My Biggest Insecurity

All this so called progress, just to potentially go so many steps back because of those crushing words...
                 
Today was a pretty good day up until that point. I came home this morning after spending the night over at Nick and Melissa's. I only just came out to them that night, it went perfect, as far as coming out goes it's been a incredibly smooth process. Everyone has been great about it. I came home this morning knowing I had to see my psychiatrist and my therapist.

When I seen my psychiatrist and caught her up to date on things she was quite thrilled with how I've progressed, it's quite funny, I immediately thought of comments on the blog here as she said how I've come a long way, she was particularly pleased to see that I'm noticing faults like my distorted thinking and things like weigh-in day (which are Mondays) effecting my week. I've never seen my psychiatrist that happy, it made me happy to see her happy, it also made me realize how seriously she takes her job. For first time in a long time none of my depression or mood medications have been changed.

Then I went home for a bit until therapy, my brother arrived during his lunch break to grab a bite to eat, we chatted for a bit then he was out the door, I was feeling pretty good about myself. It was time to head to therapy, little did I know things were about to change. When I got in the building I headed for the elevator to take me to top floor, as I looked over there was a woman talking to a lady at the receptionist desk but she had kind of stopped everything to turn and look at me but she didn't turn back around right away, in fact she she lingered and starred. Immediately I thought this was peculiar, odd, but I continue waiting for the elevator. When she finally turns back to the receptionist she leans in and I guess attempts to be discrete and asks "is that a man or a woman" of course my elevator arrives too little too late, right after she says this. I'm humiliated, devastated and honestly a bit P.O'd  so before I step into the elevator I announce loud and clear "I'm a man" and head on my way. I honestly don't know where that came from, and I regretted it, and I would have never done that in the past, but it happened.




Once I got off the elevator I had to wait in the lobby for a while and honestly I was just wrecked. This made me relive very powerful, painful experiences from my past and it's become my biggest insecurity. Since I was young my weight always collected heavily in my chest. I remember kids would ask me why I had boobs, or some jerk making fun of me. The worst of it came when I was around 9 or 10 and I would be out shopping with my mom. Some random adult would tell her that her daughter looked cute, my mom would correct them and tell them I was a boy, but the damage was done. My mom would also think it was quite funny, I would also pretend it was funny too, not wanting to reveal the utter devastation that just took place. This started occurring so much that I started going out with my mom less and less because I didn't want to be mistaken because of my chest. That was the clear reason that was happening.

In high school I liked wearing plaid cause I felt like it hid my chest, I also liked wearing jackets that made me look even bigger just because that obscured the view of my chest slightly, and I didn't care if it was 90 degree weather either. My chest is my biggest insecurity, I already know it's just pure fat, I don't have Gynocamastia and after 200lbs of loss the issue is very much still an issue. Today the issue hit me dead in the face and brought me down from my high. When this used to happen before it used to make me feel like less of a person, like a thing, after all even today the lady asked is that, that thing, that giant ambiguous thing, a man or a woman? I honestly don't know what effect this will have on me long term, I'm just really bummed out.

I wanted to write about my chest last year but could never bring myself to do it, the truth is an incident like this hasn't happened in quite some time, in fact I can't remember the most recent time, still the wounds hurt, and I'm incredibly self-conscious about it and this latest episode only magnifies my issue.

I suppose it didn't help that I recently shaved off all my facial hair, I suppose I shouldn't be mad at the lady after all I'm the one who looks abnormal, most men don't gain there weight so strongly in their chest like I have. The ironic thing is I would not have cared if the  same sequence of events occurred  but I not had this chest. I suppose it has everything to do with the identifying factor.

Comments

  1. "I suppose I shouldn't be mad at the lady after all I'm the one who looks abnormal"

    NOPE. Just nope. How inconsiderate and rude of that woman! I can't even call her a woman, that CHILD. It's easy to make a snap judgment, but that doesn't mean you should. Does she know all you've conquered and all the weight you've lost? No, she doesn't. It just happened to be about your biggest insecurity (I've been called a boy lots...from when I was little to even last month) and that's not fair. Proud of you for acknowledging it and dealing with it, but please don't accept her comments as truth.

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    1. It's just where my mind kind of goes, blame myself. It was a rather intense setback. I do believe she was wrong though.

      Thanks for your continued support.

      Delete
  2. You are not less of a person. She is.

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  3. I think it's great that you stood up for yourself and responded to that incredibly rude woman. What in the world is wrong with some people? I hope she feels ashamed of herself. Oh and it's such a dumb thing to say, you don't look like a woman at all. That doesn't even make sense.

    You've handled yourself with class and dignity. Be proud. Don't let someone else's thoughtless words affect how you feel about yourself.

    I know it's not the same, but when I lost weight I was mistaken a lot for being pregnant because of the loose skin I carried on my stomach. I got quite self conscious and would try to dress to cover the skin and was nervous when I met new people they would think I was pregnant, so I'd try to make it clear somehow that I wasn't (I'd normally mention something about drinking wine or something dumb like that so they knew I wasn't pregnant, which was weird). I ended up getting the loose skin cut off with a body lift surgery a few years ago and it's the best thing I ever did.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you so much for the kind words, it really does make me feel better about how I handled the situation. Bravo to you on the success of your weightloss and I can completely understand what you're saying about starting up a subject about drinking wine to avoid being asked if you were pregnant. That sound sounds like the something I would anxiously play out in my head trying to find ways to prevent myself from being humiliated if at all possible.

      Delete
  4. I've been mistakenly asked if I was pregnant before. Yeah, getting our insecurities poked stinks.

    Repeat after me: what someone else thinks of me is none of *my* business. (It's taken me a loooong time for that to sink in.) You are doing something amazing. You have made and are making so much progress. That person doesn't know you. That person has nothing to do with you. Imagine a world where that kind of busy-body talking just rolls off of you. (Can't imagine it? Try harder. What if there was a world where you didn't care at all what she thought of you? You'd feel powerful!) Do you feel a little like a superhero? You *are* a superhero.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you, this situation is one of the bigger blows. It really validates my every issue with this journey but yes she really shouldn't matter to me she just happened to cut me right at an artery. I'm down but not out.

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