Perception is not Reality – Making a Case for the Tummy Tuck

My internet at work has been very temperamental. In and out and In and Out. But because this is a Tuesday, and Jen and I are both at work, we are required to have a few words exchange via Instant Messaging. It makes the day happy to have our misspelled words bounced around in AIM. So, spotty internet service would have threatened the state of the universe if not for…my trusty iPhone. It was at the ready when Jen pinged me at 9:29 am. Here I was, hovering over my phone at my office desk, typing furiously on the little sucker and looking somewhat desperate – because really, what do you do when there is no internet? You DON’T “do,” and that’s the problem.

But luckily, the universe is righteous due to Apple, And we “did.”

Jen sent me this link.

Read it. And comment, she says.

Comment on the post or comment back to you? I ask

The post, she responds. You’ll see why.

And I did.

So go to the Trenches of Mommyhood (sounds like a familiar place, doesn’t it?).

Read the post.
Read the comments.

I did. All on my phone. And then, oh internets you slithery beast, you came back to me. And I could type much more freely, which isn’t always the greatest thing. (see below)

My comment got so long that I decided to come back here to Momalom.  SarahTrenchMommy struck a chord with me. It sounded like a G-flat but maybe it was a C, resonating straight and simple.

My Comment-turned-Post:

I love, love, love the idea of this. Of getting a mommy makeover in this way. In fact, if I hadn’t just viewed the pictures you linked to, I would be writing some kind of crazy rave review of the surgery without ever having gotten one. To be honest, the pictures just threw me right off.

Three kids later and the stretch marks criss-cross more than just my stomach…my psyche and my sex-life have been scarred as well. I’m tired of wincing when I look in the mirror. The flapjacks substituted for breasts. The unleavened bread stuck against my ribs.

I struggle sometimes with the perception issue – others’ perception of me and my perception of myself – as a woman who would do this. Does this mean I don’t love myself? That I’m not comfortable with myself? I wouldn’t like to believe this. I think of myself as a rather comfortable person. In fact, I make it my goal to be comfortable in my own skin, comfortable around others, comfortable with honesty and happiness and even unhappiness. Comfortable with the reality in front of me, as much as with the reality that I wish to create.

Aha! I found my answer. It’s that last line there that just made me realize that getting a tummy tuck or a boob job would be okay for me. That it’s more about the reality that I want to create than it is about the views surrounding my reality. Let’s face it, perception isn’t reality. And the reality is that I don’t want flapjacks or bread dough. Only to eat, that is, not to wear.

So I’m on board. What holds me back is the pictures showing the surgery scars. (MORE scars, I think? I don’t need any MORE scars.) That and money, of course. Oh and right, that whole dreamy idea of having a baby girl someday, as if I could make it so with sheer will power.

Read More in body image, mind/body, Sarah Writes