20
Oct

I Feel Naked… oh so… Naked

There are days and then there are days.   On that particular day, it was almost four weeks after my tummy tuck surgery.   Before surgery, I planned on waiting at least two months before my “big public reveal” i.e. NO big shirt.

But, on that day, I awoke with a smile on my face, a feeling that the cosmos blessed me with hopes of adventure and good things to come.  And I was only weeks away from rejoining the gym and pool to restrengthen my core.

I sat down, with coffee cup in hand, Nicky (my cat) aside and happily drafted a list of errands even though I knew it was Tax Day.

I prepared the last installment of property taxes, which in this state and county, are so high it takes a shot of whiskey to soften the anger, especially when tax dollars seem not to be spent on unkempt, broken, “wash board” roads.

After nearly depleting my anemic bank account, I realized the errand list would truly be greatly reduced.  So, I took my time choosing the day’s outfit which basically consisted of cutoff jeans, sports bra, big shirt and sandals.  Painted on eyebrows and styled hair optional.  Not much on fashion, right?  But after decades of hiding a deformed midsection, that was what I was accustomed to.

As I wrote – there are days and then there are days.   On that particular day, I walked into my bedroom and did not reach for my usual attire but a pair of nice Bermuda short, freshly laundered sports bra and a semifitted top.

I painted on eyebrows, brushed my hair, kissed Nicky, popped an anti-nausea pill and began the long sickening drive into town down unkempt, broken, “wash board” roads.  But halfway into town, I realized I was NOT wearing a big shirt.

I was NAKED.

To say the least, I drove back home.  I grabbed one of three big shirts, which are kept by the door for “emergencies”, kissed Nicky, again, and rejoined the car.  Before I could even open the car’s door an anxiety attack overwhelmed every bit of me.  I walked back inside and fell into the couch.

How could I have forgotten my big shirt?  Over forty years, the big shirt was my security blanket ready to protect me from a world of violence, unpredictability, uninvited cameras and bad hair days.  A safe haven of abundant pockets to drop my keys into other than my bra and hide my guilt for a horrific mid-section.

Then, what was once anxiety turned into a nervous fear.  Even though I have lived in the same town for years, shopped the same stores, drove the same broken roads, everything became a stranger to me.  Most troubling, I was afraid for anyone to see me without a big shirt.  I would be NAKED before the world.

But there are days and that day was a very special day.  I gathered my wits, kissed Nicky, again, visited the bathroom (bad roads demand such a trip), again, and walked into the sunshine with big shirt in hand.  With one big ceremonial sweep, I tossed the big shirt on the ground and hopped into the car.

Since that day, I have ventured into public three times without a big shirt.  Each time scary yet an exciting adventure.

I do not recommend a tummy tuck to anyone as it is not all roses.  The decision is yours to make along with your doctor’s.  For me, refurnished stomach muscles, and the loss of a 3-4 pound apron, are well worth the effort as each will assist me in my effort to train.

The loss of the big shirt, well, is a honey of a confidence booster!