Second breakfast and icecream before bed

When I met with my plastic surgeon 4 weeks ago we decided to move forward with a secondary revision. We will be doing a fat harvest from my abdomen and lipofilling my chest. My tiny frame and our aggressive approach in removing every last cell of breast tissue left my skin incredibly thin. I have no breast tissue, no fat, nothing but muscle, skin, and implants. This has allowed every ripple, contour, dimple etc of my implant to be visible to the outside world. The imperfections were something I had planned to deal with, but after much internal debate, I decided I owed it to myself to keep moving forward. Fat transfer is used often in post mastecomy patients in similar situations and they end up with beautiful, natural looking results. After coming this far why not give it a try?!

At the time we agreed to this procedure, I had my little 103 pound body evaluated and was told that I only needed to gain about 5 pounds, 10 would be better but at least 5. Being the overachiever that I am I decided to make 10 my goal! I knew it wouldn't be an easy thing for me to do, and it was every bit of difficult as I imagined. With 2 breakfasts (the hobbit life) a day, more butterfingers than I can count, many bags of chips, fast food, protein bars and shakes, ice cream every night before bed and making myself completely miserable, I hit my goal just two days ago! I can feel it, I feel heavy, my clothes aren't as flattering as they once were and I feel as if I am going to bust out of my pants! I was soo excited to meet with my surgeon today and boast at how great I did! To me, I look as if I have gained quite a bit of belly fat. Sometimes the way we see ourselves isn't the same as another may see us. This turned my excitment into anxiety.

Because my implants have dropped down to a more natural position there is even more tension on my thin layer of skin. The imperfections and ripples have gotten worse and I am in need of a layer of fat all the way around my implants. My very hard earned 10 pounds didn't reveal as much fat as hoped for..apparently I am more loose mom skin than fat so this is going to be a tricky one. With liposuction already being a not so pleasant procedure, my little bit of fat is going to make for a tricky harvest. She plans to take every last bit that she can And overfill my chest hoping it will be enough. Not too optimistic She said that it is possible that in time I could need second lipofill. Of course I asked if it was possible to store the harvested fat (wishful thinking), sadly that isn't a technology that has been mastered yet. I do know that this is it. If this surgery doesn't give desired results I'm done. I can't keep doing this to myself. I am tiring out and am ready to just live my life. It took all I had to get here and ready for this procedure. I don't have it in me to put my body through this again. My love for food has diminished and I can't wait to just have a salad and go for a run!!!

Surgery will be next Wednesday at 8am. Dr Hagarty will preform liposuction on my abdomen and use the gathered fat to fill or "graft" my chest. She plans to be as aggressive with the fill as my body fat will allow. It is best to overfill as a fraction of the fat will be absorbed over time. If all goes well and the pain is managable I should be released later that day. I was warned that my chest will be a bit tight and tender feeling but I will experience the most discomfort in my harvest sites. I will have to bind my abdomen for a good four weeks to reduce the risk of edema. While I should notice a difference immediately, we won't know our final results for about three months. It is then that we will rediscuss the idea of nipples. Currently I don't have enough skin to do the reconstruction and with it's current condition, I May not even be a candidate for tattooed ones. We are hopeful that this procedure will give my chest the buffer that it needs. I am coming up on the 2 year mark since I found that first lump. I remember it like it was yesterday. "Casper" changed my life. It has been a journey and one hell of a test, but I am making it!!! I had no idea it would be such a process or this is where I would end up, but I am so greatful to have had such an overwhelming amount of love and support through every step of the way. We are slowly getting there. <3

Almost there

My revision surgery is coming up quicker than I can wrap my mind around and I still have a good 5lbs to pack on to make the fat transfer as sucessful as planned. Having to gain 10lbs in a one month period sounds easy. Most of us do it around the holidays without trying. Once you are put under pressure and know a lot is put on the line over a number on the scale, weighing in daily to calculate your gain it isn't as easy as it sounds. Maybe I have developed one bad ass metabolism over the past few yesrs, but I really don't know how wrestlers do it!!

I have been bopping back and forth, getting excited over a growing number, then feeling anger when I see the scale dropped again from one day of not over engourging myself. This is strange for me as I have always lived my life with a different strategy. In my promise to be strong and healthy I've spent the past 4 years on a clean diet with a cheat day once a week. Little to no gluten, limited sugar intake, good fats, high protein etc. In our house if you wanted chips and dip you better like humus and pretzel crisps. Want meatloaf, great..it will be made with quinoa instead of crackers. Enjoy pizza, me too..I won't tell you the crust is gluten free. I have had to go against everything my body has known and this process has only proved just how great I actually felt eating clean, and how terrible preservatives and junk leaves you feeling. My body is in total shock. I feel sick every single day. I wake up nauseous, and have no energy. I have no appetite but have to force myself to eat anyhow. The second I relax and stop focusing on what to eat next, the scale dips again. With one week left before my preop, this is something I can't afford.

People have told me that they wish they had this issue, that most would love to eat anything and struggle gaining weight. But frankly this situation pisses me off! I have always struggled with the opposite! One slip up would pack on the pounds! I always had to be careful. I have faught with eating disorders my entire life and have always had to be conscious of what I put into my body in combination with my activity level that day to stay where I felt most comfortable being. I used to crave junk food, and then feel guilty for eating it. Now that I am put in a situation where I have to gain weight, and can eat all the junk and fat I want the scale doesn't want to budge. Why?! It is frustrating. Perhaps it is karma!

Thankfully I am half way there. As of today I have hit my 5lb mark (again). It has taken me three weeks to get here, and I have about a week to go to put on another 5. I don't know how I will do this, but I promise you all, I am trying with everything I have. I always try my hardest to take things in stride with style and grace. This one has me caught up a bit. I felt pure defeat the other night as I laid on the bathroom floor curled up in a ball clutching my knees crying in pain. We had homemade pizza on real crust for dinner that night and typically I would eat two pieces, but in my attempt to gain I had four, followed by a Butterfinger for dessert. I felt miserable so we went to bed early. Like most nights recently my goal was to go to sleep and sleep away the stomach ache. Except this time I couldn't, and eventually my body rejected everything I had consumed. I felt so defeated in that moment. I needed that food to stay in, I needed those pounds and my mind just couldn't override my body that night. But the next morning was a new day and I went right back at it.

I know this is a small fight, and to most it seems like no big deal. For me it is quite a battle, but nothing I can't get through. I am confident that I will celebrate with all of you on the another side in a couple weeks. I promise you all, as well as myself that I will reach this goal!!! This surgery will be the last one and will put me another step closer to finishing this chapter off with two cherries (nipples) on top. I am almost there!! I don't know that I could have made it this far without you all. From my co-workers who surprise me with baskets of junk food at work, and remind me to eat, to my family that checks in to remind me this will be over soon, to my friends that are there for late night texts when I'm crying and questioning my ability to finish this task. I can not thank you enough for your love, support, kindness, and making me laugh when I want to break down. We are almost there.

Learning to break down walls

I don't know what I would do without my writting. I have always written through my troubles and found such a comfort in expressing myself, even if no one reads what I have to say. It is the only way I can let myself be vulnerable and honest with my inner being. Much of the time I forget they are posted for public eyes until I feel the anxiety as I stare at the "post" button. I'm trying so hard to break away from my debilitating habbit of caring what others think. This past year has been one of the hardest for me, for a number of reasons. Then again nothing about my life has been easy. Not many know my past. While somethings are out of your control they do shape who you become. I have always fought hard to be the best version of myself. I am very self aware and am always trying to grow. My husband and daughter are my saving grace. They are my light in my darkest moments and remind me that life is beautiful. They love me unconditionally for who I am. They are my stregth and the fire behind this blog. I am falling. I feel the depression is creeping back and I am giving my everything to overcome it and find my silver linnings. I am surrounded by them. I know what eats me up inside and I am going to squash it into the ground. That small voice inside my head that makes me question myself will be laid to rest. I am ready to take charge. We all have moments of success and failure and we all have times where we feel happy or heartbroken. We are human. I think often we forget that. To never have hard times means never knowing the true beauty of the good.

My number one issue: I care. I have always struggled with letting myself shine for who I am. I have a hard time letting my walls down and allowing the world to see me as I am. I always feel as if I have something to prove, or that I won't be loved if someone knew the real me...the real inner being of who I am. I long to be liked and accepted. I spent years being told I wasn't good enough. I have learned how to co-exsist and wear a smile as amor. I put up walls and keep myself locked inside a cage constantly questioning myself. This wall is tearing me apart and I can't go on like this anymore. I have to break free so here goes. This is my step one.

I am Kristy. I was born a free spirit. The daughter of a navy man and an amazing young women from a small town. I am from San Diego. I miss the beach, and the smell of the salt in the air, the street fairs, the art and the acceptance that such a diverse city gives. I have never quite felt like I fit in here, and that's when my struggles began. I just wanted to fit in, and no matter how hard I tried, I just didn't, but eventually it got easier and I learned to adapt. I try too hard and care too much...about everything. I am open, I am honest, yet I sensor myself. I wear my heart on my sleeve and love easily and judge few. I give a mile to others and alow them to take two. I envy those that do and say what they want without thinking twice. I find beauty in their confidence and hope one day I can find my own. I am bright and bubbly yet hold a lot of darkness inside that I don't want anyone to know about, so I try to hide it. I am embarrassed by them, often fearing I would be seen as less of a person if people knew I cried in the shower that day. I give my everything and am a perfectionist. I am my own worst enemy and constantly find myself fighting with the voices in my head. I am edgy and weird. I'm quirky and easily excited. I am a smart ass, I am loud..and more often than not, I won't get your jokes. I am deep and complex yet love simplicity. I love high fashion and art and the fast pace of the city. I love jeans and hoodies and the simplicity of sitting in the grass outside watching live music as the day turns to night. I miss the smell of the burnt rubber on the race tracks of el cajon speedway. Every time I go to Chicago I don't want to leave. My record player is the best gift I've ever received. Music is my favorite medicine..it lights me up and leaves me feeling weightless. I feel high when I close my eyes, throw my arms in the air and dance like I'm the only one in the room. I get lost in books and feel infinate knowing I am not alone in this world. I am a free spirit at heart and need to break free from this cage. I am known for shutting myself down and becoming numb, often going through the motions of life as a means to protect myself and shield others from seeing what is weighing on my heart. I am affraid to let myself fall. I am constantly worried that such a stumble would make others think less of me. I am working on this. We are all struggling with something no one knows anything about. We all make mistakes, we all go through hard times. I am in that place and I am currently working on it. This year my goal is to embrace who I am for every piece of me. To have learned from my mistakes and to not only be who I am, but let others see who I am. The shy, the scared, the proud, the excited, the deep, the dark, the bright the happy. We are all many things, We are all unique. I am ready to find my light again. If you are around me in the future and feel I am different, or have changed..it is true. I am evolving and am working on finding myself. I am unlocking the cage and letting myself fly <3

Writting is my ground wire

Each day is another footstep marked on our road leading to the end. Some of our paths are sunny, others have moments of darkness. Some are strait and narrow while others are long and winding. Each is just as beautiful and amazing as the next. We all have our own battles, our own fights, our own uniqunesses. These qualities are what make us who we are. Why is society so set on being cookie cutter people always trying to be a mold that you're expected to be, rather than unveailing yourself and letting others see your true self. Be bright, be bold, be edgy, be you! Why isn't it as easy as it sounds?! The fear of what they might think is often what holds us back. If I am liked for the person people see me to be, then why can't I be liked for the person they don't see? I am still me no matter the case. Why can't you let your voice speak when you stumble? Because you will stumble if they know you are or not, so why should you cut yourself off from the world and allow yourself to suffer in silence, alone.

I will never forget when I read a comment pertaining to a teen cutting. The comment was "you better not be! You're better than that!". It is this ignorance that keeps those struggling in silence. Mental illnesses have nothing to do with someone being better than the next. Fighting a mental illness doesn't make you less than. And sadly only those that truly understand what it feels like are those that have been there.

Lately I have been trying my hardest to wear my struggle behind a smile and to show the world that I am ok. In all reality I am not at my best, but I really am trying my best. I'm fighting again and have really been trying to hide it. I have always turned to writting to keep me grounded through my storms. I told my husband that I just couldn't blog this one out like I do with everything else. He asked me why not?! Why couldn't I be transparent through this and hope to help another feel less alone, just as I have with everything else? I have been affraid to speak.

The number on the scale pulls me. It is a deep burning pain in my chest. Many know I have struggled with eating disorders through out my adolescence and early adult life, few know it will remain a lifetime battle with the occasional slip. Mental illnesses are much deeper than what is seen on the surface. Often I wonder if it is even real. And then I find myself sobbing and unable to breathe having a full blown panic attack for no reason. To feel the constant fight with the small voice in your head and to give all your energy to just fight back and hold your ground. Sometimes the voice wins and you stumble. To feel at war with yourself. Some days are easier than others.

I feared gaining weight to perform the liposuction and fat transfer to complete my post mastectomy reconstruction would be difficult. In fact, I know myself well enough that I knew it wouldn't be easy. I never anticipated it being this hard though. I had felt I had finally killed this demon. Turns out I had only found a way to coexist with it. I have a daughter and a husband, I have so much to live for and so much to give the world. I want to be healthy!! I want to be strong. I eat, and those that know me would laugh and contest my ability to outeat anybody! What many don't know is that I have made 105lbs my safety net for the past 5 years. I could eat what I wanted to as long as I never went over this number. 101 is where I feel most comfortable but 105 was the cut off. As soon as that number crept up I would become more cautious with my food choices to ensure I wouldn't come out on the other side. To some this number sounds sickeningly small, but for my size it is actually right in the healthy weight range for me. I know because I did my research when setting this goal. I know that I have to be a strong positive example for my daughter, and I promised my husband I would be healthy, so I made healthy my goal. I became an avid runner, I lifted weights, I ate what I needed to keep up with my activity level and keep me building muscle. I felt strong, I felt in control, I felt amazing! I felt that I had won!!! That is until I began my weight gain journey.

To admit that this isn't easy for me leaves me feeling small. The idea that I made it through infertility and loss, a hysterectomy and double mastectomy in my 28 years of life and am doing just fine but can't wrap my mind around gaining fat!? It sounds so trivial! It isn't a big deal! Why is it such a big deal?! I don't understand why it is so hard for me. I'm so dedicated to making it through this chapter of my reconstruction that I have been forcing myself to eat when not hungry, eating unhealthy foods to pack on the fat and really trying. I want to prove to myself that I am stronger than this thing, I can't wait to be on the other side. I thought I had this one in the bag. Then I weighed myself and saw I had lost some of what I had gained. I was failing. I typically buy healthy food choices and eat well, so buying Ice cream feels like a waste of money to me, like an unnecessary treat. Consuming unhealthy food choices on a regular basis is against everything I've grown used to in my quest to be healthy. I have began to feel my relationship with food shift and the change left me feeling as if I had spun out of control. I have been fighting bad panic attacks and feel a push and pull between positive optimistic me, and the darkness that dwells within. I try to hide that part of me. I had thought I was doing a great job until a co-worker confronted me asking if I was ok. When I had smiled and told her yes, she said nothing, but gave me a hug. Later I thanked her and told her what was going on. It was her hug that made me feel less alone, even when she didn't know what I was going through. Her acceptance and my husband's advice are what fueled me to write this blog. Our minds are the reasons we go through life suffering through mental battles alone. The fear that the stigmas surrounding them will haunt us and allow us to be alienated. I am writting this blog to tell you all that I am struggling, and I am ok. I am human much like the rest of you. We all have our battles. This is my story, and it isn't over yet; don't be affraid to let the world take part in yours. You don't have to be alone.

Gaining weight

It's crazy how we transition from one point in our lives to the next. When you become so used to the unknown and chaos that life returning back to it's old routine seems both exciting and frightening. It will be strange to have everything behind us. I crave that moment so badly. I've always lived in the moment and seen the silver linnings, or at least tried my hardest to do so, but here lately there's always been something we are trying to get through. Perhaps that is just life. If it isn't one thing, it's the next. Life is made up of a series of unfortunate events. Events that lead us up until the very end of our existence. It is up to us how we let said events effect our future. I choose to thrive in the face of suffering. I have so many reasons to smile and be thankful.

My heart's longing for the contentment and ease of "normal" life almost caused me to tap out early. I am so thankful to have taken the time to think and to have my husband by my side through every torn thought. Wrapping my mind around the idea of weight gain in order to go through with the fat harvest and lipofill wasn't an easy thing to do. But I knew not going through with this procedure because of a personal fear would haunt me forever.

I met with my plastic surgeon two weeks ago and excitedly told her my decision. She said she knew this was the road I would eventually take. I was just stoborn and took a bit to realize it myself. Thing one and thing two are healing wonderfully and have gained some elasticity making me a great canidate for the lipofill. After the procedure is complete my chest should closely resemble that of a normal breast with minimal imperfections. While they will never be real or mine, it is important to be happy with the end result. I was given a goal of gaining 10 pounds. I thought it would be easy, but it is proving to be harder than anticipated. I've spent my life being health conscious and restrictive where certain foods are concerned. I used to be so excited for cheat day to roll around it was pathetic!!! Now every day is cheat day, I force myself to eat when I'm not hungry and I'm missing my healthy food choices. This pressured gain has caused me to go against everything I'm used to while changing my way of thinking. I had been under the impression that I would call My Dr once I achieved our goal. I was panic stricken when my nurse called me with a surgery date! On February 24th I will be having liposuction done on my abdomen, this fat will then be processed and injected into my chest lipofilling away the imperfections by creating a layer of fat separating my skin from my implant. This barrier will give a more natural contour, appearance, and feel.

Having a date has left me anxious and with a deadline. So far I have gained 4.6lbs. I am already feeling and seeing the changes, and I am trying to be ok with them. I am continually looking towards the future reminding myself that this is just another chapter in my story.

Decisions

"Decision:the act or process of deciding; determination, as of a question or doubt, by making a judgment." The course of our lives is constantly decided by the decisions we make. Some are harder to make than others.

This past year has been one full of the biggest decisions I have ever had to make in my life. The choice to fight for myself, the choice ignore my fears and continue with the mastcectomy. The choice to cut my future risk by parting with my nipples. The choice to leave myself transparent and share my story in hopes to help another feel less alone. While emotionally difficult, these choices were all no brainers for me. It isn't about saving the tatas, it is about saving the women and I knew I wanted a healthy future with my family more than I wanted the alternative. My breasts.

I am now 11 weeks post exchange and doing great. I am slowly increasing my activity and while it leaves my muscles sore and tired, it is nice to be getting back to "normal". I LOVE my job and have been working a lot in between enjoying the holidays with my family and closest friends.

Life has been busy and I allowed it to become an excuse to ignore the things I should have been dealing with. I have completely shut myself off from my journey these past few weeks. While it isn't over, it was nice to just live. There are still decisions that need to be made. Weighing my options left me torn, anxious and full of fear. So rather than dealing with my emotions, I shut off. The numbness seems to be my go to. Probably not the most admirable, or smartest thing to do, but it gets me by at times. Truthfully, putting off decisions won't free you from having to make them. Eventually time runs short and you have to make that decision. I can confidently say that after many tears and much debate, I have made mine.

It is no secret that I have struggled through trying to figure out where to go from here. The topic of lipofill and nipples have been ones in question for a while now. As I talked to Zach the other night it finally dawned on me. I had been letting fear cloud my vision. The fear of gaining weight, and how I will feel about my reflection during the process combined with the fear of my eating disorder creeping back up was keeping me from opting against something that could better me. While I'm affraid of the mental battle the weight gain, and lipofill may be, I know for a fact that in 10 years from now I would regret not doing it. When I see my reflection now I see my foobs as incomplete, full of imperfections and damaged so to speak. I do not feel confident topless, not even when it is just me alone with the mirror. As a women that is something important to have. I realized that depriving myself of a finished product for the sole purpose of being affraid of gaining weight may prove that I'm still fighting that fight. This realization allowed me to make my decision. I need to remember that I will be gaining weight for a purpose and it won't be my forever. I've been striving to get back to where I was, when really I should be striving to get through this. I will have a new beginning when all is said and done. A beautiful, healthy, clean slate. All mine for the taking. No matter how hard I try I will never be back to where I was. I am a different person, and I will be better than ever before. All these racing thoughts have allowed me to decide that I will not allow fear to cause me to tap out early. I will continue this journey until the very end. I will gain weight, and do the fat harvest and lipofill. After everything, I owe it to myself to feel confident, proud and see my reflection as nostalgic and beautiful. I will finish my completed chest off with 3d tattooed nipples. I have opted against the nipple reconstruction, but feel the tattoos will be the cherry on top I need. A way of closing this chapter and a symbol of my new begining. I can't wait to live that day.

Fear

They say your past shapes your future. You either learn from it, or grow from it and it constantly shapes the person you will become tomorrow. Parts of it you wish you could forget, while others remain timeless memories to cherish always. By definition past means "gone by in time and no longer existing". Our past is behind us, unable to be changed. But what happens when situations, in combination with the knowledge of the past, envokes fear. Fear that obstacles we once overcame have the possibility to resurrface, and battles we once won become new fights to fight?? Anything is possible. Does such a realization give you a head start or an advantage? Or does this fear cripple you and keep you from making decisions that have the potential to better you in some way, shape or form?

Truth is, I'm scared. This journey has been more than imagined. And while I've made it through all the lumpectomies, mammograms, diagnostics, mastectomy, tissue expansion and breast reconstruction, the fear remains. But this time it's for an entirely different reason. I made it through the worst parts, and while I was scared, I was never undecided on which road to take. I continued onward looking towards that finish line. I knew what needed done, I knew my future depended on it, and I knew I could make it. And I did!!! I am bulletproof. Or am I?

Lately I've been wearing a strong face, laughing through my fears and suffering in silence. I've written this blog many times over in my head, unable to put it into writing for the world to see. I've been transparent and open up until now. Why shut down now?! I am not alone and neither are you. No one should suffer alone, and no one should allow themselves to.

Last week I saw my plastic surgeon to address what turned out to be absesses along my suture line. My body gave up on trying to absorb my stitches and decided pushing them out would be a better idea. Except they had no way out, and instead festered. After 20 minutes of digging, squeezing, and pulling what looked like fishing line out of insicion, I was thankful for my lack of sensation. Aside from this little hiccup thing one and two are healing up nicely.

I've reached a fork in the road and must decide which road to take as I continue into the next steps of my journey. I've always been very confident in my choices and generally know exactly what I want. When trying to come to a conclusion I've always been great at doing research, and weighing my options. But what happens when there is no right or wrong answer?

My skin is thin. This is something of a concern that I'm reminded of at every appointment. It was the reason my inscions healed slowly after the mastectomy and it is now the reason you can see every ripple in my implant,and every differentiation between the implant, alloderm and my muscle. My plastic surgeon has recommended I gain weight so we can harvest fat and lipofill away the imperfections. This is a procedure that is often done on small frammed mastectomy patients. I've done the research and the results leave beautiful, more natural looking "breasts". I struggle with this idea for many reasons and am torn on so many levels.

I've been avoiding making a decision by ignoring the reality all together. When I begin to weigh my options I'm overtaken with anxiety, fear, and even emabrassement. Such a procedure means another road, and another surgery. Truthfully I am ready to be done. I am angry with myself for being a baby while others are fighting bigger fights. I've already won the biggest leg of the race. I wonder if these ideas of wanting to be done could hinder me from continuing onward and achieving a physical appearance that I could look in the mirror and be happy about. At this point in my life I struggle with this a bit. My body has changed a lot in the past year and I'm adjusting. My confidence currently corresponds to whether or not I'm wearing a bra. Is this something I want to feel forever? Will I learn to rock the ripples and become ok with them and the imperfections showing through my skin? Or do I fight for the perfection that my surgeon wants to give?? After everything, do I owe it to myself to get to a point where I am able to love the new foobs? Or do I throw in the towel and learn to love what I currently have just because I want to be done? You can see how my mind has me running in circles. Neither choice is wrong or right, and it is a choice that only I can make. I wish it was a decision I could make.

Truthfully, the idea of gaining weight frightens me. I have struggled my entire life with eating disorders. And while you can overcome and take control of such a mental health disease, it doesn't ever fully go away. It is a lifetime battle of being stronger than the small voices inside your head. About 3 years ago I had a relapse. I had gained weight from the infertility treatments of trying to conceive another baby, and I stumbled..hard. Stress was put on my marriage, and I ended up in counseling and was taking 40mg of Prozac a day. I was finally able to take hold and began my road to recovery. I will never forget the day I shattered my scale on my back porch with tears streaming down my face. I was able to stop taking prozac, began running again, ate healthy and was committed to making strong my new skinny. I fought hard and lost weight the healthy way. When I reached my goal I celebrated by getting this tattoo. What looks like an abstract peacock feather to the world, is deep and powerful to me. The black portion of the "eye" is the NEDA symbol, and the quick of the feather that runs down my spine reads "to thrive in the face of suffering".

For the first time in my life I felt confident in my skin. I worked so hard to get there. To be healthy, and strong both mentally and physically. I stopped being ashamed of my body and embraced it with confidence. This is the same confidence that allowed me to run through Chicago in my underwear for the children's tumor foundation. Being surrounded by men and women of all ages, and body types, putting all insecurities aside for charity is a feeling I won't soon forget.

I have remained confident through all the changes and have overcome many obstacles this year. But I admit, I fear gaining weight. I am affraid of falling back into old habits. I am not sure I am strong enough to start over again. But at least I am at a point where I am able to admit to such. I like to think that alone puts me two steps ahead in the right direction.