real courageous thoughts

So after a week of agonizing, and a full day of incessant debating in my head - even to the very last minute before the surgery - I've done it. Two local anesthetic jabs, two 3mm punch cuts, and two stitches later, I've gotten two of my moles on my face excised.

The procedure wasn't that bad, actually. What hurt was the two jabs of anesthetic which felt a little like ant bites. I guess what didn't help was that I had watched bits and pieces of the procedure on youtube (queasy stomach and all) before the surgery, so I could pretty much imagine everything that was happening at every point - from the anesthetic, to the punch, to the cut, to the stitching. What was gross was that I could feel the tugging at my skin as the stitches were put in... I closed my eyes tight throughout the procedure and just kept praying. It didn't really hurt, but my heart was beating so fast and I had so much fear in me that I literally had to keep saying in my mind "be brave, be brave, BE BRAVE".

I guess it was the psychological process that was really grueling. It was as if my world was going to fall apart with getting my moles removed. I don't know why it affected me so much. Perhaps it was because I had grown used to them, and they were somewhat a part of me. Yes, even though they have bothered me through the years. I guess I was afraid that by changing the way I looked in some small way, it would change how people saw me, it would change part of my past - maybe to the point of erasing or marring it, and change part of my being itself. What a scary thought to think.

Thank God for my daddy. That even though he felt that I really didn't need to do this, and that I was beautiful anyway, after I sent the picture of me and my little post-surgery plaster patches (just to prepare my family before I got home and they saw my patches), my dad just chose to love me and told me "Smile! You look beautiful!" Daddies somehow always know what to say. <3

Ugly little post-surgery plasters.
Please heal well skin!
I"m counting on you!

In the middle of the day, a couple of hours before the surgery, I got a call from my doctor to clear some of my fears on the scarring and my mum heard the conversation (I was driving, so I had to communicate with the doctor over the speaker). I asked the doctor about the extent of the scar and how big the line scar would be - of which he said it'd be about a 4mm line scar which should fade over time - and we just talked about more scarring stuff. At the end of the conversation, my mum calmly, but obviously concerned, asked me if I was really willing to trade a mole for a scar. That was a tough question, but I guess something in me was certain that it was something that I wanted to do. But it was really her second question (statement) that bothered me.

"I hope you don't think he broke up with you because of your looks."

And that question stung at me throughout the procedure.

Amidst the praying, the fighting the fears, and the trying to encourage courage in my spirit in that half hour, I somehow also found the brain space to question it. I debated in my mind about this whole losing weight, mole removal, jaw surgery process, and my motivations to them. It's scary - this phase of my life. It's as if I want to change so much and break out of something that I've felt trapped in for a long time. I don't quite know how to explain it. I know I'm not quite there yet - at breakthrough point - but I also know that I will get there.

I guess my direct answer to her was a resounding, "No." Maybe a tiny part of me might question the totality of that answer (because I suppose somehow girls can be a little more sentimental with such issues in life), but at the same time, I'm also pretty certain that this is not about some post-traumatic reaction. I know the reasons why it happened - which ironically  has a lot to do with a lack of courage as well except it was on both our parts - so I 'm certain that this is not about that. 

This is about me.

It's about me choosing not being fearful of life and life's decisions anymore.

It's about me choosing to "man-up" and face-up to the stronger, more courageous, and visionary person that I know I am inside. 

It's about me overcoming all odds, especially the enemy of myself and my fears, to become everything that I was created to be. Anything less would be a lie.

It's about courage.

In a week my stitches will be removed, and everyday for the next 6 months I will pray that this will all heal well. In a week and a half, I will have my first adjustment for my braces. In 5 months, my first marathon. In a year, if my teeth are obedient, my jaw surgery. And in a year beyond that... goodness knows where life will bring me two years from now. There's only so much one can plan.

But somewhere in between, I will find my breakthrough.