Skin removal surgery

My name is Kristi Hansen. I wasn't always the fat kid growing up. I was a normal kid. Loved to ride bikes, play sports, and hang out with the neighbor kids. At barely 13 years of age, my world came crashing down. I was sexually assaulted by my best friend who just happened to be my neighbor. When I reported that it happened and how it happened, I was asked questions like "how were you dressed?", "did you say or do anything that would make him think that was ok?" Being asked these questions made me think that it was my fault that this had happened to me. That somehow I was to blame for his actions. Being blamed or questioned like this, made me distance myself from people. Slowly I began to eat. And eat. And. Eat. I was completely destroyed and had no one to lean on. I didn't know anything about sex at 13. I was ashamed and wanted to hide from the world. I didn't want to be noticed ever again. I continued to eat and therefore, I put on weight. LOTS of weight. My clothes became more baggy to hide it, my hair was never done like all of the other girls. I never wore makeup. I built a physical barrier between me and anyone who might show some sort of physical attraction towards me. By doing so, no one would find me dressed inappropriately, or too pretty. I was plain.

I carried on that way for 13 years. At 26 years old, I weighed 317 lbs. I was squeezing myself into a size 22 only because I couldn't stand to be a size 23. In my mind, the number on the scale defined me. My brother who was serving an LDS mission at the time, made me promise him that when he got home, we would be able to shop together at the same stores. Determined to fulfill that promise, I joined a gym and started working out. I was surrounding myself with people who were supportive of me and and gave me nutritional advice. With their help and my determination, the weight started coming off. It took 3 years of sweat and many tears, but I had fulfilled my promise.

After going thru all of this, you would think I would be so happy and excited, maybe even proud. However, something was holding me back to the memory of that awful summer day. It makes me remember every single detail of that day. The smells, the sounds, the horrifying physical and emotional pain. A constant reminder of what had happened to me, of who I used to be. That something I speak of is loose skin I carry around each and everyday. No matter how hard I work at the gym, how well I eat, it's still here. It hangs, it pulls, it weighs me down, it gets in the way. I can't tuck it in, nor can I hide it. I feel getting it removed would be the last piece of the puzzle to make me whole again. I want to be freed of that day completely. I have spent so much of my life dissecting my tragedy. I want and need to close this chapter in my book. Be whole. Be healed. Be myself again.

My dream is to have skin removal surgery. I know this is a big decision; it weighs heavy on my heart. I feel that this is the final step to me being free. To me letting go of my past and turning the page to a new chapter. To never to look back and use my story to help others. I would love to love the me that I've been working so hard to be. This is the final step in my journey.