The Body Beneath the Tiara
My arms jiggle as I shake cheese onto my chicken cheesesteak at the pizza place near work. It’s not the first time I’ve been disappointed with my Hi Helen’s, yet after years of distaste nothing’s changed.
I used to workout in the weight room during gym class in high school-- and working out five days a week was great! My diet still was less-than-healthy and puberty was working on giving me the figure of the beautiful women before me, but I was working my body.
I wish I could go back to ten-pounds-thinner, sophomore-year me and tell her not to stress about her costume for Miss Adelaide-- her tummy five years ago is the goal tummy of today.
As an IBD-er I have to keep in mind that sometimes, my weight is not my fault nor is it as big a problem as I make it. Yes, I need to take responsibility for my diet (more like I see dessert and am dying-to-try-it) and (lack of) exercise, but my body’s been through alot in the past nine months.
I woke up from a colonoscopy six months ago to find out I have IBD. Inflammatory Bowel Disease is a term used for Crohn's Disease and Ulcerative Colitis, an autoimmune disease that’s as fun as it sounds. Since the start of last school year, my weight has fluctuated and my bowels have betrayed me, but I’ve risen above.
Last fall, I took a tap class and worked out for about a half hour after the twice-a-week course. My Aunt asked me if I was losing weight, and I was happy. She didn’t think I needed to lose any weight and told my Mom to keep an eye on me.
I climbed like 300 stairs for this view from the Arc de Triomphe. You loose weight just looking at the stairs.
See, I gained weight freshman year of college, about 9ish pounds, then dropped a few pounds after a semester abroad in England that involved fun trips and many, many, MANY flights of stairs (looking at you, Notre Dame). I was at about 132lbs, and at a curvy 5’4” that was decent for a 20 year-old. Of course, I tried to get down to 130-ish, and at times I did, but that’s neither here nor there.
Last Fall, I discovered that regardless of my diet, I was losing weight. I was thrilled-- every woman’s dream come true, right? Surely those half hour gym sessions were doing something right. Oh my gosh was I naive or what?
Turns out that miracle diet was just my insides tearing me to shreds, no big deal. Once UC was found to be the mastermind behind my dream diet, I was put on 45 mg of Prednisone and told to taper off 5mg a week. In those two months, a few things happened:
My body started healing. That’s well and good, but my appetite was still used to doing whatever it wanted under the pretense I would loose weight.
Steroids. Need I say more? I can’t, because I’m currently stuffing my face with food.
I started infusions of Entyvio-- boo needles but yay normal life again!
I attended two fancy dances, one of which I was in charge of planning.
I stopped steroids.
I became my heaviest weight-- ever.
Whoa, that last one hurt-- it’s right up there with those infusion IV’s. I was incredulous-- I had stopped the steroids but my weight kept rising. I felt so dejected. So disappointed in myself. The progress I made abroad was gone, and in it’s place were more pounds than ever before. I was SO. CLOSE. to my senior year of high school weight, only to tack on ten pounds. To make matters worse, when I went for my follow up I stepped on the scale and the nurse commented, “Oh, it looks like you’ve gained some weight”. No, really? You don’t think my body-conscious 20-year-old mind didn’t pick up on that?
Let me say that while my heavy weight is someone else’s goal weight, it does not detract from the fact that I wasn’t happy with myself. 140ish and 5’4” is still gorgeous, and I realize that now looking back at pictures. I wore a beautiful tight dress for one of the dances, and I felt amazing in it-- until I stepped on the scale. I certainly didn’t feel as heavy as I was. I realized that my new weight could work.
I realized you didn't have to weigh five pounds to wear a dress like this. My boyfriend's grandmother asked why I wore a bathing suit to the dance haha!
This past followup showed my weight had maintained. I’m a couple pounds lighter than my heaviest, but I’m certainly not where I was in high school. That’s ok-- after all, my personality and brain (and health, for that matter) aren’t in high school, so why should my body be stuck there?
What I’ve learned is that while you do need to take care of yourself, you need to care about yourself as well. Whether it's steroids, chocolate chip cookies, or both that's causing your seems to tighten, relax-- you’re still gorgeous.
Am I thrilled with my body? No, but I do have my moments. Am I going to get my butt off the couch and work out again? Well, I just discovered the novels of Jude Deveraux, so maybe not right this second. Eventually I’d like to get back on some kind of track. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a little extra junk in the trunk, especially after all my body has been through since last fall.
I hope you feel beautiful. I started The Princess Promise in part to encourage women with IBD-- and whether you’re sitting on the porcelain throne or standing on the scale, I hope you can have the confidence that you’re a princess. After all, princesses come in all shapes and sizes.
