You Never Know the Story Behind the Body

Well, it has been a while since I've blogged. 

I can handle a lot. BUT when someone hurts my sweet Heather, watch out, world!

So here I am, putting my thoughts on paper—or, in this case, into a blog—in the hope of educating a few people who might benefit from thinking before they speak.

For those new to my blog, Heather has been dealing with serious chronic health issues for the past 12 years. However, her medical journey actually began much earlier. Shortly after birth, and again at 15 months old, she underwent two major surgeries for intestinal obstructions.

 

Fast-forward to 2025. Heather underwent what we hoped would be a relatively straightforward hernia repair, followed a few months later by extensive, invasive abdominal surgery to address YEARS of adhesions (internal scar tissue) that had caused another serious intestinal obstruction.

 

Unfortunately, multiple abdominal surgeries have left her with significant abdominal wall defects, including hernias and separation of the abdominal muscles, resulting in pronounced abdominal protrusion and distention.

 

And here's the heartbreaking part: Because of extensive internal scarring and adhesions, her doctors consider surgery solely to correct her abdominal appearance too risky. Further surgery may be necessary if she develops another intestinal obstruction, but cosmetic correction is not a safe option.

 

So, let's begin.

 

On most days when my beautiful, kind Heather ventures out, someone feels compelled to approach her with a comment such as:

 

1. "OMG, you are the cutest mom-to-be!"
2. "Are you expecting twins?"
3. "When is your baby due? It must be soon!"
4. "Gosh, you're really carrying that baby out front. You don't look pregnant anywhere else!"

 

Here's the bottom line: These comments crush Heather.

 

She often comes home in tears. She usually explains that she isn't pregnant and that she has a medical condition.

 

But here's what really gets me.

 

She worries about making THEM feel bad.

That's right. The person who has just been embarrassed and hurt is more concerned about the feelings of the person who made the thoughtless remark.

 

That's Heather.

 

Now, imagine this.

 

The weather is finally cooling down, and Heather decides to put on a light jacket and walk to her neighborhood grocery store to pick up a few things.

 

Nothing unusual. Just an ordinary day and an ordinary errand.  Except it wasn't.

 

As she was walking INTO the store—not leaving, mind you—a security guard stopped her and questioned what she was hiding beneath her jacket.

 

Perplexed, she asked whether he thought she was concealing a weapon or something.

He responded that she appeared to be smuggling something into the store.

 

Let me repeat that.

 

She was walking INTO a grocery store to shop.

 

What the security guard apparently interpreted as concealed merchandise was, in fact, the visible result of a medical condition.

 

Now, I certainly don't expect a security guard—or anyone else—to know Heather's medical history. And I understand that security personnel have a responsibility to investigate legitimate concerns.

 

But there is a profound difference between doing your job and making someone feel humiliated because of their physical appearance.

 

This encounter went so far that Heather was asked to open her jacket to demonstrate that she wasn't concealing anything.

 

Imagine having to expose the very part of your body that has already caused you so much emotional pain, simply to prove that you aren't doing anything wrong.  All because you wanted to buy a few groceries.

 

Sadly, this isn't the first time strangers have made assumptions about Heather's body.

Years ago, when her chronic health struggles began, she became painfully thin. Strangers looked at her and made assumptions about anorexia.

 

Today, those same years of illness and multiple abdominal surgeries have changed the shape of her abdomen, and strangers make entirely different assumptions.

 

Same woman. Different appearance. Same problem.

 

People see a body and assume they know the story behind it.  But they don't.

And here's something worth remembering:

 

Kindness doesn't require knowing someone's story. It simply requires remembering that everyone has one.

 

Now, back to Momma Bear. After hearing what happened, I was ready to help Heather write a letter to corporate management. I wanted to encourage additional training for security personnel on how to treat customers respectfully, particularly those with visible medical conditions or disabilities.

 

I wasn't demanding that the security guard be reprimanded or fired. I simply wanted the incident acknowledged and, hopefully, to prevent something similar from happening to another person.

 

But my sweet Heather had other thoughts.

 

She took some time to think about what happened. She had already spoken with the store's general manager, who listened sympathetically to her concerns. She also felt that the security guard recognized his mistake and was embarrassed by his actions.

 

For Heather, that was enough.

 

She had spoken up for herself. She had been heard. And she decided to move forward.

 

On her own terms.

 

I couldn't be prouder of her.  Here's what I wish people understood.  Heather should not have to dress differently, hide her abdomen, or explain her medical history to be treated with dignity.

 

Neither should anyone else.

 

We all notice things about other people. That's human nature. But noticing someone's appearance does not give us permission to comment on it, question them about it, or humiliate them.

 

And sometimes, what seems like an innocent question to one person can reopen years of pain for another.

 

So, to my sweet, kind, beautiful Heather:

 

I love you. So many people love you. And I am incredibly proud of the grace and strength you showed in handling an experience that never should have happened.  Your body has been through more than most people will ever know. It has changed, but it does not define you.  And you certainly don't owe strangers an explanation.

 

Now, to that security guard and anyone else who feels entitled to make thoughtless comments about another person's appearance:  Be thankful Heather was by herself.

Because I might not have been quite so gracious.  And you, too, could become a nameless character in my blogging world!

 

Growing up, we used to say:

 

"I'm rubber, you're glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you!"

Immature? Perhaps.

 

But after watching my daughter endure years of insensitive comments, I'm beginning to appreciate the wisdom of a good old-fashioned playground comeback.

 

So there!

And before I put away my Momma Bear claws, I'll leave you with one final thought:

 

You never know the story behind the body. So please, choose kindness.

 

xo,

Lisa ❤️