i was writing this while comfortably seated on a plane

This past weekend I traveled to Sacramento, CA to visit some very very good friends I hadn’t seen in a long time. They have a daughter who is growing up way too fast and I was missing her terribly. V suggested a somewhat last minute trip as part of Valentine’s Day. Who was I to refuse such a lovely gift?

As the days until the trip crawled by I realized that I hadn’t traveled by plane since last April when I went to Brussels. I had only lost about 17 pounds at that point, and still had to ask for the extension for the seatbelt.
((I remember the stewardess that handed it to me was so very kind, “They don’t make these seatbelts as long as they used to; especially not in these back rows.” And she had the kindest smile on her face. Not pity, but genuine caring and kindness. Maybe she was fat at some point, and knew that fat folks just need kindness and not a judgmental eye. Everyone is fighting a battle, so be kind.))

Here’s an interesting thing: I don’t see a different person when I look in the mirror. I don’t see someone who has lost 84 pounds. I see me: a fat girl with an attitude who isn’t taking nothing from nobody. When I look at photos from myself from a year ago, and then look at myself I can see the difference. And it is startling. But when it’s just my current face and body, I just don’t see it.
So here I was thinking about how we had to get Economy Plus seating on the plane so I would have room for my legs and tray table and all my fatness. ((Those extra 5 inches make ALL the difference when you’re fat.)) The tickets were an extra $70 more each way, so we could have slightly nicer seats. ((Also, we wanted to sit next to each other, and the only way it was going to happen was in Economy Plus. Otherwise we’d be at opposite ends of the plane. In middle seats. No lie. The airline industry is doing just fine. 2 weeks out and our plane was already overbooked…))

Fast forward to last week when we were RUNNING through IAD to catch our plane, thanks to circumstances 100% out of our control. ((If you’re ever flying out of IAD, allow 1.5 hours at the airport for domestic flights; 2.5 hours for international flights. Trust me.))
We got on the plane, by the skin of our teeth, and sat down in our seats, breathless. We stashed our carry ons. I grabbed my seat belt and buckled it. And then I noticed this:


Look how much slack there is! I used to have to such my stomach in, hold my breath, barely get eh thing buckled and then massage the belt under my stomach fat roll. Much like many men who insist on never buying the right size pants and instead wear it WAY below their giant stomachs. ((I always wonder how they keep their pants up. My mom says it’s with their dicks. I’m not certain their dicks are that strong.))

Then I folded down my tray table. And noticed this:


Even when I was in Economy Plus before, with the extra 5 inches, I’d be tightly pressed against the tray. In a regular seat I wouldn’t even be able to use the tray at all. Again, I took it all in stride. This was just my life, this is how it would always be.

Except that now it’s not.

Now it’s nice to travel in a plane. Comfortable even. It was easy to get up and walk around and be able to squeeze around other folks in the aisles and not have to worry (as much) about shoving my butt in someone else’s face. Or worse, have to walk well out of my way (which on a plane can be almost impossible) to avoid not having to squeeze past someone.

I’m finding a lot of those kind of things lately. Examples of how different my life is.
While out on my bi-daily (tri-weekly?) run around Sac more than 1 car honked at me. Which we all know is the international symbol for “Hey sexy! I’m a man who doesn’t know how to communicate other than honking my horn at you!”
Sitting at Starbucks, I get smiled at. More than usual. More than I remember.

And maybe that’s what weird. Maybe these things DID happen when I was fatter. And maybe it’s that I didn’t notice because of my own body image issues.

And now I have this confidence (others have noticed it too). I’m feeling so much more comfortable, and a bit sexy, in my new skin (even though when I’m naked it’s a bit of a freak show). Perhaps I walk taller. Perhaps I sway my hips a bit more. Perhaps I smile at the right time.

Perhaps now that I’m smaller I’m seen as more attractive, more valuable, more worthy. And now my natural flirtiness (which I’ve always had) is allowed to be returned, seen, engaged with.
But that would mean that people are jerks, right?

I think I’ll just stick with the idea that I’m more confident.

And really comfortable in this airplane seat.


this post is rated ‘R’ (it might even be NC-17)

Upfront, right away: this post is about sex. More specifically, about sex post-surgery. And pre-surgery. It’s not graphic, but it’s pretty matter-of-fact. I’m going to call a vagina a vagina, not a hoo-ha or some other clever alias. If you’re uncomfortable with that, stop reading now. I fully expect that this will be the least read post on my blog. I’m OK with that.

Anyone who knows me well enough and for long enough knows that I’ve never shied away about talking about sex. ((As a funny example: I may or may not have mentioned, while my 14-year old nephew was in the room, that V and I were looking forward to “having sex all over the house, since the in-laws were gone.” He laughed. Good kid.))

I embrace almost all forms of sexuality, even if it’s not my cup of tea. Whether you like whips and chains or dressing up in a furry costume I’ve always said, “Whatever floats your boat, so long as it doesn’t rock mine.” My personal sex life is quite vanilla. Though it’s also very fulfilling. It hasn’t always been, but as I’ve grown older and had more partners I’ve learned that if I don’t make sure I’m satisfied, no one else is going to.

And yes, I’ve had multiple partners. Of multiple sexes. If you didn’t know, now you do; I always have, and still do, consider myself bisexual. 

But that’s not what this post about. ((Though I do realize that I just came out to the whole world. Well, the ones who didn’t know. That’s probably a lot of you. Sorry to be so impersonal about it. It’s just never been a big deal for me.))

And I’m a huge proponent of sex before marriage, but not before love. Make smart choices.

But that’s also not what this post is about.

This post is about how much my sex life and sexual satisfaction has improved since losing 50-82 pounds.

Because I was super surprised about it.

I’ve always been very satisfied with the sex V and I have. Especially since we hit our stride about 4 years ago. Something about being married for 2 years allowed us to have some serious (and seriously sexy) discussions about satisfaction and all that. Sex has always been good for both of us. Friends will tell you that one of the reasons I knew V was my soulmate/bishert/”one” is because the sex was off the charts from month 1. (I say month 1 because I had to know I loved him before we had sex. I knew from date #3, about 3 weeks in. The extra week was for a frank discussion about protection. Make smart choices.)

I started thinking about the improved sex a few weeks ago. I actually brought it up in the sweet after-sex pillow talk last week. V agreed that he had noticed a difference in frequency and in my satisfaction. Whether it’s that I have more energy or that my hormones are cycling like a normal woman’s for the first time ever, I don’t know.

Here’s my advice if you’re unhappy with your current partner, or your current level of satisfaction:

1. Have an open and frank discussion with your partner. Maybe they are also unsatisfied. If you are both unhappy there are many many very fun ways to figure out how to make each other happy.

2. Get some exercise. Anything to get your endorphin levels up. You’ll be happier, and in the long run, have more energy.

3. If you need to lose weight, do it. Stop making excuses. Start making a plan.

4. Stop drinking soda! Drink more water. ((This might not be necessary for better sex, but do you know how bad soda is for you? All that junk can’t be good for the systems in your body.))

5. Eat less or no meat. Stop eating processed crap food. Eat more veggies and fruits. And if you’re going to eat meat (I eat quite a bit of chicken to get all my protein for the day), make sure it’s organic and free-range. Same for those veggies and fruits. ((This also might not be necessary for better sex, but do you know how bad processed foods and meats are? All that junk can’t be good for the systems in your body.))

Let’s be clear – I’m not saying fat people can’t have good and satisfying sex. I had excellent sex when I was fat. I’m continuing to have excellent and satisfying sex, and I still consider myself fat.

I’m saying that this is my experience: losing weight improved my sex life. It improved all of my life, in every aspect. And if you’re unsatisfied, whether it’s in bed (or the kitchen, or the living room, or the shower) or in your life in general, figure out how to get satisfaction. Get rid of all the junk that is cluttering up your life, whether it’s literally junk, or junk food, or a junk partner. You have choices, you really really do.

Make smart ones.