And not just American women thankyouverymuch. 
I have no idea who Gisele is, and I’m not even interested enough to Google her.
And having had 3 non-elective surgical procedures, there’s no way I’d go thru that again simply for a vanity procedure. Heck, I don’t even like getting my hair cut.
The only way I’d have surgery is…I’d have some work on my saggy face IF I were having surgery for something else anyway. I don’t want to be like Olivia Goldsmith and die on the operating table while having my turkey-neck fixed.
What she said.
I used to think I would have my tummy tucked if I had the money. This was prior to my seventh abdominal surgery, so as you can imagine, my belly isn’t a thing of beauty. I have scars that form the letter L thanks to a very weird appendectomy, and the other five surgeries.
I figured I knew what surgery entailed and since tummy tucks are not as invasive and any lipo would be similar to laparoscopic surgery, that wouldn’t be too bad.
My seventh surgery was done by laparoscopy and was right up there as the most painful surgery I’d ever had. I had glossed over the bit in the pre-op flier that laparoscopy can be major surgery and fixated on the lesser degree of invasion to my body. Boy was I wrong.
I will never have surgery again unless it’s to save my life. Period. End of story. I like my belly just fine, L and all, and also will not willingly undergo laparoscopic surgery again.
My belly was really the only thing I was interested in changing.
I spent my twenties being stick thin. I’m not now - pregnancy, giving up smoking and a more sedentary lifestyle all combined to make the last ten years of my life progressively heavier.
Diet and exercise are getting me back to healthy, but I’m not even aiming for ‘thin’.
Surgery? I’ve never needed it and wouldn’t volunteer unless it was guaranteed both risk free and health enhancing (rather than cosmetic).
WhyNot, you flatter me shamelessly. And I would totally make lesbian gingerbread with you. I know you’re not that much older than me, but still, I hope I’m as cool and fabulous as you are when I grow up. 
Quite a few of my friends had some form of plastic surgery done, back in Korea. Just to be clear, at this particular point in time I would never consider getting it done. Too expensive and too many risks, and I’m happy enough with myself that I don’t think it’d be worth it. But in another universe, if there were a way for me change some stuff about myself without there being any risks of anything, I would. I’d get rid of the freckles on my right leg, cinch in my midsection an inch or so, and straighten my teeth out. Obviously this is not possible and never will be, so I’m happy enough with the way I am at present. Most of the time I feel more or less attractive, and if I sigh and frown at my reflection from time to time, I’m sure most of us do as well, even the Giselles of the world.
I am as big as the woman in WhyNot’s picture, and my answer stands. It’s my body. I love it. I did get particularly lucky and the fat is arranged so that I have a proportionately tiny waist, childbearin’ hips and big boobs, so I look like a fertility goddess. (Hilarity. I’m childfree by choice.) Perhaps if I were more straight up and down in build I would feel different, but as it is, what I have is an overabundance of curves, and that’s more than liveable. And that’s one reason I’d never trade for a supermodel body. I LIKE the improbable curves I come with, even though I’m trying to make them overall smaller.
No. I am no longer willing to risk my health to fit into someone else’s view of beauty.
I didn’t have any problem with my body, really, until I lost a lot of weight, and I saw how differently people treated me, from my mom to strangers on the street. People smiled at me more, were more likely to go out of their way to help me, more likely to strike up a conversation. And it made me realize that, as a woman, my looks make up 100% of what people think of me. I started to secretly hate everyone who complimented me on my looks, and secretly hate myself for loving the attention I had been denied for 18 years. I dreaded my hair, got large tattoos and facial piercings, as part of a fighting back against the mainstream standard of beauty. And, at the same time, I did horrible things to myself to keep that weight.
And then I gained it all back. And then I gained more. Nine years later, I’ve come to back to terms with my body, and having dated and subsequently married a guy who was there for my weight gain and didn’t even notice (until I pointed it out) definitely helps. Being a fat woman seems to make it okay for strangers to tell you exactly what they think about the way you look, and consequently, what they think about you as a person. These thoughts are both positive and negative. For every asshole comment shouted at me as I walk down the street, I get a comment about how the speaker “likes 'em thick.” I’m not sure which is worse, but the fact that I appear to be invisible to everyone else is definitely the worst.
I knew from a young age that I could never attain what is considered beauty in this country (even at my thinnest, I was still way too fat for many people), so I focused on the things I was good at, particularly being good at school, instead of constant dieting and makeup and clothes. I’m now working on my PhD, in a program with 16 faculty members and 38 graduate student. A total of four of us are fat, one male faculty member and three female grad students. There is a huge (pardon the pun) anti-fat bias in academia. The place I ran to in order to hide from the bias in everyday life, and I ran into it here.
So, no, I wouldn’t have the surgery. I refuse to mutilate myself further in order to please someone else.
Why would I do that? I already look better than her. :eek:
j/k
I generally tend to average out to something near this; these days, I’m on the heavier side of it, but not by a ton. I am working on that, though, and other than trying to be a little less chubby, I think I’m pretty enough.* The idea of cosmetic surgery disgusts me a little, and I think that I’d only do it for me for reconstructive purposes if necessary. (i.e. needing a double mastectomy + new “replacement boobs” or something similar) I just don’t see it as a viable option, especially when considering the risks and the invasiveness of surgery.
*Honestly, the only thing that makes me “unattractive” in my mind is the extra weight around my midsection. I have a nice figure, but it’s hiding under an extra layer of fat that I can’t seem to keep off in the climate that I’m in. Any time it gets cooler outside, though, I drop weight, especially if I’ve been exercising. I just am dissatisfied with the way my stomach looks, but refuse to believe that surgery is going to make it better in a manner that’d be safe enough to be worth it.
No thanks. I’ll keep my own little 5’2" body. That’s WAY too big of a risk. Especially to look like Gisele.
That’s a gorgeous, healthy body! Believe me, I don’t have the media manipulated unattainable (on average) ideal problem going on. I’d be over the moon to be down to a healthy 160 (which, at 5’6", would still have me clinically overweight with a BMI of 25.8). That’s still 70 pounds away, and I’m fracking stuck here on rice cakes and salads. grumble grumble 
I hate to say it, but yes. My husband would never agree to it, though, so I wouldn’t actually go through with it, but I’d want to. And if I were single, I would do it hands down! I’ve got issues. This wouldn’t solve them all. But it would certainly help.
For reference, the closest anything in this thread is to me is pictured in the period on Jenny’s sentence. (More like, that was me a few months ago before I started school again and quit exercising and dieting. And maybe I’m a tad more chesty, though that would disappear if I were able to drop the weight on my own. Whatever.)
Oh, and WhyNot? I STILL can’t believe you weigh that much. Tell me your scale is broken, 'cause I don’t see it! My views are so skewed and surreal. I can see beauty in women who are plus-sized, because you’ve got it; you’re gorgeous! But I can’t be happy with my own chubbiness and will always see the worst in myself. Body-image wise, I’m a big freaking mess. Time to go eat a fat-free yogurt–or is it time to binge on an entire bag of nacho chips? Let me go check my guide to the Disturbed Emotional Self-Loathing Diet!
No. I have a thing about pain and scarring. And, hypothetical though this may be, plastic surgery does NOT age well.
Ten thousand dollars and, likely, the pain of months of recovery?
But with ten thousand dollars and a year or two of hard work, I can afford the healthy food and pay a personal trainer to help me get to that point. With ten thousand dollars, I could afford to move to a city where I could kick the car to the curb, as it were, and use public transport and my own feet to get around.
For me, it’s exercise I need to buckle down and do. After one week of pretty much walking everywhere I wanted to go (visiting Toronto with some car-less friends) I dropped nearly a pants size. Now, as much as I’ve always wanted to be 5’11" and slender as a reed, I know if I drop enough weight to be healthy I’ll look like a Polish barmaid – short, thick, and busty.
Then I’ll have a hot body to go along with a pretty enough face, great hair, and (I’ve recently been informed) a “sezzy voice.” 
I’d rather have that – and know I worked to earn it – than wake up suddenly Gisele. I’d rather make myself what I am than have it handed to me. I’d rather be truly myself than another person’s image of awesome.
Not to by Mr. Logical here (because I know you’re trying to make a point, and it’s a valid one) but there is no way a surgery with a 25% morbidity rate would be allowed, not even for a serious illness.
I wish! No, I’m afraid that number is accurate - several different scales at the Weight Watchers weigh-ins (which, contrary to popular belief, are NOT public, thank goodness!) have all confirmed it within a pound.
Y’know, I can see beauty in OTHER plus-sized women. Not all of them, honestly, but some of them have a grace and a glow and a beautiful bearing I find astonishingly pretty and even sexy, and not even in a “despite her size” way, but just in a total way - like their beauty would be lessened if they were thin. Does that make any sense? Not every fat woman looks like a goddess, but some of them do.
In the mirror though, all I can see is the vague outlines of *me *inside this fat suit. But I’m starting to wonder (oy, this sounds self-absorbed in a thread that’s already a little more me-centered than I intended. But what the hell…) maybe I’m one of those “goddess women” that (some) *other *people see beauty in. I do hear often enough that I’m beautiful…but then I just think people are saying it to be nice, and they don’t really mean it. And the hard part about changing that thinking is that no matter how often people insist that’s their true opinion, nothing can change that little voice in my head going “right…you know, if you were ugly, I’d tell you that you were pretty 'cause my Mama raised me to be nice. I’m sure that’s what you’re doing.”
And, what I just said notwithstanding…chubbiness? B’wuh? I didn’t see chubbiness on you at *all *when we hung out. Is this “my BMI is too high for healthy” or “Wow, Nicole Kidman looks awesome, why can’t I have her collarbones?” I know people loathe the BMI, but I like having a rational number to point to in order to figure out if something needs to change or if I’ve been hiveminded by Hollywood.