dear anne

of telling my mother about the surgery was telling my mother about my fancy new
gig. I hesitated, of course–I mean, I wanted to say, "Look at how fancy I
am!" But it’s also really hard to let someone you know read the kinds of
essays, posts, columns, whatever these are, that I’ve been writing. I’ve been
trying to stay honest and truthful, to be as blunt and up front as possible,
not sugarcoat, definitely not hold back, and usually, make a fool out of
myself. I’ve been doing pretty well with that, and it’s left me feeling as vulnerable
as ever. And I’ve spent the majority of my life feeling vulnerable. It
turns out it’s even harder when you are the one who goes and exposes yourself
deliberately. Sometimes, I feel like a flasher who ought to be arrested.

I told my mother, because I figured this was a way to share with her what I was
going through, since I had pretty much shut her out before. Is it the guilt
talking? Possibly it’s the guilt talking. The guilt, it likes to talk a lot. So
I hesitated, thought better of it, and then confessed. And I am so glad I
did, because I got this e-mail, below.


read a few (not all yet) of your journal entries and those who have posted
comments.  Yeah for you! Now, it is my turn to say a few things and it is
not bad or yelling or being angry. Just some little comments, which I hope
you will share.

first and foremost: Your dad never ever berated me about my weight.
He always and ever said, "There was more to love." Your dad was
so understanding about it. And, when I met your dad I was actually size
12 (imagine).  But, he loved me for who I was always and ever. He
encouraged me with NutriSystem, Weight Watchers and anything I tried or (oops) failed. He said don’t worry. I like you the way you are.

for not telling me about the surgery. I was a little hurt you did not
trust or know me enough to know how thrilled I am that you took such a
courageous step in doing it. I have struggled with my weight (as did and
do [your aunts]) all my life. You took a step to get it off and God willing,
you will be able to keep it off even with chocolate and cookie and donut
attacks. Be careful, SUGAR spells diabetes. I would have been there
to support, congratulate and be so happy for you. As I am now. 

am so proud of who you are. I am so looking forward to seeing the
"skinny" Anne who will be the most beautiful bridesmaid at the
wedding. I am not, nor will I ever be, jealous of you for losing

am losing weight the slow way but it is happening for me too. I have lost
about 50 pounds (over a year) and my blood pressure is down enough that maybe
soon it will be one of the medications I will be off. I am hoping if the
weight keeps coming down the diabetes medication will be the next to go. 

Losing weight is a bitch especially when there are people who seem to be able
to eat what they like and want and never gain an ounce (that was your
dad). I am jealous of those people, but never ever you, because you know the
struggle, the pain, the hurt that comes from being overweight most of your

always and ever,


My mom is pretty awesome. And I am glad I told her.

9 Replies to “dear anne”

  1. I think often the fear of doing something is worse than actually doing it. I’m glad your conversation with your mom turned out so much better than you expected! I was a bit weirded out when I learned my mom had found my blog (she found it without me telling her about it), but it was kind of cool because it allowed us to talk about topics we would never had discussed otherwise.

  2. What a wonderful gift your mother’s letter is. I sometimes wonder how much of what I think about my mother is true and how much a product of my over-active imagination. Some of the things that have hung around the longest in my memory may have never actually happened.

  3. What a nice Mother’s Day type moment. My Mom knows about my WLS, but not about my blog. Yet. I’m hesitant to tell her because of how vulnerable I will feel.

    I was hesitant to tell my friends, but now I am glad I did. I was hard the first 2 weeks after, thinking….hmmm, what will ___ think about me now? and second guessing my words. Now, I find I’m impatient with my friends when they DON’T read my blog – I think I’ve “told” them things, and then they’re clueless. I guess I’m just never happy, eh? :)

  4. Your mom IS great.

    And since we know she reads your posts and our comments, I want to tell her that her daughter is great, too.

    Your incredible gift, your writing, has helped so many. I don’t think you even have a clue the effect you have. Your raw honesty, rapacious wit, and beautiful personality shine through in every single thing you write. I want to take you home and hide you in my closet and keep you all to myself (except, I don’t, because that would be very, very weird. Let’s just say I want you to move next door to me and be my very best friend 4-evah, ‘k?).

    I am sure your mom is very proud of you.

    Cheers to both of you. You’re both going to be gorgeous at the wedding!

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