itching. Just ignore it. Eventually it will go away.”
So now, six days after the procedure, the itching has kicked in.Only it doesn’t feel like itching it feels like teeny tiny pinpricks are occurring throughout my abdomen. In addition, I look like a mule just kicked me. All of this is making me slightly on edge and somewhat discouraged…as if I wasn’t all ready!
Have you ever had once of those times in your life when the stars aligned and you met the right person at just the right time? Well, it happened for me today and not one day too late. In an attempt to find my zen, I went to the gym and as I was telling my classmates that I had this done, one woman piped up and told me she had her flank, stomach, and inner thighs sculpted. I almost fainted. She is older than me and let me tell you she looks FANTASTIC. Sure she weighs about 30 pounds less than I do but she tells me that the difference between before and after is amazing. In fact, she shared with me that she never told her husband that she had done all this and one day while getting out of the shower he took a good look at her and said, “What the hell has happened to you? You look amazing!” Of course, then she had to fess up but he thought it was all worth it.
Now I know we are suppose to love our bodies like we love ourselves and I get the importance of all that.It’s vital to develop those inner qualities which draw people to you like a moth to a flame. But unfortunately, for most women, loving your body is much harder than it should be for all those nonsensical reasons thrust upon us by the media and men. So when I think about all those wasted years when I was a young woman wishing my ass wasn’t so big, that my boobs were bigger, my legs were longer and my stomach flatter; well, it makes me kind of wistful and sad. Why couldn’t I just appreciate what I had going for me then, which, in truth sounds kind of hypocritical of me now considering what I have just done. But as much as I hate to admit it, even at my age, my looks do matter to me. Especially naked… so much so that I will no longer shower with B. And when I write that it makes me want to throw up…but it is the sad…sad truth. It is my reality. I know better but knowing it doesn’t make me feel better and it doesn’t make me want to skinny dip in the moonlight like I did when I was young. Frankly, as I age I miss those tiny pleasures in life and I yearn for that kind of spontaneity once more. And damn it I want to shower with someone again and have hot steamy sex while doing it. So instead of sitting along the sidelines, which I do a lot more often than I would like to admit; I want to throw off the those body images that are weighing me down. Obviously, this means I have to make some changes both inside and out to find the kind of acceptance that I have been lacking. I have been working hard at it. Discovering who I am but also who I want to be in this later part of my life and how I want to look.
But then one day I had an epiphany. It FINALLY dawned on me that being able to love my body at this age would be better than never having loved it at all even if that means being somewhat superficial and paying a lot of money to do it. Sculpting away my love handles and my kangaroo pouch is a gift for myself. It is something done just for me. Yes, it’s vain. Yes, there are more noble/worthy things to have spent this money on BUT at this age I’ve realized that feeling good about yourself is also important. Even more important…I finally feel like I am worth whatever it is I decide to do!
So damn the torpedoes I’m going full steam ahead in this life, no matter where it takes me!