HI!!!!!!! Helllllllooooooooooo??????!!!!
I have been thinking about blogging for days which turned into weeks which turned into months.
June was the busiest month EVER. We had guests every weekend and an engagement party and we took a trip to Florida to visit best friends and I am currently working two part-time jobs which actually equals one full-time job. The jobs are in different cities and both operate under southern terms (LAST MINUTE EVERYTHING), so I will have my day all planned out and then I will get a text saying to come in (unplanned) or don't come in (as planned) and the whole thing can suck it. It isn't forever and I already have a full-time job lined up when I move, so I can make this work for a few more months. A paycheck is a paycheck and it is really nice to have one (or two!) again!
The wedding planning is coming along. All of a sudden it is getting SO CLOSE. I will be a married lady in less than four months. Gulp. So much to do, but I have my lists and hope to get most of it squared away this month which is actually making me very excited. It is hard to tell clients this, but so much of the wedding planning and decision making (after vendors are selected and contracts are signed) happens just a few months out, so I decided to make July the real decision making month, so I don't have to make final decisions more than once. My invitations have already been printed out and they are FABULOUS! I seriously cannot stop staring at and fondling (not the right word….) them!!!!
So, my weight…..anyone who reads here even just a little knows that it is a huge issue for me.
Over the weekend, Crush and I visited his grandmother for a quick dinner and she was in rare form. I sadly cannot share a lot of what she said about other people because it is not PC and truly awful and she is actually (I am hoping to still think) a very interesting and wonderful person. She comes from a different time and she is currently isolated and alone a lot and I have seen it happen with my own grandmother, that kind of loneliness can create an opinion that isn't nice and often isn't true. She is becoming bitter. Bitter is never much fun.
On Saturday, before we went to eat at a restaurant, Grandmother offered us some cheese and crackers and wine which is very traditional around here. A little cocktail hour. I declined the cheese and crackers as I have been doing for months (I just don't find it worth the calories personally and crackers are a very binge inducing food for me) and then this little conversation happened:
Grandmother: Are you trying to lose weight for the wedding?
R&F: Yes, I have been for a while, not just for the wedding, also for my health.
(She eyes me up and down slowly)
Grandmother: Really??? I haven't noticed a change.
R&F: Yes, I am losing very slowly. I am down a few sizes and it is coming along.
Grandmother: I can't tell. But it is hard to tell with you big girls. You really need to get on it, time is ticking away. You really don't want to be a plus sized bride. Your photo will be in the paper.
R&F: I will keep this all in mind, thank you for the suggestion (what Smartie Best Friend told me to say when you don't want advice, but want to be polite, it shuts down all unwanted commentary. For real! Try it.).
As I sat on her antique couch in the parlor (seriously), I felt my eyes well up with tears, but I got myself together. This is an opinion of a woman almost ninety who comments on every one's weight including her own granddaughter who is WAY too skinny now, but used to be a lot closer to my size. It is funny when you start seeing the flaws in other people's families. It takes time, but no family is perfect.
My own grandmother also has an issue with my body. I discussed it briefly with my sis over text yesterday and she offered me some great insight. My body is tall and broad. I am 5'10". It isn't a body that was around so much a century ago. Women are getting taller and broader and now it isn't so uncommon to see a taller lady. A bigger lady. A beautiful lady who is a presence because of the space she commands when she walks into a room.
I kept to myself about Grandmother's comments. It didn't even really register to Crush. She insults him on the regular about his hair, clothes and posture. Grandmothers are like that a lot and he is immune to commentary which is a quality I find very endearing in him. I cried a bit to myself in the shower yesterday as I wanted life in South Carolina to be free of everything I hated about Chicago, including comments about my weight, but enough idealizing reality! Life is life and a thousand miles doesn't preserve me from idiots. They roam the ENTIRE world.
I haven't binged in months. Months.
I feel so much better.
I am taking it day by day and I can't believe it sometimes. Binging was my best friend for nearly four years. Binging was my constant companion. Binging was my reward for work completed. Binging was a focus to fill my time when many of my friends were busy with their husbands and children and I felt like I couldn't bother them. Binging was my dirty secret that I wanted to keep hidden even as I had to continue to buy larger pants.
Now for THE REAL (I have given bits and pieces in context, but here is the total situation) weight recap:
- My lowest adult weight ever that I remember was 165 pounds. I got there right around my sister's wedding almost five years ago.
- When I started to date Awful, I didn't even realize it at the time, but I began using food as a coping mechanism because I was in an unbalanced and emotionally abusive relationship. One year after my sister's wedding, I was up nearly 50 pounds. The morning of my tummy tuck, I weighed 211 pounds.
- When I moved home with my folks, my weight fluctuated. I began taking the ADHD medicine, Concerta, to help me cope and function. Secretly, I wanted it because I was desperate to lose weight. These kind of medicines make me lose my appetite for weeks and I wanted the easy way out and I needed a push to literally get out of bed because I was so depressed (why my doctor even suggested it, I literally couldn't move some mornings). On the medicine, I lost about 15 pounds. The bounce back effect for me was brutal. I had severe withdrawals and craved carbs, candy and junk food in abundant amounts. I put on all the weight I lost and more.
- During the almost two years I lived with my folks, I was stressed out and depressed. I was in a cycle of using food as a emotional release and I was hurting myself. Gorging so badly, it was like I was in an alcohol stupor many days. My weight ballooned from time to time. For a few weeks, I wouldn't eat much and then I would quickly lose 10 pounds. Then I would eat again and gain weight rapidly. The cycle repeated over and over again. During this time, I began seeking therapy for my food addiction. It took a little bit of practice and patience to take what I was learning and apply it to my life, but I started changing my habits and daily routine. Little my little. At first, I could only go a few days between binges, but it was progress.
- When I moved to Charleston, I got on the scale after allowing myself to eat everything I wanted before I left Chicago. A huge struggle for me in my parents' house involved the little treats (ice cream, bread, potato chips, crackers) they have that I couldn't have around me in the beginning of seeking therapy. I am now okay around all food because I use my strategies and I never allow myself to get too hungry. When I got on the scale my first day in Charleston, finally ready to face this weight battle head on, my weight was…..GULP….my weight was 227 pounds. THE HIGHEST WEIGHT I HAVE EVER BEEN. From my thinnest, I was up 62 pounds.
- I decided to go slow and steady. One day at a time. A few pounds at a time. I eat tons of fruits and veggies and lean protein. I love cottage cheese and popcorn. I get excited over new salad recipes. Fresh peaches and watermelon get me going. I allow myself my absolute favorites once in a while: a few slices of Papa Johns pizza, a scrumptious gourmet burger and fries at local place famous for them or a delectable ice cream cone from a candy shop I love. Treats are a part of life. I don't hate myself anymore after I eat them or allow a little slip-up to define my mood and turn me into a total bitch like I used to. Food is food. It isn't the boss of me. There is always room for some yummy when I eat pretty nutritiously most of the time.
- I got on the scale yesterday afternoon feeling VERY defeated by Grandmother. The scale read 190. I have lost 37 pounds since October. My goal weight has been 175 pounds (I think 165 actually looks a little too thin on me) for the wedding and I know that I will get there. Just a little more to go. 175 is my life goal weight. Whereas, it isn't my skinniest, it is a weight I feel healthy and strong at and one I think I can maintain for the long haul. It is a good choice for me.
Whew….this was not easy for me to share. But, I am proud of myself. I have come a long way and for the first time ever, I haven't starved my way down in weight. I want to jump up and down!
Yes, Grandmother may never approve of my big. But, the important thing is that her grandson loves every inch of me and always has, even at ALL of my sizes.
Showing posts with label Weight Gain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Weight Gain. Show all posts
Monday, July 7, 2014
Monday, May 12, 2014
More Tummy Talk and Body Acceptance Thoughts
THANK YOU ALL for your wonderful feedback and for reading. I find great satisfaction from sharing my CORE here. I know that life online is often sunshine and flowers and if I wasn't anonymous, mine would be, too. Who wants to post the bad stuff about themselves publicly? NOT ME! I give great credit to the people online who put it ALL out there with their name AND face. I have a major confidence crush on all of YOU!
I love sharing my real story because I know it is a story so many of us share. As people, we have dealt with successes and failures. We have yearned for something that didn't work out. We have had our hearts broken. Struggled with our self confidence. Experienced emotional anguish and friends that couldn't give us what we really needed. And then we jumped online and we googled our whoa and we ended up on a message board or blog or website and we didn't feel so alone anymore.
The struggle with my body has been long and dark. I have wanted thin for so long that I forgot why I even wanted it at all. I have always associated health with being skinny and they are not the same. When I was at my thinnest, I abused food, exercise, drugs and alcohol. I was on tons of antidepressants. I yearned to be accepted by men and included by women. I craved love. I feared that the word "fat" would be associated with my name.
I fought with food.
I went through periods where I wouldn't eat more than diet soda and broccoli. I got thin. I binged so regularly that my stomach could easily accommodate an entire medium Chicago deep dish pizza (this is no small feat….I could have probably taken Adam from Man vs. Food at an eating competition!). I got fat. I got on the scale and cried. I got thin. I drove miles to stores where no one would see me, so I could buy larger pants. I got fat. I restricted so much that bridesmaid dresses had to be taken in three full sizes to fit my new starved shaped. I got thin.
I avoided mirrors. I avoided full fat dairy. I avoided plans out with friends. I avoided the bread basket and open bottles of wine. I avoided scales. I avoided a break in my routine. I avoided sleeping in and giving my body a break from the rigorous torture I was making it endure.
And then I was thin again.
Life was supposed to be perfect now, right?
But, where were the men and my friends and why wasn't wearing a smaller size as fun as I thought it would be? The rush of adrenaline watching the scale tick down only lasts for so long….a bite won't hurt, right? My control would waiver. I would spend hours thinking about a bag of gummy bears or a burrito. I would allow myself a nibble of fresh baguette or a tiny taste of tiramisu and I would become a frenzied dog in heat. There wasn't enough I could eat to fill up my broken heart and spirit.
And then I was fat again.
Avoidance mode. The mirrors, the people, the plans and the gym because I was too embarrassed to be seen in public. I have let people down. I have not showed up when I should have. It is so much easier to be "tired, sick or too busy" than hungover from food or without anything in my closet that fits. Would anyone even believe me if I told them that I couldn't come to dinner "because I do not have anything to wear?"
When I realized that my food addiction was so much more than a love of eating and cooking and actually involved deep seeded emotional issues that I needed to work through, I was scared. Could I overcome this? Food has been my friend. I still yearn for the comfort that only unrestricted calorie consumption and Bravo can give me. To glaze over just like a Krispy Creme. But it is no way to live. It is dark, isolating, sad and empty. When I feel the compulsion to shut in, the most important thing I can do is get outside for a walk, or go to the library or call a best friend. I need to break that moment because if I give in, one binge has the power to turn into months and months of self induced destruction by food. I deserve better.
I will never be as thin as I once was by starvation. If my body wants to amaze me and go places that it hasn't in years (as I have seen from my sister and a few best friends after babies and breastfeeding), then I will relish my shape, but no more than I love my body now.
I know I am a broken record, but my goal is to get to a place of total peace with my body. I want to find the optimal weight for my build (still have a little to go, but not a ton). I want to be healthy, strong and free from worrying about my tummy, thighs or arms. I want to get dressed and look in the mirror and be fine with what I see. To not pinch an inch or fantasize about a dress I used to wear or sigh when I put my bronzer over a lovely fleshy cheek and not a sunken cheekbone.
I am getting there. Everyday isn't as good as I would like. I sometimes eat lots of Special K bars out of habit. The rustling of wrappers comforts me still. Once in a while, my want of an ice cream cone outweighs my need and it may even be my third dessert of that day. Sometimes the scale goes up and not down.
But, I am enjoying the give and take. The downward trend overtime. I am tracking everything, even the way over my calorie days like yesterday which included mimosas, potato chips and a bakery cookie. But it also included family, stories from the past, long walks, lots of hugs and a brilliant beach moon. Life happens and I want to learn to live in a world where food and my guilt with food, do not intersect.
The nonstop restricting works, but without good habits, my weight will never stay stable. My goal once I get to the right weight for me is to stay within seven pounds (not including pregnancies hopefully to come, then I will stay within whatever the doctor recommends) for the rest of my life. I won't be the skinniest I ever have been, but I will be the most stable. I want to chose a weight (I am still seeking what may feel right) that is realistic for life.
Stability may not be as exciting, but the Weight Roller Coaster is one ride I am ready to get off of!
I love sharing my real story because I know it is a story so many of us share. As people, we have dealt with successes and failures. We have yearned for something that didn't work out. We have had our hearts broken. Struggled with our self confidence. Experienced emotional anguish and friends that couldn't give us what we really needed. And then we jumped online and we googled our whoa and we ended up on a message board or blog or website and we didn't feel so alone anymore.
The struggle with my body has been long and dark. I have wanted thin for so long that I forgot why I even wanted it at all. I have always associated health with being skinny and they are not the same. When I was at my thinnest, I abused food, exercise, drugs and alcohol. I was on tons of antidepressants. I yearned to be accepted by men and included by women. I craved love. I feared that the word "fat" would be associated with my name.
I fought with food.
I went through periods where I wouldn't eat more than diet soda and broccoli. I got thin. I binged so regularly that my stomach could easily accommodate an entire medium Chicago deep dish pizza (this is no small feat….I could have probably taken Adam from Man vs. Food at an eating competition!). I got fat. I got on the scale and cried. I got thin. I drove miles to stores where no one would see me, so I could buy larger pants. I got fat. I restricted so much that bridesmaid dresses had to be taken in three full sizes to fit my new starved shaped. I got thin.
I avoided mirrors. I avoided full fat dairy. I avoided plans out with friends. I avoided the bread basket and open bottles of wine. I avoided scales. I avoided a break in my routine. I avoided sleeping in and giving my body a break from the rigorous torture I was making it endure.
And then I was thin again.
Life was supposed to be perfect now, right?
But, where were the men and my friends and why wasn't wearing a smaller size as fun as I thought it would be? The rush of adrenaline watching the scale tick down only lasts for so long….a bite won't hurt, right? My control would waiver. I would spend hours thinking about a bag of gummy bears or a burrito. I would allow myself a nibble of fresh baguette or a tiny taste of tiramisu and I would become a frenzied dog in heat. There wasn't enough I could eat to fill up my broken heart and spirit.
And then I was fat again.
Avoidance mode. The mirrors, the people, the plans and the gym because I was too embarrassed to be seen in public. I have let people down. I have not showed up when I should have. It is so much easier to be "tired, sick or too busy" than hungover from food or without anything in my closet that fits. Would anyone even believe me if I told them that I couldn't come to dinner "because I do not have anything to wear?"
When I realized that my food addiction was so much more than a love of eating and cooking and actually involved deep seeded emotional issues that I needed to work through, I was scared. Could I overcome this? Food has been my friend. I still yearn for the comfort that only unrestricted calorie consumption and Bravo can give me. To glaze over just like a Krispy Creme. But it is no way to live. It is dark, isolating, sad and empty. When I feel the compulsion to shut in, the most important thing I can do is get outside for a walk, or go to the library or call a best friend. I need to break that moment because if I give in, one binge has the power to turn into months and months of self induced destruction by food. I deserve better.
I will never be as thin as I once was by starvation. If my body wants to amaze me and go places that it hasn't in years (as I have seen from my sister and a few best friends after babies and breastfeeding), then I will relish my shape, but no more than I love my body now.
I know I am a broken record, but my goal is to get to a place of total peace with my body. I want to find the optimal weight for my build (still have a little to go, but not a ton). I want to be healthy, strong and free from worrying about my tummy, thighs or arms. I want to get dressed and look in the mirror and be fine with what I see. To not pinch an inch or fantasize about a dress I used to wear or sigh when I put my bronzer over a lovely fleshy cheek and not a sunken cheekbone.
I am getting there. Everyday isn't as good as I would like. I sometimes eat lots of Special K bars out of habit. The rustling of wrappers comforts me still. Once in a while, my want of an ice cream cone outweighs my need and it may even be my third dessert of that day. Sometimes the scale goes up and not down.
But, I am enjoying the give and take. The downward trend overtime. I am tracking everything, even the way over my calorie days like yesterday which included mimosas, potato chips and a bakery cookie. But it also included family, stories from the past, long walks, lots of hugs and a brilliant beach moon. Life happens and I want to learn to live in a world where food and my guilt with food, do not intersect.
The nonstop restricting works, but without good habits, my weight will never stay stable. My goal once I get to the right weight for me is to stay within seven pounds (not including pregnancies hopefully to come, then I will stay within whatever the doctor recommends) for the rest of my life. I won't be the skinniest I ever have been, but I will be the most stable. I want to chose a weight (I am still seeking what may feel right) that is realistic for life.
Stability may not be as exciting, but the Weight Roller Coaster is one ride I am ready to get off of!
Friday, May 9, 2014
Bathing Beauty and the Story of My Tummy
Things are finally happening here in Charleston! I am interviewing for jobs, walking around the city for hours while I rack up steps on my Fitbit and finding the ease of familiarity that sets in when I don't have to use my GPS to get to the gym or the grocery store.
It feels good.
I have said it a million times, but transitions are my enemy. I like the feeling of knowing exactly what will happen. I like schedules and set routines. I like knowing my way around. I need to stop being such a clenched hard-on.
Lately, I am trying my best to be in the moment. I am reading books I have always wanted to and I am finding peace (and not anxiety) in my thoughts. I am eating and sleeping better. I am trying my best to react minimally to countless last minute plans (thanks (NOT) in-laws to be) and to be open to experiencing new friends and new places.
I have mentioned it before, but I had a tummy tuck a few years ago. It was something that was encouraged by Awful and I am still conflicted that I went through with it at all. Especially because I wasn't open about it with my family. Ever since that major surgery, I know that I can't do anything that I wouldn't tell them. That is my conscious barometer.
My stomach has always been "my area." Growing up it stuck out like a shelf. When I glance at the little girl photos of me, I look like I swallowed an entire watermelon. Firm and full. By junior high, it got softer and smaller. I had one large roll when I stood and three medium rolls when I sat. Even though I had thin arms and legs, my stomach labeled me as fat and I was known as a fat girl when the boys ranked the girls. By high school, I started to get breasts and hips. My stomach flattened a bit and above the belly button, I had a very distinct waist and firm upper midsection. I could finally see my feet when I showered! Below the belly button was another story entirely. I was mushy with a soft lower belly. I was told I had a fupa (fat upper pelvic (pussy) area). I did. When I got to college, I put on weight VERY rapidly. About twenty-five pounds in a matter of weeks. I developed angry red and itchy stretch marks on my lower tummy. They haunted and depressed me every time I looked in the mirror and discouraged me from making the necessary healthy eating changes I needed to. As an eighteen year old girl, I thought to myself, "why lose weight, because of my stretch marks, I will never be able to wear a bikini anyway!" Eventually, I did lose weight. My first big weight loss came a year and a half after my first big weight gain. The stretch marks started to fade a bit and with a higher cut bikini bottom (which were in style much more in 2001 than they are now), I could even hide them.
I rode this weight roller coaster all throughout my twenties. Up and down and up again. At any weight, my stomach was never socially acceptable. It stuck out in T-shirts. Sheath dresses pulled across my lower abdomen and a-line dresses made me look ripe with child. If I had a quarter for every time someone asked me when I was due, I would have at least 10 bucks! And it never got less traumatic! The last time someone asked me, I was at my lowest adult weight which was about five years ago. I died a bit inside. All of my hardwork and discipline and exercise and Spanx and thoughtful dressing (every time I tried to wear boho flowy tops, someone asked me, so I gave those up cold turkey) and STILL….I was still being mistaken for pregnant.
When I met Awful, I was on a boat. I was wearing a bikini. I was thin for me. He later told me that he noticed my smile, my toned legs and how self conscious I was in my bathing suit. He said "the way you sat with a towel draped across your midsection, I could tell how self conscious you were about your belly." It was true. Awful knew how to pick out the weak and insecure and I was both. After we started dating he would tell me that he would "pay to have my stomach lobbed off" and he would squeeze it and call my rolls "the stormy sea." It killed me. All I wanted was a nice smooth flat tummy. I wanted to feel what it was like to not have to worry about being called pregnant by a stranger on the train.
So, one day when Awful was grabbing at my stomach and kneading it aggressively like dough, I took him up on his offer to pay for a tummy tuck. I decided that I wanted to no longer have this weight hanging around my middle. I didn't want a man to judge me for being lumpy. And this kills me. Because I actually secretly loved my stomach. My tummy was a part of me and my own stupid insecurities couldn't let me celebrate it. I am imperfect. So there.
My tummy tuck has settled and it's not without fault. I have a scar and beneath it, I still have stretch marks. I knew that both were going to be there post-operation. They are just very low and now hidden in my pubic hair area. I have two little keloid scars on my upper tummy from liposuction that accompanied my procedure. My skin is very prone to scaring and stretch marks, so this doesn't bother me all that much. The scars have been resistant to silicone sheets and injections and ointments to help reduce them and at this point, it's fine. They only person that really sees my belly is Crush and I hope to keep it this way. I know his love is so pure that he doesn't even notice my lumps, humps and bumps.
In clothes, my body has been hugely improved. Since the procedure, even at my heaviest, I have NEVER been mistaken for pregnant. This in itself pleases me to no bounds. I feel like I can go out in public and walk freely without having snooping glances thrown at me…."is she pregnant or not?!?" I look foxy in tight dresses and I love looking at myself from the side.
I know that my flat tummy may be fleeting. I will hopefully get pregnant and my stomach will change and I will embrace and love my post baby body. Sometimes I secretly look forward to my cosmetic tummy becoming undone, so it will officially erase Awful from my body. I would actually take a not so flat tummy over having to be reminded of him on a daily basis. When I look at my belly, I often think of just how AWFUL he was.
For years, all I wanted to do was to wear a bikini. It was a dream of mine. I fantasized about it in high school and cut out bikini clad models from YM for diet motivation. When I finally made my WeightWatchers goal weight in college and bought a bikini at age twenty-one, I cried tears of joy in the Dillards dressing room. But, in a two piece, I never felt confident. I positioned myself laying down strategically on lounge chairs and waited for friends to be deep in conversations before I would venture into the ocean or restroom. I hid out on pool steps, so my midsection was covered by chlorinated water and always put a towel, pillow or book in front of my belly when I wasn't soaking myself.
As I get older, I want to feel good in my skin. I want to feel proud of the person I am. Imperfections and all. Even if I am still sporting twenty or so extra pounds. Even if many of my friends still wear bikinis and still look amazing in them. So, I took a new approach and I bought a one piece. I am never going back…..
In my one pieces (I now own three that I LOVE), I feel curvy, shapely and sexy. My tummy looks flat, my shoulders look strong, I have no back fat (I hated how I looked from the back in a bikini). I feel like I can sit upright on my lounge chair and walk anywhere I want without a towel or cover up. It is extraordinarily liberating. I look forward to putting on my bathing suit and heading to the beach because I love how I look. I know I am projecting confidence and even I can't believe it, but I have been complimented at the beach several (for real) times in my new favorite one piece (retro style with black and white polka dots) and I even had a lady chase me down to ask me where I got it from (Target). I think anyone can wear anything they want to the beach, regardless of their size. For me, no matter my weight, I just never felt at peace in a two piece.
As the days to my wedding tick down, I anticipate how I will look on my big day. I don't care about being skinny anymore.
The way I want to look is HAPPY.
It feels good.
I have said it a million times, but transitions are my enemy. I like the feeling of knowing exactly what will happen. I like schedules and set routines. I like knowing my way around. I need to stop being such a clenched hard-on.
Lately, I am trying my best to be in the moment. I am reading books I have always wanted to and I am finding peace (and not anxiety) in my thoughts. I am eating and sleeping better. I am trying my best to react minimally to countless last minute plans (thanks (NOT) in-laws to be) and to be open to experiencing new friends and new places.
I have mentioned it before, but I had a tummy tuck a few years ago. It was something that was encouraged by Awful and I am still conflicted that I went through with it at all. Especially because I wasn't open about it with my family. Ever since that major surgery, I know that I can't do anything that I wouldn't tell them. That is my conscious barometer.
My stomach has always been "my area." Growing up it stuck out like a shelf. When I glance at the little girl photos of me, I look like I swallowed an entire watermelon. Firm and full. By junior high, it got softer and smaller. I had one large roll when I stood and three medium rolls when I sat. Even though I had thin arms and legs, my stomach labeled me as fat and I was known as a fat girl when the boys ranked the girls. By high school, I started to get breasts and hips. My stomach flattened a bit and above the belly button, I had a very distinct waist and firm upper midsection. I could finally see my feet when I showered! Below the belly button was another story entirely. I was mushy with a soft lower belly. I was told I had a fupa (fat upper pelvic (pussy) area). I did. When I got to college, I put on weight VERY rapidly. About twenty-five pounds in a matter of weeks. I developed angry red and itchy stretch marks on my lower tummy. They haunted and depressed me every time I looked in the mirror and discouraged me from making the necessary healthy eating changes I needed to. As an eighteen year old girl, I thought to myself, "why lose weight, because of my stretch marks, I will never be able to wear a bikini anyway!" Eventually, I did lose weight. My first big weight loss came a year and a half after my first big weight gain. The stretch marks started to fade a bit and with a higher cut bikini bottom (which were in style much more in 2001 than they are now), I could even hide them.
I rode this weight roller coaster all throughout my twenties. Up and down and up again. At any weight, my stomach was never socially acceptable. It stuck out in T-shirts. Sheath dresses pulled across my lower abdomen and a-line dresses made me look ripe with child. If I had a quarter for every time someone asked me when I was due, I would have at least 10 bucks! And it never got less traumatic! The last time someone asked me, I was at my lowest adult weight which was about five years ago. I died a bit inside. All of my hardwork and discipline and exercise and Spanx and thoughtful dressing (every time I tried to wear boho flowy tops, someone asked me, so I gave those up cold turkey) and STILL….I was still being mistaken for pregnant.
When I met Awful, I was on a boat. I was wearing a bikini. I was thin for me. He later told me that he noticed my smile, my toned legs and how self conscious I was in my bathing suit. He said "the way you sat with a towel draped across your midsection, I could tell how self conscious you were about your belly." It was true. Awful knew how to pick out the weak and insecure and I was both. After we started dating he would tell me that he would "pay to have my stomach lobbed off" and he would squeeze it and call my rolls "the stormy sea." It killed me. All I wanted was a nice smooth flat tummy. I wanted to feel what it was like to not have to worry about being called pregnant by a stranger on the train.
So, one day when Awful was grabbing at my stomach and kneading it aggressively like dough, I took him up on his offer to pay for a tummy tuck. I decided that I wanted to no longer have this weight hanging around my middle. I didn't want a man to judge me for being lumpy. And this kills me. Because I actually secretly loved my stomach. My tummy was a part of me and my own stupid insecurities couldn't let me celebrate it. I am imperfect. So there.
My tummy tuck has settled and it's not without fault. I have a scar and beneath it, I still have stretch marks. I knew that both were going to be there post-operation. They are just very low and now hidden in my pubic hair area. I have two little keloid scars on my upper tummy from liposuction that accompanied my procedure. My skin is very prone to scaring and stretch marks, so this doesn't bother me all that much. The scars have been resistant to silicone sheets and injections and ointments to help reduce them and at this point, it's fine. They only person that really sees my belly is Crush and I hope to keep it this way. I know his love is so pure that he doesn't even notice my lumps, humps and bumps.
In clothes, my body has been hugely improved. Since the procedure, even at my heaviest, I have NEVER been mistaken for pregnant. This in itself pleases me to no bounds. I feel like I can go out in public and walk freely without having snooping glances thrown at me…."is she pregnant or not?!?" I look foxy in tight dresses and I love looking at myself from the side.
I know that my flat tummy may be fleeting. I will hopefully get pregnant and my stomach will change and I will embrace and love my post baby body. Sometimes I secretly look forward to my cosmetic tummy becoming undone, so it will officially erase Awful from my body. I would actually take a not so flat tummy over having to be reminded of him on a daily basis. When I look at my belly, I often think of just how AWFUL he was.
For years, all I wanted to do was to wear a bikini. It was a dream of mine. I fantasized about it in high school and cut out bikini clad models from YM for diet motivation. When I finally made my WeightWatchers goal weight in college and bought a bikini at age twenty-one, I cried tears of joy in the Dillards dressing room. But, in a two piece, I never felt confident. I positioned myself laying down strategically on lounge chairs and waited for friends to be deep in conversations before I would venture into the ocean or restroom. I hid out on pool steps, so my midsection was covered by chlorinated water and always put a towel, pillow or book in front of my belly when I wasn't soaking myself.
As I get older, I want to feel good in my skin. I want to feel proud of the person I am. Imperfections and all. Even if I am still sporting twenty or so extra pounds. Even if many of my friends still wear bikinis and still look amazing in them. So, I took a new approach and I bought a one piece. I am never going back…..
In my one pieces (I now own three that I LOVE), I feel curvy, shapely and sexy. My tummy looks flat, my shoulders look strong, I have no back fat (I hated how I looked from the back in a bikini). I feel like I can sit upright on my lounge chair and walk anywhere I want without a towel or cover up. It is extraordinarily liberating. I look forward to putting on my bathing suit and heading to the beach because I love how I look. I know I am projecting confidence and even I can't believe it, but I have been complimented at the beach several (for real) times in my new favorite one piece (retro style with black and white polka dots) and I even had a lady chase me down to ask me where I got it from (Target). I think anyone can wear anything they want to the beach, regardless of their size. For me, no matter my weight, I just never felt at peace in a two piece.
As the days to my wedding tick down, I anticipate how I will look on my big day. I don't care about being skinny anymore.
The way I want to look is HAPPY.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Once In A While An Article Really Hits Home
Are you familiar with xojane?
When it first started, I was a huge fan and since then, I don't love the articles as much as I used to, but once in a while, there is an excellent article that really hits home for me, like this one.
Gaining weight has been the hardest thing for me these past few years. Harder than my abusive relationship with Awful, harder than moving back in with my parents at 30, harder than trying to make a long distance relationship work while I run a very stressful (and often ridiculous) business.
I didn't gain 90 pounds in 1 year like the author, but I did gain 45 pounds in less than 4 years and it has been the biggest weight gain I have ever had. Yes, there have been times in the past that I have put on 15-20 pounds in a few months due to stress, happy new love, or simply falling out of my gym routine. But, these 45 pounds have been different. They were put on solely because I was unhappy, severely depressed, and feeling alone. I emotionally ate my way to a place that even I couldn't really understand. I abused food so severely, that I can no longer fully trust myself to nourish my body without hurting myself bite by bite.
As I look back upon my eating history in therapy, I realize that my relationship with food has always been totally restrictive or completely reckless. There has never been moderation and learning it has been difficult. It is hard to try to build healthy limits with something that soothes me, gives me structure, and keeps me company...but it is food?! Food shouldn't be filling all of these emotional needs as much as it does for me. I am relearning my entire way of thinking about it: hunger cues, fulfilling cravings, eating until I am satisfied. I feel like a baby sometimes.
In a quest to get super real with my journey and stop using crutches to pacify my fear of calories and knowing exactly what I am eating, I have been encouraged to stop WeightWatching and begin tracking calories on a calorie tracker. I am using MyFitness Pal (there are a ton of others out there, too). I have tried calorie tracking before, but not in an entirely healthy way....always by majorly restricting to get a quick result. I am so over doing that, finally.
My food therapist encouraged WeightWatchers until I became disordered with my tracking. You see, WeightWatchers constantly changes their programs (almost yearly) with new plan updates which I hate to say, but are most likely business related....they need update things so current members have to relearn and recommit and new members will be encouraged to join. This new program doesn't work as well for me as some of the past ones I have tried. One of the reasons why is because fruit is "free" of points and since I am a binge eater, I can eat 1,000 calories of it no problem. Additionally, each week gets 49 bonus points which can be consumed as an option and since I see any bonus as an invite to binge, I sometimes eat 49 points mindlessly just because I feel I can.
Some days I would enjoy my favorite breakfast, an egg white sandwich and coffee: eggs whites prepared in real butter, a regular English muffin, a slice of real cheddar cheese, a slice of Canadian bacon, and coffee with cream and sugar. This breakfast would be 15 WeightWatcher points or roughly half of my daily allotment of points even though it is less than 500 calories and I aim to eat 1,800 calories each day. So, after breakfast, I would give up because I would have a client meeting where I knew there would be food, or because I would be going out to dinner with friends late in the evening. I would quit midday. The fear of going over my points would leave me anxiety ridden. Calorie wise I could have made it work, but points wise, it would have been tougher. Again, I was playing complete and utter mind games and I was self sabotaging.
I know WeightWatchers is a great program and works for many people. But for me, a chronic binge eater with a much more severe addiction than I initially thought...well, it is very triggering for my own personal issues. Odd, because counting calories (what has been working for me) is often really really triggering for some. You just never know what will work for you unless you try it!
So, I am calorie tracking and I am currently at a 16 pound loss. The weight loss is slowing down, but I am not rushing it. I really want to learn about my food addiction and what I need to do for me. I don't care it is takes 4 years to get the weight off. There is no rush, I am simply NOT going to ever gain the weight again.
I want food to be my friend. Not my best friend, just a friend. I want to enjoy food, look forward to it from time to time, and enjoy the peace and fulfillment it can provide for me. Not there yet, but everyday food is becoming less of an enemy.
When it first started, I was a huge fan and since then, I don't love the articles as much as I used to, but once in a while, there is an excellent article that really hits home for me, like this one.
Gaining weight has been the hardest thing for me these past few years. Harder than my abusive relationship with Awful, harder than moving back in with my parents at 30, harder than trying to make a long distance relationship work while I run a very stressful (and often ridiculous) business.
I didn't gain 90 pounds in 1 year like the author, but I did gain 45 pounds in less than 4 years and it has been the biggest weight gain I have ever had. Yes, there have been times in the past that I have put on 15-20 pounds in a few months due to stress, happy new love, or simply falling out of my gym routine. But, these 45 pounds have been different. They were put on solely because I was unhappy, severely depressed, and feeling alone. I emotionally ate my way to a place that even I couldn't really understand. I abused food so severely, that I can no longer fully trust myself to nourish my body without hurting myself bite by bite.
As I look back upon my eating history in therapy, I realize that my relationship with food has always been totally restrictive or completely reckless. There has never been moderation and learning it has been difficult. It is hard to try to build healthy limits with something that soothes me, gives me structure, and keeps me company...but it is food?! Food shouldn't be filling all of these emotional needs as much as it does for me. I am relearning my entire way of thinking about it: hunger cues, fulfilling cravings, eating until I am satisfied. I feel like a baby sometimes.
In a quest to get super real with my journey and stop using crutches to pacify my fear of calories and knowing exactly what I am eating, I have been encouraged to stop WeightWatching and begin tracking calories on a calorie tracker. I am using MyFitness Pal (there are a ton of others out there, too). I have tried calorie tracking before, but not in an entirely healthy way....always by majorly restricting to get a quick result. I am so over doing that, finally.
My food therapist encouraged WeightWatchers until I became disordered with my tracking. You see, WeightWatchers constantly changes their programs (almost yearly) with new plan updates which I hate to say, but are most likely business related....they need update things so current members have to relearn and recommit and new members will be encouraged to join. This new program doesn't work as well for me as some of the past ones I have tried. One of the reasons why is because fruit is "free" of points and since I am a binge eater, I can eat 1,000 calories of it no problem. Additionally, each week gets 49 bonus points which can be consumed as an option and since I see any bonus as an invite to binge, I sometimes eat 49 points mindlessly just because I feel I can.
Some days I would enjoy my favorite breakfast, an egg white sandwich and coffee: eggs whites prepared in real butter, a regular English muffin, a slice of real cheddar cheese, a slice of Canadian bacon, and coffee with cream and sugar. This breakfast would be 15 WeightWatcher points or roughly half of my daily allotment of points even though it is less than 500 calories and I aim to eat 1,800 calories each day. So, after breakfast, I would give up because I would have a client meeting where I knew there would be food, or because I would be going out to dinner with friends late in the evening. I would quit midday. The fear of going over my points would leave me anxiety ridden. Calorie wise I could have made it work, but points wise, it would have been tougher. Again, I was playing complete and utter mind games and I was self sabotaging.
I know WeightWatchers is a great program and works for many people. But for me, a chronic binge eater with a much more severe addiction than I initially thought...well, it is very triggering for my own personal issues. Odd, because counting calories (what has been working for me) is often really really triggering for some. You just never know what will work for you unless you try it!
So, I am calorie tracking and I am currently at a 16 pound loss. The weight loss is slowing down, but I am not rushing it. I really want to learn about my food addiction and what I need to do for me. I don't care it is takes 4 years to get the weight off. There is no rush, I am simply NOT going to ever gain the weight again.
I want food to be my friend. Not my best friend, just a friend. I want to enjoy food, look forward to it from time to time, and enjoy the peace and fulfillment it can provide for me. Not there yet, but everyday food is becoming less of an enemy.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Jealous (A Post That I Am SUPER Embarrassed To Admit)
This post is hard for me to admit.
I went back and forth about even sharing it.
I feel silly.....but, I made a vow to myself when I started this blog that I wouldn't censor my feelings.
Here goes....
I am jealous.
Oy. I can't help it.
Sissy is in town this week with her babies and husband and we are all getting on like pie. What a relief. In the last year, I have matured a bit in terms of letting things go when I should, but something I can't always shake is sibling rivalry.
Don't get me wrong, Sissy is truly one of my best friends in the entire world. She gets me as only a few do. The bond we have is forever strong. I realize it more and more these past 2 years of my life, which have been my hardest yet.
1 of the reasons why my hometown doesn't feel like home anymore is because Sissy moved over 4 years ago. Ever since then, there has been an emptiness that only she can fill here. When I move down South, I will be a bit closer to her and every less mile counts. Crush and I plan to see them often and next summer we are already planning a week long trip all together in my new state. EXCITED.
But, there is a bit of competition. Dare I admit it, but it is my truth.
A little backstory coming and then back to the jealousy.
WARNING....WARNING: Bit of a weird thing I am going to share next, but it is a part of my ongoing recovery and related to this post as it has to do with appearance...deep breath...
Recently, I have learned that to my family, I am considered the beauty out of Sissy and me. WHY ARE PEOPLE EVEN DISCUSSING THIS? This is not to brag or boast, this is simply to admit the fact that I had no idea....
I am working through it in therapy...letters from my family about me that I open up in my sessions and reflect upon....they reveal what others think and it is painful. What other people think of me is one of my biggest fears. Coming to terms with my "surrounding reality" (what we call our immediate life in therapy) feels like I am being suffocated every week.
I have such a disordered sense of self.
I just do not see myself as pretty. I see myself as ugly, fat, and annoying. The past 2 years have a lot to do with this. I am still not ready yet, but eventually I will share some of my recent downfalls which involved trying to help people from my past as clients. Just wasn't a good fit and brought back feelings of high school and overall stupidity. The push and pull became so much more than a simple professional - client relationship. Gray area at it's best.
I don't know why I even walked into that lions den because I knew it wasn't going to end well. And it didn't. After I separate myself from the midwest by miles and miles, I will be ready to divulge a bit more, I promise.
I take every insult so literally that the compliments escape me completely. Yet, every mean thing ever directed at me has been eternally tattooed on my soul. It was one of the reasons why I loved to drink and get WASTED. To black out from my sounding reality. I literally cannot clearly recall several years of my early 20's...just bits and pieces in dreams. I was running away from myself.
So, back to the jealousy.
Why am I jealous? It seems too silly to even type. Just like typing about my looks, but, well, Sissy is skinny. She had a baby in February and ALL of her baby weight is gone. She is slim, after having 2 babies and I am huge compared to her. BIG. ENORMOUS. We took a photo together and after seeing it, I couldn't even keep it....I had to delete it even though she looked gorgeous.
To clarify a bit, Sissy is a smaller lady than me. About 5 inches shorter and more delicately boned. At her wedding (which she weighs the same now), I was only 20 pounds heavier than her. We looked about the same weight, my arms were actually thinner. Now, I am 45 pounds heavier (I was very slim for me at her wedding, the smallest I have ever been).... this change in myself makes me feel like I can't breathe sometimes.
This weight is heavy on my heart. I haven't had a baby. I haven't been married.
I have eaten my bad feelings and now they are under my skin. Trapping me.
Today, I am home alone working. I have TONS to do. The family is out and I started bawling because how did I lose my self control with food? Why am I back counting points for the 6th time? I vowed after Sissy's wedding that I would stay trim....WHAT HAPPENED...Awful did and lots of emotional turmoil in quick summary...but, I should be able to control my food through out my hardships.
I used to be disciplined with my diet and trying to look my best. When did I give up?
Today, I started to binge again. It was an automatic reflex to my sadness. I had some chocolate and some popcorn. I ate some rice salad and a nectarine. And then I stopped. My throat closed up and I had a mind/body connection that is a new feeling for me. I am just getting used to hearing my voice and allowing it to surpass by anxiety. When it happens, it is almost like having an orgasm. It surprises me.
Mind: "Stop. Stop. You are eating because you are sad about how you feel about yourself. Eating more will not change this. Stop. Remove yourself from the kitchen. Track your WeightWatchers points and move on. You are tired and thirsty. Take a nap."
Body: I threw out what I was binging on, washed my hands, and got a huge glass of ice water. I left the kitchen and I laid down.
I won this little battle.
Progress.
This struggle is hour by hour, minute by minute. But, by being conscious all the time and by listening to my mind, I know I can do this. Somewhere inside of me, my strength is starting to simmer.
So, I had my little pity party. My sister is skinny and I am jealous. So what? She is still my sister and I love her just the same. She is kind, supportive, respectful, and intelligent. She is a person that I trust and depend on. As I get older, I realize how important this is. There are so many less people like this in my life than I once assumed.
I am battling a food addiction.
Coming to terms with it has been a reality check that I have been avoiding for way over 12 years. I always knew it, but I didn't want to fight it. I wasn't ready. I wasn't strong enough yet.
I knew inside it would be a hard fight and IT IS.
I wish there was an instant fix for this. I wish there was a way to feel like myself inside AND out. But, I have to get over myself and my fear of failure.
I will do this.
And unlike the old me, I will not let vanity lead this battle.....I want it for health, for life, for ME. I want to be able to go to a party without fearing my appearance in posted photos. I want to be able to take a trip and enjoy the sights just as much as the restaurants. I want to be the same size for more than just a few months. To enjoy by wardrobe 4 seasons in a row.
I want my mind to lead and my body to follow.
I went back and forth about even sharing it.
I feel silly.....but, I made a vow to myself when I started this blog that I wouldn't censor my feelings.
Here goes....
I am jealous.
Oy. I can't help it.
Sissy is in town this week with her babies and husband and we are all getting on like pie. What a relief. In the last year, I have matured a bit in terms of letting things go when I should, but something I can't always shake is sibling rivalry.
Don't get me wrong, Sissy is truly one of my best friends in the entire world. She gets me as only a few do. The bond we have is forever strong. I realize it more and more these past 2 years of my life, which have been my hardest yet.
1 of the reasons why my hometown doesn't feel like home anymore is because Sissy moved over 4 years ago. Ever since then, there has been an emptiness that only she can fill here. When I move down South, I will be a bit closer to her and every less mile counts. Crush and I plan to see them often and next summer we are already planning a week long trip all together in my new state. EXCITED.
But, there is a bit of competition. Dare I admit it, but it is my truth.
A little backstory coming and then back to the jealousy.
WARNING....WARNING: Bit of a weird thing I am going to share next, but it is a part of my ongoing recovery and related to this post as it has to do with appearance...deep breath...
Recently, I have learned that to my family, I am considered the beauty out of Sissy and me. WHY ARE PEOPLE EVEN DISCUSSING THIS? This is not to brag or boast, this is simply to admit the fact that I had no idea....
I am working through it in therapy...letters from my family about me that I open up in my sessions and reflect upon....they reveal what others think and it is painful. What other people think of me is one of my biggest fears. Coming to terms with my "surrounding reality" (what we call our immediate life in therapy) feels like I am being suffocated every week.
I have such a disordered sense of self.
I just do not see myself as pretty. I see myself as ugly, fat, and annoying. The past 2 years have a lot to do with this. I am still not ready yet, but eventually I will share some of my recent downfalls which involved trying to help people from my past as clients. Just wasn't a good fit and brought back feelings of high school and overall stupidity. The push and pull became so much more than a simple professional - client relationship. Gray area at it's best.
I don't know why I even walked into that lions den because I knew it wasn't going to end well. And it didn't. After I separate myself from the midwest by miles and miles, I will be ready to divulge a bit more, I promise.
I take every insult so literally that the compliments escape me completely. Yet, every mean thing ever directed at me has been eternally tattooed on my soul. It was one of the reasons why I loved to drink and get WASTED. To black out from my sounding reality. I literally cannot clearly recall several years of my early 20's...just bits and pieces in dreams. I was running away from myself.
So, back to the jealousy.
Why am I jealous? It seems too silly to even type. Just like typing about my looks, but, well, Sissy is skinny. She had a baby in February and ALL of her baby weight is gone. She is slim, after having 2 babies and I am huge compared to her. BIG. ENORMOUS. We took a photo together and after seeing it, I couldn't even keep it....I had to delete it even though she looked gorgeous.
To clarify a bit, Sissy is a smaller lady than me. About 5 inches shorter and more delicately boned. At her wedding (which she weighs the same now), I was only 20 pounds heavier than her. We looked about the same weight, my arms were actually thinner. Now, I am 45 pounds heavier (I was very slim for me at her wedding, the smallest I have ever been).... this change in myself makes me feel like I can't breathe sometimes.
This weight is heavy on my heart. I haven't had a baby. I haven't been married.
I have eaten my bad feelings and now they are under my skin. Trapping me.
Today, I am home alone working. I have TONS to do. The family is out and I started bawling because how did I lose my self control with food? Why am I back counting points for the 6th time? I vowed after Sissy's wedding that I would stay trim....WHAT HAPPENED...Awful did and lots of emotional turmoil in quick summary...but, I should be able to control my food through out my hardships.
I used to be disciplined with my diet and trying to look my best. When did I give up?
Today, I started to binge again. It was an automatic reflex to my sadness. I had some chocolate and some popcorn. I ate some rice salad and a nectarine. And then I stopped. My throat closed up and I had a mind/body connection that is a new feeling for me. I am just getting used to hearing my voice and allowing it to surpass by anxiety. When it happens, it is almost like having an orgasm. It surprises me.
Mind: "Stop. Stop. You are eating because you are sad about how you feel about yourself. Eating more will not change this. Stop. Remove yourself from the kitchen. Track your WeightWatchers points and move on. You are tired and thirsty. Take a nap."
Body: I threw out what I was binging on, washed my hands, and got a huge glass of ice water. I left the kitchen and I laid down.
I won this little battle.
Progress.
This struggle is hour by hour, minute by minute. But, by being conscious all the time and by listening to my mind, I know I can do this. Somewhere inside of me, my strength is starting to simmer.
So, I had my little pity party. My sister is skinny and I am jealous. So what? She is still my sister and I love her just the same. She is kind, supportive, respectful, and intelligent. She is a person that I trust and depend on. As I get older, I realize how important this is. There are so many less people like this in my life than I once assumed.
I am battling a food addiction.
Coming to terms with it has been a reality check that I have been avoiding for way over 12 years. I always knew it, but I didn't want to fight it. I wasn't ready. I wasn't strong enough yet.
I knew inside it would be a hard fight and IT IS.
I wish there was an instant fix for this. I wish there was a way to feel like myself inside AND out. But, I have to get over myself and my fear of failure.
I will do this.
And unlike the old me, I will not let vanity lead this battle.....I want it for health, for life, for ME. I want to be able to go to a party without fearing my appearance in posted photos. I want to be able to take a trip and enjoy the sights just as much as the restaurants. I want to be the same size for more than just a few months. To enjoy by wardrobe 4 seasons in a row.
I want my mind to lead and my body to follow.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Broken Record
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Record scratch. I know that actions speak louder than words and I have had a lot of words on this blog about weight loss and VERY LITTLE ACTION.
I am the first to admit it.....and it sucks.
You know what I have been avoiding lately.....oh yes, thatlittle big number on the scale.....my weight.
My friends, it isn't pretty.
My weight and weight loss in general comes in waves for me. The reality is that often I am simply not ready to do it. I have so many other emotional struggles I am dealing with, like sometimes, just getting out of bed, that I let myself use and abuse food for comfort and then the scale goes to places that it has never been before. Like this morning. Terrifying. Must break the cycle.
When before I mused about losing 30 pounds, I am now staring down 40-45 pounds and I am okay with this. I have been working out, going to therapy, staying active, and not stressing about clothes not fitting all that much.
I have allowed myself to eat ANYTHING and EVERYTHING I have wanted these past 2 years....it shouldn't be a surprise to me and it isn't. I have not deprived myself of anything or everything.
This past month, in the midst of a binge or a really big meal that lasts ALL day, the little voice in my head is actually telling me to stop. Progress. I may be reaching for the midnight granola bars, but I don't want them. It is just my pattern, my routine. My security blanket. But, my mind is actually wanting to stop the cycle. I feel some power over my decisions which is empowering.
Yesterday, for Father's Day, my Daddy and I went on a 40 mile bike ride. We rode on one of my favorite trails which is dirt and (thus harder to ride on than pavement) weaved in and by deeply shaded forests, open prairies, nature conservatories, little river bridges, and lily pad ponds. It is my absolute dream place to ride and my Dad is awesome company. Halfway through we stopped for lunch and I thought to myself, make a healthy choice because your body deserves it and I did and I didn't want the 20 miles on the way back to come to an end. I was enjoying the feeling of trusting my body and knowing what it could do. Even if I am 40 pounds overweight, I can still rock a 14 mile per hour pace on a heavy bike on a dirt trail and even bigger props to my almost 65 year old Daddy who is in incredible shape and often sets the pace for me!
Typically, in the midst of a grueling working....I repeat (this is embarrassing, but no secrets here), "bikini, bikini, bikini" and I imagine myself on the beach with Crush feeling so sexy and secure in my newest classic J.Crew black bikini that I cannot even wear in public now....but yesterday I chanted, "mind, body, and soul" over and over again on the steep hill climbs and it made me ride faster than ever before.
So....last night, I laid in bed with my eyes wide open and thought about my body, my weight. Not the beautiful size 10 dresses, not the bikinis with tags still on them, not the future wedding dress I may be purchasing in the next year or so.....I thought about my body. I thought about the abuse I have been doing to this vessel that I am lucky enough to live in. I thought about how kind my body has been to me this year. How I can still ride 40 miles, I can still rock a spinning class, that Bar Method is a work in progress, but I can keep up. I thought about the feeling of freedom I have cruising on my bike through shoulder high sunflowers and I realized....the time is now.
Not for vanity, not for Crush, not to show Awful that I did it and look AMAZING.....but my body, myself, I deserve better. I haven't been nice to her for a long time.....the Cheetos, pizza, and ice cream will always be there and will still be enjoyed, I am not about deprivation....but the mindless, emotional eating that gets me nowhere.....well, I am dealing with it in therapy and I see a change to my mindset......yes, yes, yes!!!!!!!
So, this morning, I am off to a WeightWatchers meeting. One where I will weigh in, attend the entire meeting, and take it seriously. Like I should. I plan to do so for the next 12 weeks until I move to the South and than continue down there and also continue with a new therapist that my current one recommended for me. A goal of mine has always been to be a WeightWatchers leader and I would love to accomplish it....especially because down South it seems like a more attainable goal. There are less meetings, which means that new leaders equal more times for people to come meet. Since I am not traveling at all this summer for pleasure, it is a good time to establish some routine.
I will let you know how it goes as it rolls and just like how one morning, I was ready to date again....this morning, I am ready to help my body be the healthiest she can be.
A new mindset may just bring new results.
Happy Monday!!!!
I am the first to admit it.....and it sucks.
You know what I have been avoiding lately.....oh yes, that
My friends, it isn't pretty.
My weight and weight loss in general comes in waves for me. The reality is that often I am simply not ready to do it. I have so many other emotional struggles I am dealing with, like sometimes, just getting out of bed, that I let myself use and abuse food for comfort and then the scale goes to places that it has never been before. Like this morning. Terrifying. Must break the cycle.
When before I mused about losing 30 pounds, I am now staring down 40-45 pounds and I am okay with this. I have been working out, going to therapy, staying active, and not stressing about clothes not fitting all that much.
I have allowed myself to eat ANYTHING and EVERYTHING I have wanted these past 2 years....it shouldn't be a surprise to me and it isn't. I have not deprived myself of anything or everything.
This past month, in the midst of a binge or a really big meal that lasts ALL day, the little voice in my head is actually telling me to stop. Progress. I may be reaching for the midnight granola bars, but I don't want them. It is just my pattern, my routine. My security blanket. But, my mind is actually wanting to stop the cycle. I feel some power over my decisions which is empowering.
Yesterday, for Father's Day, my Daddy and I went on a 40 mile bike ride. We rode on one of my favorite trails which is dirt and (thus harder to ride on than pavement) weaved in and by deeply shaded forests, open prairies, nature conservatories, little river bridges, and lily pad ponds. It is my absolute dream place to ride and my Dad is awesome company. Halfway through we stopped for lunch and I thought to myself, make a healthy choice because your body deserves it and I did and I didn't want the 20 miles on the way back to come to an end. I was enjoying the feeling of trusting my body and knowing what it could do. Even if I am 40 pounds overweight, I can still rock a 14 mile per hour pace on a heavy bike on a dirt trail and even bigger props to my almost 65 year old Daddy who is in incredible shape and often sets the pace for me!
Typically, in the midst of a grueling working....I repeat (this is embarrassing, but no secrets here), "bikini, bikini, bikini" and I imagine myself on the beach with Crush feeling so sexy and secure in my newest classic J.Crew black bikini that I cannot even wear in public now....but yesterday I chanted, "mind, body, and soul" over and over again on the steep hill climbs and it made me ride faster than ever before.
So....last night, I laid in bed with my eyes wide open and thought about my body, my weight. Not the beautiful size 10 dresses, not the bikinis with tags still on them, not the future wedding dress I may be purchasing in the next year or so.....I thought about my body. I thought about the abuse I have been doing to this vessel that I am lucky enough to live in. I thought about how kind my body has been to me this year. How I can still ride 40 miles, I can still rock a spinning class, that Bar Method is a work in progress, but I can keep up. I thought about the feeling of freedom I have cruising on my bike through shoulder high sunflowers and I realized....the time is now.
Not for vanity, not for Crush, not to show Awful that I did it and look AMAZING.....but my body, myself, I deserve better. I haven't been nice to her for a long time.....the Cheetos, pizza, and ice cream will always be there and will still be enjoyed, I am not about deprivation....but the mindless, emotional eating that gets me nowhere.....well, I am dealing with it in therapy and I see a change to my mindset......yes, yes, yes!!!!!!!
So, this morning, I am off to a WeightWatchers meeting. One where I will weigh in, attend the entire meeting, and take it seriously. Like I should. I plan to do so for the next 12 weeks until I move to the South and than continue down there and also continue with a new therapist that my current one recommended for me. A goal of mine has always been to be a WeightWatchers leader and I would love to accomplish it....especially because down South it seems like a more attainable goal. There are less meetings, which means that new leaders equal more times for people to come meet. Since I am not traveling at all this summer for pleasure, it is a good time to establish some routine.
I will let you know how it goes as it rolls and just like how one morning, I was ready to date again....this morning, I am ready to help my body be the healthiest she can be.
A new mindset may just bring new results.
Happy Monday!!!!
Monday, June 3, 2013
A New Year (Yes, You Get To Do It Twice....New Year's and Your Birthday!)
I am officially 32. Yay! I actually feel REALLY awesome about this. I am cool with getting older as every year I turn, I get a bit wiser.
31 in review.....
Well, to sum it up, it was truly the very worst and the very best year of my life. Trite, I know....I got knocked down harder and faster than I ever expected, I faced some of my biggest fears (I am no longer afraid of the dark!), failed multiple times, and met the man I am pretty sure I will marry.
31 gave me hope. The knowledge that the future holds promise, that I don't have to stay somewhere that isn't giving me what I need, that love does not know just 1 city in the United States, or maybe even in the world. 31 taught me that some people are just mean, that people either LOVE or HATE me (I already kinda knew this), and that beaches, fried chicken, the smell of honeysuckle blowing in the breeze, and moonlight kisses are all really actually underrated....yes, they are just THAT good! 31 showed me that from every failure comes first acceptance and then the big lesson, that real friends may be few and far between, but they remember to call you on your birthday (THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! I WAS WORKING AND YES THIS IS A BIG DEAL AS I AM NOT ON FACEBOOK, SO YOU ACTUALLY HAVE TO REMEMBER THE DATE!), and that karma is a bitch, a real bitch and for some reason, even if I do eat crow sometimes, someone is on my side up there and I seem to be getting the last laugh time and time again......feels good as when I think bad thoughts about people, I am always conflicted as I don't want them to wish badness on me and I then feel guilty because I shouldn't be worrying about other people, anyway......
I don't want to sound like a broken record, but thank you all again for reading and commenting. I am so grateful to have a little forum to share and express myself. I know that we can all relate to one another and it is very comforting.
I decided last Friday that I must begin therapy again, this time to really focus on my binge eating disorder and not just my anxiety and depression. I believe that for me, food is this dangerous little coping mechanism that gets in the way and then exacerbates my anxiety and depression. I am actually excited about discussing this in therapy and I am going to see a specialist who deals with compulsive/binge eating, specifically, so I hope to learn some great strategies to keep me from eating my way into hiding. I have struggled with this in some aspect since I was in elementary school (eating my feelings), but I didn't realize the hold it actually had on my life until 3 or so years ago when I was actively binge eating every single day in the midst of deciding whether or not I should leave Awful...
Since then, I have gained almost 40 pounds and I have been binging several times a week even with my best intentions. Not glamorous. I know that when I break free of my environment, I will feel immediate relief and it is possible that my eating will stabilize again, but what about every other transition I will face in my life? My default is now food. It always was before alcohol took it's place halfway through college and then when I stopped drinking so much 3 years ago (AWFUL HATED THIS..even though I stopped because my drunk temper could get out of control and I once hit that little clown while drunk and that freaked me out so badly that I knew it was time to reach an active limit with the booze which was actually super easy for me...) the food obsession picked up again. I fear I will turn to food time and time again if I do not get help.
Now is the perfect time for treatment.
It was only 1 year ago that I realized that what I share with food, this extreme imbalance of love and loathing was actually a real disorder. Something that I can get help for. Something that I do not have to be so super ashamed of. I will let you know how it goes. I plan on going once a week until I move and then I will continue therapy there as needed. I know it is what is best for me and we are all a work in progress, right?!
I would like to lose the 40 pounds I put on these last few years and then I plan to stop. I am not meant to be skinny and it is a goal that I no longer have....one of the many reasons that I am not super motivated these days like I once was. Vanity no longer fuels my restrictive periods. Thin is awesome, but, truthfully it hasn't ever super duper improved my life any way and now that I am not out on the hunt at a club at 3:00 am looking for sex......I really just want to fit back in my awesome pretty clothes that are all size 10....so when I get to size 10, I will be pumped!
I just want to be healthy.
If someone called me fat these days, the most dreaded word to me and one I ran in fear from for years and years and years....I wouldn't bat an eyelash. It is just an adjective and yes, it is true, I am a little fat right now. I am still pretty (this is a work in progress, being confidant, but I believe I am..on the inside, mostly), kind, funny, sensitive, caring, loud, tall, have long brown hair, have brown eyes.....and yes, I am fat, too. I just owned it, so no one else can because even if I don't look like I do....I weigh over 200 pounds right now and I feel tired, sluggish, and uncomfortable in my skin these days and it is because I binge eat too much. Reality sucks, sometimes.
Lots to share this week and I will do so before I leave for a little trip this weekend....duh duh dummmmmmmmm.....where my folks and Mister Crush's meet for the very first time. GET EXCITED.
Happy Monday!!!!
31 in review.....
Well, to sum it up, it was truly the very worst and the very best year of my life. Trite, I know....I got knocked down harder and faster than I ever expected, I faced some of my biggest fears (I am no longer afraid of the dark!), failed multiple times, and met the man I am pretty sure I will marry.
31 gave me hope. The knowledge that the future holds promise, that I don't have to stay somewhere that isn't giving me what I need, that love does not know just 1 city in the United States, or maybe even in the world. 31 taught me that some people are just mean, that people either LOVE or HATE me (I already kinda knew this), and that beaches, fried chicken, the smell of honeysuckle blowing in the breeze, and moonlight kisses are all really actually underrated....yes, they are just THAT good! 31 showed me that from every failure comes first acceptance and then the big lesson, that real friends may be few and far between, but they remember to call you on your birthday (THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! I WAS WORKING AND YES THIS IS A BIG DEAL AS I AM NOT ON FACEBOOK, SO YOU ACTUALLY HAVE TO REMEMBER THE DATE!), and that karma is a bitch, a real bitch and for some reason, even if I do eat crow sometimes, someone is on my side up there and I seem to be getting the last laugh time and time again......feels good as when I think bad thoughts about people, I am always conflicted as I don't want them to wish badness on me and I then feel guilty because I shouldn't be worrying about other people, anyway......
I don't want to sound like a broken record, but thank you all again for reading and commenting. I am so grateful to have a little forum to share and express myself. I know that we can all relate to one another and it is very comforting.
I decided last Friday that I must begin therapy again, this time to really focus on my binge eating disorder and not just my anxiety and depression. I believe that for me, food is this dangerous little coping mechanism that gets in the way and then exacerbates my anxiety and depression. I am actually excited about discussing this in therapy and I am going to see a specialist who deals with compulsive/binge eating, specifically, so I hope to learn some great strategies to keep me from eating my way into hiding. I have struggled with this in some aspect since I was in elementary school (eating my feelings), but I didn't realize the hold it actually had on my life until 3 or so years ago when I was actively binge eating every single day in the midst of deciding whether or not I should leave Awful...
Since then, I have gained almost 40 pounds and I have been binging several times a week even with my best intentions. Not glamorous. I know that when I break free of my environment, I will feel immediate relief and it is possible that my eating will stabilize again, but what about every other transition I will face in my life? My default is now food. It always was before alcohol took it's place halfway through college and then when I stopped drinking so much 3 years ago (AWFUL HATED THIS..even though I stopped because my drunk temper could get out of control and I once hit that little clown while drunk and that freaked me out so badly that I knew it was time to reach an active limit with the booze which was actually super easy for me...) the food obsession picked up again. I fear I will turn to food time and time again if I do not get help.
Now is the perfect time for treatment.
It was only 1 year ago that I realized that what I share with food, this extreme imbalance of love and loathing was actually a real disorder. Something that I can get help for. Something that I do not have to be so super ashamed of. I will let you know how it goes. I plan on going once a week until I move and then I will continue therapy there as needed. I know it is what is best for me and we are all a work in progress, right?!
I would like to lose the 40 pounds I put on these last few years and then I plan to stop. I am not meant to be skinny and it is a goal that I no longer have....one of the many reasons that I am not super motivated these days like I once was. Vanity no longer fuels my restrictive periods. Thin is awesome, but, truthfully it hasn't ever super duper improved my life any way and now that I am not out on the hunt at a club at 3:00 am looking for sex......I really just want to fit back in my awesome pretty clothes that are all size 10....so when I get to size 10, I will be pumped!
I just want to be healthy.
If someone called me fat these days, the most dreaded word to me and one I ran in fear from for years and years and years....I wouldn't bat an eyelash. It is just an adjective and yes, it is true, I am a little fat right now. I am still pretty (this is a work in progress, being confidant, but I believe I am..on the inside, mostly), kind, funny, sensitive, caring, loud, tall, have long brown hair, have brown eyes.....and yes, I am fat, too. I just owned it, so no one else can because even if I don't look like I do....I weigh over 200 pounds right now and I feel tired, sluggish, and uncomfortable in my skin these days and it is because I binge eat too much. Reality sucks, sometimes.
Lots to share this week and I will do so before I leave for a little trip this weekend....duh duh dummmmmmmmm.....where my folks and Mister Crush's meet for the very first time. GET EXCITED.
Happy Monday!!!!
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
The S Word
Skinny.
FUCK IT.
Crush and I are in a bit of a tiff.
Lately, he keeps talking about how skinny everyone is. It is really triggering me.
I feel that little voice inside me. Calling me. Tempting me. "Starve R&F. See how long you can restrict your calories so Crush will say you are ALSO skinny."
Every bout of dieting until this last one which I started BEFORE I even met Crush, was because of a comment about my weight by a man. Every single time. For me diets start after insults. Therefore, I have not been able to lose weight because I have never done it for me. For my health. For my needs. I did it so men would call me skinny and MOSTLY, so no one would call me falsely pregnant or fat.
But, I am fat now. Fluffy. I am for me and I am okay with it. I have a boyfriend who loves me. I have been to the gym the last 6 days in a row. I have been on WeightWatchers on plan for nearly 3 weeks. I am feeling good. I want to be thinner, but I don't want to be skinny.
Crush cannot stop:
"Your friend Lynn is skinny"
"Your sister is so skinny after 2 kids"
"Your cousin is skinny and has such toned arms"
"My mom wants you to try to set my brother up, but she says he only likes skinny girls."
Today shit hit the fan. While discussing my cousin above, he told me in passing "you are so much bigger than your cousin."
I am. She is 5'0" and I am 5'10". She is in a skinny phase of her life. She is under tremendous pressure. Crush doesn't know anything about her.
I went NUTS.
Because I have a feeling his mom is telling him that I am great and beautiful, but that I should lose weight, especially if we are to be married in the near future. I often have these delusional fantasies about my weight and what people say about it negatively....but, I can read Crush like an open book. I KNOW him. I also know how important thin is to his family and how his sister lost 40+ pounds for her wedding and in my opinion took it WAY WAY too far as she looked gorgeous before (and the excessive weight loss took away from her beauty) and I think she felt she needed to be the absolute skinniest she could EVER be, so no one could call her fat.....I know how it feels to be told that, "you have such a pretty face, BUT..." SUCKS!
I asked him directly about all the skinny stuff and why he can't stop commenting on it and he is hemming and hawing and said he loves me just the way I am which I believe.
The only thing Crush is guilty of is that he is a TOTAL momma's boy and his momma is an excellent person, but I think she was brought up in fear of being fat, so it is ingrained in her. Anything over skinny, so even normal weight, is fat to her. I have noticed that she talks about food, her weight, and other people's weight a lot. Crush has no idea about healthy food and unhealthy food. He is lucky he has such a great metabolism. He is clueless when it comes to diet and nutrition.
My fear isn't as much about me. I just don't want that skinny talk in my home, especially if we have daughters.
My Sissy fights it on the daily as her mother-in-law has food issues and is very particular with what my sister puts in her kids mouths...they once got in a fight because she didn't want Big Baby to have strawberries because they have sugar.....OY!
Nothing in life in perfect. Even the best ones have something. I think this will be our little struggle and I am staying firm and fat (ish)...literally.
FUCK IT.
Crush and I are in a bit of a tiff.
Lately, he keeps talking about how skinny everyone is. It is really triggering me.
I feel that little voice inside me. Calling me. Tempting me. "Starve R&F. See how long you can restrict your calories so Crush will say you are ALSO skinny."
Every bout of dieting until this last one which I started BEFORE I even met Crush, was because of a comment about my weight by a man. Every single time. For me diets start after insults. Therefore, I have not been able to lose weight because I have never done it for me. For my health. For my needs. I did it so men would call me skinny and MOSTLY, so no one would call me falsely pregnant or fat.
But, I am fat now. Fluffy. I am for me and I am okay with it. I have a boyfriend who loves me. I have been to the gym the last 6 days in a row. I have been on WeightWatchers on plan for nearly 3 weeks. I am feeling good. I want to be thinner, but I don't want to be skinny.
Crush cannot stop:
"Your friend Lynn is skinny"
"Your sister is so skinny after 2 kids"
"Your cousin is skinny and has such toned arms"
"My mom wants you to try to set my brother up, but she says he only likes skinny girls."
Today shit hit the fan. While discussing my cousin above, he told me in passing "you are so much bigger than your cousin."
I am. She is 5'0" and I am 5'10". She is in a skinny phase of her life. She is under tremendous pressure. Crush doesn't know anything about her.
I went NUTS.
Because I have a feeling his mom is telling him that I am great and beautiful, but that I should lose weight, especially if we are to be married in the near future. I often have these delusional fantasies about my weight and what people say about it negatively....but, I can read Crush like an open book. I KNOW him. I also know how important thin is to his family and how his sister lost 40+ pounds for her wedding and in my opinion took it WAY WAY too far as she looked gorgeous before (and the excessive weight loss took away from her beauty) and I think she felt she needed to be the absolute skinniest she could EVER be, so no one could call her fat.....I know how it feels to be told that, "you have such a pretty face, BUT..." SUCKS!
I asked him directly about all the skinny stuff and why he can't stop commenting on it and he is hemming and hawing and said he loves me just the way I am which I believe.
The only thing Crush is guilty of is that he is a TOTAL momma's boy and his momma is an excellent person, but I think she was brought up in fear of being fat, so it is ingrained in her. Anything over skinny, so even normal weight, is fat to her. I have noticed that she talks about food, her weight, and other people's weight a lot. Crush has no idea about healthy food and unhealthy food. He is lucky he has such a great metabolism. He is clueless when it comes to diet and nutrition.
My fear isn't as much about me. I just don't want that skinny talk in my home, especially if we have daughters.
My Sissy fights it on the daily as her mother-in-law has food issues and is very particular with what my sister puts in her kids mouths...they once got in a fight because she didn't want Big Baby to have strawberries because they have sugar.....OY!
Nothing in life in perfect. Even the best ones have something. I think this will be our little struggle and I am staying firm and fat (ish)...literally.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
I Just Have to Snark for 1 Minute Here
I couldn't sleep last night.
I went out to supper for one of my best friend's birthdays and ate a yummy meal with a few lovely couples. They spoke ALL about their beautiful little ones and I got a bit of baby fever.....
When I returned, I spoke to Crush until the very wee hours of the morning and then I couldn't sleep.
So I started cyberstalking which is tough when you aren't on Facebook, but where there is a will, there is a way.
Well, my number one stalking target was indeed Awful. Which is indeed awful.
Please try not to judge me for what I am going to say.......I just HAVE to share.
Awful looks awful and I am feeling smug.
You see, when we dated, I started off thin and ending up fat. Awful LOVED to eat and drink (as do I) and has really bad habits and many of them rubbed off on me. I got lazy and complacent. He also over packed our social schedule, so that I rarely had time for me. He would say, "the gym is for soulless yuppies who are blood sucking perfectionists, " and then slam a homemade beer and a slice of pizza. I was depressed and looking for a reason not to move, it was a match made in lazy.
We became the fat couple. I HATED being the fat couple. Especially because ALL of my friends are gorgeous with great figures. Champagne problems people. I begged Awful to come to the gym with me, to walk with me, to ride bikes with me, to support me. He never wanted to. He only wanted to drink, eat, and make social plans and compete with me about who had more friends. Awful was a frenemy I just realized. I know 7th grade girls nicer and less manipulative than him. Oy.
In an effort to help Awful not explode (he carried ALL of his weight in his belly and looked 10 months pregnant), I paid for his gym membership and bought him 6 personal trainer sessions. He NEVER went or used them....that is, until I dumped him.
Awful is ALL or NOTHING just like me. This is major reason we couldn't work, not even as friends, we are too much the same.
So, as soon as I left him, he went totally ALL into a fitness and egg white and tuna routine. He lost like 50 pounds in 6 weeks. Truth, I am being mean, but he is one of the rare people who looks better chubby (Jennifer Hudson is part of this short list) than thin. But, at the same time, his new thinness made me jealous, insanely jealous. He won. I was still fat. He was thin and ALSO had slept with someone like a week after I left officially. So, I felt stung by the skinny and the sex.
Well, let me tell you something....while I was stalking, I stumbled (SOUGHT OUT) upon photos of Awful from now, 1 full year after I last saw him in the flesh and he isn't looking so hot. In these photos, he is holding a beer (OF COURSE), dancing like a moron (I can kinda respect that because I love dancing like a moron), and drum roll please.....he is chubby again. Perhaps not as fat as he was when we broke up (nor am I), but not a lollipop head either.
And with the realization that he didn't look skinny, I smiled to myself and was able to fall into a very deep sleep.
And I dreamt of Crush and our future baby who happened to be really cute, chubby, and male.
I went out to supper for one of my best friend's birthdays and ate a yummy meal with a few lovely couples. They spoke ALL about their beautiful little ones and I got a bit of baby fever.....
When I returned, I spoke to Crush until the very wee hours of the morning and then I couldn't sleep.
So I started cyberstalking which is tough when you aren't on Facebook, but where there is a will, there is a way.
Well, my number one stalking target was indeed Awful. Which is indeed awful.
Please try not to judge me for what I am going to say.......I just HAVE to share.
Awful looks awful and I am feeling smug.
You see, when we dated, I started off thin and ending up fat. Awful LOVED to eat and drink (as do I) and has really bad habits and many of them rubbed off on me. I got lazy and complacent. He also over packed our social schedule, so that I rarely had time for me. He would say, "the gym is for soulless yuppies who are blood sucking perfectionists, " and then slam a homemade beer and a slice of pizza. I was depressed and looking for a reason not to move, it was a match made in lazy.
We became the fat couple. I HATED being the fat couple. Especially because ALL of my friends are gorgeous with great figures. Champagne problems people. I begged Awful to come to the gym with me, to walk with me, to ride bikes with me, to support me. He never wanted to. He only wanted to drink, eat, and make social plans and compete with me about who had more friends. Awful was a frenemy I just realized. I know 7th grade girls nicer and less manipulative than him. Oy.
In an effort to help Awful not explode (he carried ALL of his weight in his belly and looked 10 months pregnant), I paid for his gym membership and bought him 6 personal trainer sessions. He NEVER went or used them....that is, until I dumped him.
Awful is ALL or NOTHING just like me. This is major reason we couldn't work, not even as friends, we are too much the same.
So, as soon as I left him, he went totally ALL into a fitness and egg white and tuna routine. He lost like 50 pounds in 6 weeks. Truth, I am being mean, but he is one of the rare people who looks better chubby (Jennifer Hudson is part of this short list) than thin. But, at the same time, his new thinness made me jealous, insanely jealous. He won. I was still fat. He was thin and ALSO had slept with someone like a week after I left officially. So, I felt stung by the skinny and the sex.
Well, let me tell you something....while I was stalking, I stumbled (SOUGHT OUT) upon photos of Awful from now, 1 full year after I last saw him in the flesh and he isn't looking so hot. In these photos, he is holding a beer (OF COURSE), dancing like a moron (I can kinda respect that because I love dancing like a moron), and drum roll please.....he is chubby again. Perhaps not as fat as he was when we broke up (nor am I), but not a lollipop head either.
And with the realization that he didn't look skinny, I smiled to myself and was able to fall into a very deep sleep.
And I dreamt of Crush and our future baby who happened to be really cute, chubby, and male.
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