|My "after", in the words of Sean Ryan Paris - "Sunshine and Happy and Hanson!"|
I will happily post transformation pictures of my hair, or my hands, or even my face. But my body is off limits. One of my worst fears is for someone out there will somehow get a hold of a sick picture and yearn for that body. That terrifies me. I would rather someone see the fact that my hair grew back or that my cheeks filled out and I got the life back in my eyes. I would rather someone ask me what the main difference is and see happy tears fill my eyes while I say "well number one I didn't die" (still not really sure how I survived it) "but beyond that I don't have an ever present chill in my bones and I don't have hair growing on my lower back in my body's last ditch effort to stay alive." I don't need to remind the world how much my body has changed. You learn so much when you recover...definitely more than I ever expected to. One thing you learn is that beauty has nothing to do with it. Nothing to do with it at all.
Peace, love, and in an Mmmbop they're gone,