I'll never forget the morning I finally looked at my stomach and cried.
Not the happy kind of surprise. The kind that makes you stand there, dripping wet, wondering what you did wrong.
I had spent the last eleven months on Wegovy doing everything right. Eating protein. Drinking water. Walking five miles a day. I'd lost 34 pounds and my doctor said my bloodwork had never looked better. My clothes fit. My knees stopped aching. I felt healthier than I had in fifteen years.
And yet — every time I looked in the mirror without clothes on — the same thin, crepey, deflated skin stared back at me. My upper arms looked like crinkled tissue paper. My stomach, which was finally flat, had this loose, wrinkled texture that made it look worse than before. My inner thighs sagged in ways I'd never seen.
I felt like the weight loss had aged my body by a decade.
The worst part wasn't the skin itself. It was what it was doing to my confidence. My husband had been my biggest supporter through the whole Wegovy journey. He celebrated every pound I lost. But I'd started changing in the bathroom with the door locked. Wearing oversized shirts to bed. Cancelling the beach trip we'd booked to celebrate hitting my goal weight. I made up an excuse about work.
I didn't feel like a woman who'd just accomplished something incredible. I felt like I'd traded one insecurity for another.
I started researching arm lifts and body contouring. I joined three different GLP-1 Facebook groups where women posted about their loose skin. I filled out a consultation form for a plastic surgeon — $9,200 for an arm lift alone, and that didn't include the stomach. I was ready to spend nearly $18,000 and take six weeks off work — just to feel normal again in my own skin.
Then my friend Dana called.