Supermodel Iman's Daughter + Gastric Bypass

That changed soon enough. One month postsurgery, I was back at work and down 20 pounds. Other people couldn’t see the difference, but I could feel it. Before the surgery, a reasonable portion left me feeling deprived; I was always thinking about my next meal. After the surgery, good food in moderation was unbelievably satisfying. To feel that way and lose weight so quickly was both exhilarating and strange at the same time.

Six months in, I was down another 80 pounds. For the first time in my life, I didn’t have to shop in a plus-size store. (Yay, H&M!) But it felt foreign and made me anxious. There were so many things to choose from, I enlisted friends to help me shop, because I couldn’t tackle it all at once.

A year later I was 160 pounds and, because of my height, a size 6. A staggering number of people walked up to me asking if I was a model. To my surprise, it really bugged me—it still does. Once, I snapped at a cashier: “You know, being a model is not the only thing an attractive woman can do with her life, and being beautiful is not the only thing that women should aspire to. I’m so sick of a woman’s entire stock being in her looks!” The room went quiet and everyone stared at me. I put on my sunglasses and tried to walk proudly out the door. But the security guard stopped me and said, “You’re too pretty to be so angry.” Really?! It was one of many postsurgery realizations: Stacked Zu laughed loudly and often, always the plus-size life of the party. Slender Zu, on the other hand—well, that chick can occasionally be *****ly.

Eighteen months later, my body had settled at 165 pounds and a size 8. I jumped in the shower one morning, and it dawned on me that I hadn’t crept out of bed in months. The “aha” moment that had changed my life was just a memory.

It’s hard to explain how it feels to lose so much weight so fast. I tell my friends that it’s like becoming famous overnight—suddenly all eyes are on you. But there’s more to it than that. The difference between Stacked Zu and Slender Zu is like being a fluffy Angora cat and then suddenly being shaved. Being naked feels really naked now. I’m slender, but there are lots of folds and limpness where the voluptuousness used to be. No amount of clever lighting and push-up bras can disguise the fact that my breasts fall to my abdomen when I take off my bra, and men want to know why. The old me was unabashedly voluptuous and sexy, no explanations necessary.When I was a size 26, men approached me. Now when I walk into a room, guys really pay attention. But the sad fact is that volume hasn’t improved the quality. Most of the men who talk to me now aren’t men I would consider. Recently, a guy at a jazz club was staring at me for so long, I had to ask him if we knew each other. He explained that he was trying “to get drunk enough to get up the courage to talk to you.” Sorry, but liquid courage is not what I’m looking for in a man. Like it or not, being 300-plus pounds weeded out some of the losers who were too superficial to approach me back then.

Perhaps it’s just this kind of attention that has given me a deeper appreciation for my mother’s beauty. Now I realize it’s so much more than her appearance. What people respond to is her grace and elegance, her independent thinking and charity for others.

Looking back, the lesson that a woman’s worth can never be found on a scale is one that I have known all along. I’m proud of the fact that at 330 pounds, I didn’t hide from life, and I didn’t let my weight define me. At 165 pounds, I won’t do that either.