The Wizard

When I watched the Wizard of Oz, I was like every little girl, I wanted to go to Oz. It had to be better than the world I lived in, Alaska. When, The Wizard; first appeared I thought nothing more than he was a voice on the other end of the line. Within a short time, he was a voice I waited to call, he laughed at my jokes however juvenile and he said I was charming, it became days I would wish for a phone call to hear his voice hoping he would take me from the world I lived in.

As in Oz, there were signs of the tarnished curtain so very early, I should have realized long before I pulled it back. A picture early on in our conversations, me holding my 2 year old son, “Is that a shadow or fat, I see?”

My pause was one because until this moment, weight had never been, will say, an issue. The Wizard had only been my second boyfriend in my whole life(18); boys had been my friends but he was the first since my son’s father who had found me attractive. He was charming and witty and when he arrived in the hot air balloon, one spring afternoon I thought unlike the movie; please take me away, take me to Oz. I wished of Dorothy and the unknown places she was going to go.

I would eventually travel in his hot air balloon, and Oz was as I had hoped: scary, different, and well, magical. However, I was alone and now away from my friends and family. In Oz, I was Dorothy, a new place, new people and only memories of a world now a Hot Air Balloon ride away. The Wizard’s curtain was beginning now to began to tatter, what had been a hopeful future became debt and bills and battles that were long before my storyline ever started. But I was committed and I knew in Oz anything was possible, or so I hoped.

When opportunity struck him, I unexpectedly went from family of three to single mom and housekeeper, I begrudged no one for an opportunity so I quietly sat patient of his return. The Wizard traveled more then he didn’t. It wasn’t long to realize the debt that was still awaiting us and knew I couldn’t stay at home playing house, I quickly found a job that was wonderful, and I had my own supporting cast: a Tin Man, a Scarecrow, a Cowardly Lion and my own Toto.

The weeks of travel turned into months and I stayed ever patient that The Wizard would return home. After a specific trip home, I had mentioned a friend had come to visit immediately I was consumed with questions of this friend’s return and concerns over their occupancy of our residence. I thought little of the request that no one visit our home, unless The Wizard had approved of them far later realizing those approvals would never come. And upon his infrequent returns, if I did leave our house for even a brief time it was clocked on an egg timer, if my return wasn’t timely I was scolded.

There were a thousand small things that as a woman, I can say The Wizard was right. I should clean the kitchen, I should have done the laundry better(I HATE laundry, just a side note) but on others he was distinguishably wrong.  Upon buying a grill for our first Easter holiday, I was told build this please. I thought nothing of the 5 hours it took me to build it on our beautiful deck, until that evening when I went to lay down. I mentioned my discomfort and it was shrugged off as unimportant as was many things in those day, he had a trip and as I packed the last pair of underwear he proclaimed I’d be fine and to suck it up.

After dropping him off at the airport I arrived at work in tears. What the night before had been painful was now 2 inch blisters across my shoulders and back. I cried as my companions took my uniform shirt from my back and gasped. “How long has this been this way?” They proclaimed.

As tears rolled down my face, I was sent to the ER. I was immediately treated for topical third degree burns, not the worst thing in the world but it was then I began to discover I was alone, the doctors asked if I had someone to dress my wounds, and I wept. I knew not a single person in Oz except for my companions at my work but they had been put at a far distance because to The Wizard socializing with others was out of the question.

When a visitor from the North visited once, he commented about my lack of connections and friendship. His visit, as was he, mysterious at best.  When he arrived unexpected at my work, I cried as I wrapped my arms around him, he was Uncle Henry in my storm. He didn’t know but his questions of my life in Oz, were a turning point. Though I had only been there a short time, I knew something was wrong.

Even with a scarecrow, a cowardly lion, a tin man and a Toto I was only safe, I found at work. The one place he couldn’t control, in the end of our time together he did try to use my safe haven against me but with my companions I was safe and in the end, my story, ended uneventfully, but was eventful in its own respect. You see The Wizard had made decisions, like the ownership of our one car, who I was allowed to be friends with and what I was allowed to do. I was ill prepared for the world outside of his Oz. I thought I was now left to the flying monkeys who waited at the door, with a small child I took what we owned and moved to a neighborhood only blocks away from our original home. It was a horrible new reality but the one I was forced to live in, 5am wake up calls to get up an uncooperative toddler to the overnights of laying down on the couch and praying his favorite video would eventually sooth his toddler soul; because we were going to have to be up in only a few short hours.

I don’t know that what I went through all those years ago is defined as abuse, I can tell you he removed me from EVERYTHING, EVERYONE and made me believe for a very long time I was unimportant and deserved nothing.  There are still effects of those times and things that happened, I’m overly protective of my friends and whom I trust, I want to believe in all people there is good but I realized long ago that isn’t true. I hold no one but myself accountable for what happened in OZ.  The tarnished and tattered curtain of The Wizard was always apparent and had I listened to those around me or been more vocal of my fears in life perhaps I wouldn’t have suffered as long as I did. I don’t believe he ever meant to be a monster, I don’t think he ever thought he was a monster. But as in Oz, The Wizard was the one who changed me the most. 

YOU DAMN WELL BETTER KNOW IT

Eleven years ago… November 25th, 2002
I weighed 350 pounds and was a single mom.

I can’t seem to write that sentence without tearing up; I have heard many times, How did you do it? I’m fair, I mean, FAIR from PERFECT but… Boy if you had known me then, it is, far different.

When I was a little girl, my daddy told me one thing, “Kristin, you are a princess.” and it didn’t matter my outer appearance, my daddy thought I was the most beautiful angel ever. I was a chosen child, Kristin that’s my name, Chosen. So when you have that gift, OBESITY, doesn’t matter. I didn’t have bulimia or anorexia; I didn’t have cancer or leukemia. I, was healthy but large, and I mean extra large. For the most part, I did all things you did when you were young, I had a few things that I couldn’t do but well, I never thought I was different.  My parents made sure of that.

It wasn’t until I was a mom that I ever thought I was different, and when a future boyfriend, an abusive boyfriend asked was that a shadow or fat after sending him a picture (I guess I should have thought that was a bad relationship) but I charged thru and almost married him(insert really crazy face). Living in Las Vegas, I had personality and that saved me no beauty needed. That had always been my saving grace, Kristin was the funny girl.  I remember at 20 years old living in my second floor condo and having trouble breathing getting up the stairs carrying my little man, who thought Momma was the most beautiful thing ever.

It was unmistakably hard, I was alone alot, and I was scared. But my family, oh gosh, my mom and dad they stood by me every single day. My dad, he believed in and still believes in me every day. He never said an ill word about my size, EVER. And honestly, I don’t know how; love is the only thing I can say is what helped him. I know he worried, a lot about me. He worried about the little boy who would grow up mother less if things didn’t change and he worried about the life I would never get to lead, but he NEVER, EVER would have said a word. 

I can’t tell you when it happened but on a nondescript day in 2001, I called him and said, “So, Dad…”
And as is stereo typical for my dad, he responded, “How much is this going to cost?”
“$xx,xxx????”
“Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, say what?????”

As I explained in my most brave voice, “I’m obese, Dad.” I could hear the deafening silence, “I’m going to die, Daddy.” Because I knew there was no way of getting around it, I was dying.

After a long and tearful conversation about options and things I had tried and things I could do and what ifs. My dad and I made what I can only describe as the most life changing decision ever, Gastric Bypass.

I have spoken about GB, many times and I stand to say GB is a commitment. Your life is forever changed because of GB. It will never be something that is easy, and anyone who says it is an easy way out can give me a call. Not that I think there aren’t better ways but 11 years ago, I saw no options to the decisions I made. And I live every day with conditions brought to courtesy of GB.

People often ask me, “Would you ever go back?”
“NOT in one millions years.”
Though I have things that have changed because of GB, I’m alive.


I wake up every morning with a husband who knows nothing of the past, my 15 year old remembers so very little of that time. And my eight year old, sees pictures and knows nothing of the person he sees. He recognizes his big brother(As they are identically twins, 7 years apart) but the woman, the woman he sees he knows nothing of. She is a stranger, and to me, she is almost gone, too. By pure size she is most definitely missing, and from memory it is almost frightening remembering who she once was. My best friend, Traci before she died often reminded me, “Don’t forget her, Kristin.” I saw her once, after the operation, at one of my lowest points in my weight lose, she cried. She wrapped her arms around me, and cried. In her eyes, I didn’t know what I saw but I know now, she finally saw my future, Traci knew I was going places.

I have to back up a moment, on the day of my operation, my dad had flown in, I think more to make sure the operation happen than anything else. He was there as the portly orderly rolled me away for the last time and he was the first hand and voice I heard the moment I woke up from my operation. He told me to listen, he told me the people around me would take care of me, he kissed me on the forehead and left for the airport, you see he had change plans to attend a meeting to be with me on my operation day. I fell prompt back to sleep, to wake up to the softest hand I knew, Trac, she was sitting there waiting for my eyes to open. I didn’t want to move, I didn’t want to do anything. To know Trac was to love her, and there was no getting out of doing as I was told. Within an hour I was up, I still remember her voice telling me, “You’ll feel better, if you get to walking.” “Get the gas out.” As she giggled.

I didn’t know where I was going eleven years ago, I didn’t know what to expect. My life, dramatically changed in 1,000 ways with in the first 12 months. Some for the best, and some for not so good. I have lost some friends and I have learned so much about LIFE, I didn’t know anything until GB. I was a baby, and very protected. I have gotten to be strong and defiant of society’s norms, am I different YOU DAMN WELL BETTER KNOW IT. And I’m proud of it. Do I wish I was more like my beautiful, stunning, amazing pageant friends, oh my, YES PLEASE. But Traci, my dad, my mom, and all my friends they knew I was going places, today I look around at all I have accomplished and do I wish my checking account had more zeroes in it, YEP, but man, I’m honored to be someone people look up to and people want to be like, how can I think I have it bad.

Life isn’t what you start with, it’s what you make it. My dad often laughs at me when I post pictures of the old me, and questions my motivation. Well, sometimes you have to be humble, she humbles me, as the does the tattoo I have on my foot, as a statement to who she was, being a whole person, I have friends who weight less than she did, makes you think. Go to the grocery store and pick up 50 lbs. of flour and carry it around the store, call me when it is over I carried 3 times that every day until November 25th, 2002 when I was 350 lbs and a single mom to a 4 year old little boy.