This post is going to be a little bit cheesy, and a little bit sappy and I am going to indulge in some squishy gooshy lovey dove nonsense and possibly, some overwrought metaphors (shocking!) and then tie it all up in a sentimental bow, and you may just want to yack, and that is okay. I'll probably want to yack, too. We can yack together, and it'll be even more romantic.

But listen: I want to say thank you. I don't say it enough. I am too shy to respond to you all in the comments, and a little self-conscious, and totally weird, but every day, I read what you guys are saying, and your e-mails, and every day I think thank you, for saying that, and thank you for telling me that, and thank you for being so kind, and so generous to me, for having such good ideas and such incredible feedback, for being funny and smart and lovely and for reading this site and for making it as interesting and as relevant as it manages to be.

These posts are snapshots of my neuroses, my issues, my craziness and my giddiness and my weirdnesses, and it astonishes me, every single time, that the things I say here are useful to you guys in some way; that what I'm saying has relevance to your life, and what you think and how you think and how you're trying to live your own life. Weight-loss surgery is hardly a universal experience, but weight loss, being healthy, dealing with your body and trying to understand it and be comfortable in it, to really see what you look like and how you fit in the world—it turns out that these are the things that are universal.

It delights me when you tell me yes, that's exactly what I was thinking, and you have to know that when you say that, I am as thrilled myself, because you understand what I'm talking about. You get it. Maybe I'm not completely fucking off my rocker, and I'm definitely not alone. It's so nice to not be alone. But you probably knew that already.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for your amazing support, every single, solitary, sometimes ridiculous day. Thank you for your sympathy and your empathy. For talking me through the rough patches, and shoring up my insecurities, for letting me be insecure, but also kicking my ass. For having stories to tell me in return that make me understand that I am not the lonely little snowflake I thought I was, when I was feeling sorry for myself. For making me feel strong, and awesome, and kickass. For being, all of you, strong, and awesome, and kickass.