Distractions

If I’m being truthful, I’ve spent the last month distracting myself from my real life. It hasn’t been a bad way to spend 30 days, but I have certainly not put in the work of healing and growing.

I’m trying to not be so hard on myself. Not to beat myself up because I haven’t held up to some standard that only I know about. Trying to just be in the moment and appreciate breath and life and light.

I went to South America for Thanksgiving. For the first time as an adult, I took a 10-day vacation and unplugged. I didn’t check-in with work, didn’t take my laptop with me, didn’t really even use my personal cell phone. I disconnected. I focused on important things like getting a tan, reading a book, and sleeping past eight. I challenged myself. I jumped 30 feet into a beautiful, cool, dark, and deep cenote. I snorkeled with beautiful creatures and didn’t worry when they brushed against my arm. I had amazing fruit and grilled meats from food stands on the streets of Sao Paulo. I wore a slinky dress, something that I wouldn’t have been able to fit into in a previous life. I strutted flirtatiously in said slinky dress. I danced with strangers and let boys who didn’t speak English kiss me. I connected with my girlfriends in such an amazing and beautiful way. I lived. I loved.

There was so much build-up for South America, it made the reality of home sort of hit me in the face. I allowed myself to take a break from the grief work I’ve been doing. No relationship inventory, no constantly assessing how I’m feeling and why. Just being. I’ve also taken a little break from being on plan. My focus right now is taking care of myself. I’m exercising every day, but I’m also enjoying the holidays. It’s also been a nice test to see how I handle things in moderation. I’ve actually enjoyed having just one cookie, or just one glass of punch and then enjoying the conversation, dancing, or other fun a festive night can bring.

Something really special happens when you open yourself up to others. As I have had to face things by myself that I used to do as part of a couple, I have tried to keep one focus: love. When I walk into a new situation, I try to be loving and kind to everyone I meet. I can be pretty judgmental and stand-offish in new situations, and I have tried to let that insecurity stay on the back burner. When I am confronted with a sea of new faces, I smile, ask questions, and genuinely focus on getting to know someone without prejudice. And this strange thing has happened. I have made some great new friends. I have even been out on a few dates. While I can certainly attribute some of this to feeling confident in my new body, I know most of it is mental. When I see people as good and kind, they actually turn out to be that way. Expecting every new person to fail me before they have a chance hasn’t worked for me in the past. I figure it’s time to try something new.

I know that all the travel and parties and cocktails have helped in my healing process, but I also know that there is more intense work to be done. For now, I’m letting myself feel the freedom of being single and feeling beautiful. The work will be there when I’m ready for it.

Failing and Finishing

I have been feeling like a failure lately. 

Tonight, I was confiding in my aesthetician while I was having my eyebrows waxed. I told her the story of my breakup, and mentioned that the relationship failed. She gently put her hands on my shoulders and said, "sweetie, it didn't fail. It just finished." She was so sincere and tender with her words. I let the finality of the word - finished - sit in the air a few minutes. Then, I told her she was right.

I have been carrying a lot of guilt and blame around for the way things went down. I don't feel responsible for his actions, but I feel like I should have stopped it. I feel like I let him get away with treating me poorly for a long time. I feel like I allowed him to hurt me. Like I invited it in because I was too scared that if I really said what I wanted, he would leave.

He still ended up leaving. And I know there was nothing I could do. I also am starting to understand that this was not my fault. That it really isn't about placing blame, or assigning failure. I chose to do one thing with my half of our relationship, he chose to do another. 

I am disappointed. And sad. And hurting in a deep place. Alongside those feelings however, is one of curiosity. What path has been opened now that I am not focused on being his girlfriend? Which opportunities will present themselves now that I'm not planning to move to Seattle? Where will life take me now, with new perspective and a better idea of what I need in a partner?

I didn't fail. I tried something, and then I stopped trying that something. This is just one story that has concluded, but there are so many other stories eagerly waiting to be penned.

Failing and finishing aren't the same thing. 

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. - Anais Nin

New York in Pictures

It’s amazing what a weekend away can do for a girl. I spent a good part of last week in New York City, and had a really memorable time.

What I love about New York is the energy I get from the city. Everyone, everywhere, is moving. Constantly. I can imagine that living there would make me feel exhausted, but for the five days I was there, I loved it.

 Since I have officially become a runner (by the loosest definition of the word), I decided it was only fitting to take a jog through Central Park. It was a beautiful autumn day, perfect for snapping some pics. Even though it is early November, the leaves were still beautiful shades of red, orange, and gold. 

My first night there, I took a stroll down 5th Ave, only to realize the Empire State Building was ahead of me. I have been to the top a couple times, but really appreciated how beautiful it was from outside with the mist from the night surrounding the spire. 

Our last night in town, my friend and I decided to make a late night run for Shake Shack. Aside from gorging on a delicious greasy burgers and milkshakes, we stopped along our way and took in some of the sights in Midtown. The Rockefeller Center Skating Rink was iced, and full of skaters. 

We spent one day visiting Washington Square Park, The High Line Chelsea, and the Chelsea Market. This was one of my favorite days. The Chelsea Market was a series of sights and scents, including Spice and Tease, my new favorite tea shop. 

The High Line is a converted train line turned park, that runs through a few neighborhoods in New York and Brooklyn. We walked from the entrance on 23rd Ave, all the way through the south end of Chelsea. I can only imagine how gorgeous the view is in the summer, but we had some pretty colors for late fall as well. 

As with any trip to New York, I got to partake of some excellent dining experiences. I was lucky enough to get recommendations from friends while I was there, and had a wonderful time.

A.O.C (Bleecker St): http://aocnyc.com

Perhaps it was the wine-induced head rush I experienced after strolling the lovely streets of the West Village, but I really enjoyed A.O.C. I was there on a quasi-date with an old friend from college, and this was  the perfect spot for a cozy dinner. Try the duck, or the oysters. My friend and I even stopped back in during one of our midday strolls and enjoyed the cheese board and a few glasses of wine.

The Smile (NoHo): http://thesmilenyc.com

My friend and I met up with one of our New Yorker friends at this sweet little spot, tucked away in a basement on Bond St. The drinks were delicious and well-made. The service was a little aloof, but the food was great. Try the squash and ricotta or the pork chop.

Ilili (Midtown): http://www.ililinyc.com/Menus.html

Ilili embodied what I think of when I think of New York restaurants. Trendy, dark, sophisticated, a little pricey. The food was great, and this is a hot spot. Try the lamb shoulder or the diver scallops.

Jane (SoHo/Washington Square Park): http://janerestaurant.com

I had quite possibly, the greatest brunch experience of my life here. This place is packed. We had reservations, and still waited over 30 minutes for our table. The food was especially tasty, try the french toast or the eggs Benedict. And a mimosa. Or six.

I felt energized after I got back from my trip. The thing about New York is that while I always love the time I spend there, I'm always just tired enough to be happy for home. 

Happy Travels

The Winston Churchill Effect

Full disclosure: this has been a tough week.

Last weekend was his birthday. I had made sure to have plans, to surround myself with friends and errands and hopefully let the day pass without incident. And I felt okay, and not entirely crushed. I didn't spend the entire day wondering what he was doing, and who he was doing it with. At the end of the evening, I left the party I attended feeling strong and settled.

Then Sunday came. And for all the planning and preparation I had done, I was not expecting Sunday.

What I keep being reminded of, is that grief doesn't really follow a certain formula. Just when I think I'm turning a corner, I get knocked down by an emotion I didn't expect. On Sunday, this emotion was sadness. Overwhelming, chest-tightening sadness. I laid in bed for most of the day, watching bad television and eating anything that sounded good.

It's been awhile since I used food to cope. One of the good parts about the healing process is that my appetite has finally returned. The bad part is that for so long I used food to help soothe myself, that I sometimes just don't know what else to do.

I indulged this week, way more than I should have. And I beat myself up for it. But I also wrote about it, ran a 5k, and talked to my friends about it. I'm accepting that as progress.

It's hard to pinpoint how I'm feeling during the tough days. It's hard to tell people what I need from them. I talked to an old friend of my from college earlier in the week, and I had told her about the breakup. She immediately started emailing me helpful quotes and graphics that I think were meant to make me feel better. One quote was from Winston Churchill and read, "If you are going through hell, keep going."

Here's the thing. I'm not really going through hell. I am sad, lonely, and feeling a little lost. But I'm also enjoying my friends. I'm planning a trip to South America later this month. I'm working out, and surpassing fitness goals that I set for myself. I'm Skyping with my nephews. I'm discovering new hobbies, interests, and TV shows to watch en masse. I'm really trying to enjoy spending time with myself, despite the fact that it feels like a piece of me is missing.

All this is to say that I know I'm going to be okay. My closest friends know this, and they know what I need without asking. They know that sometimes I just need to be sad and quiet and be taken care of. And sometimes I need to talk about it and wonder and obsess over every detail. And other times I just need to laugh and not worry about what my future looks like.

I feel a certain sense of accomplishment that I have weathered another tiny storm that is part of the process of healing. I know this isn't the last one, and that the next one might be worse. Where I find comfort is in knowing that I can get through it. It may not be hell, but I'm pushing through, regardless.

Though I never been through hell like that
I've closed enough windows to know you can never look back

If you're lost and alone or sinking like a stone
Carry on
May your past be the sound of your feet on solid ground
Carry on
Carry on, carry on

But I'd like to think I can cheat it all
To make up for the times I've been cheated on
And it's nice to know when I was left for dead
I was found and now I don't roam these streets
I am not the ghost you are to me

That Friday Feeling

It's been a sort of strange week for me emotionally. I have really dug into my grief work, which means a lot of reflecting on him and our relationship. Reflection is tough stuff, and not just because it serves as a reminder of all the not so good things that happened in our relationship. It's also a reminder of all the awesome stuff we did together. Being alone is scary, but right alongside the fear I feel, I feel equal amounts of hope. There is something about the prospect of creating new memories, visiting new places, and experiencing something with someone new that is so...refreshing.

As I go into this weekend, feeling so hopeful, I can't help but have this song on replay in my mind. Now more than ever, I feel so incredibly brave.



And since your history of silence
Won't do you any good
Did you think it would?
Let your words be anything but empty
Why don't you tell them the truth?

Medifast Mondays (on Thursday): On Rapid Weight Loss

I am a little late with this, so I hope you will forgive me for doing a Medifast Mondays installment on a Thursday..

Rapid weight loss is a strange, socially awkward change. I have lost over 120 pounds in the last nine months, and plan to lose another 20 or so before I transition off the Medifast program. My appearance has changed pretty significantly over the past year, which means that I get a lot of unsolicited comments from family, friends, and coworkers. Hearing people comment on my appearance is a weird thing. Don’t get me wrong; it is always nice to hear encouraging words, or have someone tell me how great I look. It is the in between comments that are sometimes hard to take.

For the most part, I have received a lot of support, especially from my close friends and family. The people in my life closest to me understand the struggles I have had with my weight, and understand what a big deal this has been for me. I recognize though, that a lot of people I come in contact with have no idea what to say. I also have to recognize that because I have lost a lot of weight, it is a bit startling to someone who has not seen me in a long time. That said, I struggle sometimes with feedback that I get.

Commentary from outsiders falls into a couple categories. There are the people who gush, and can’t say enough complimentary and flattering things to me. I love hearing these things, but I do feel a bit self-conscious being the center of attention and having my appearance be the focus of every conversation. This is especially tough at work. There are some days when I just wish my weight was not a major topic for discussion. I also get a lot of cautionary comments. “You look great, but don’t get too skinny!” and “be careful, you’re wasting away.” These comments usually come from men, who I think in their efforts to be sensitive to the way women view weight loss, end up saying all kinds of weird things. I also get the skeptics. The ones who initially give a compliment, but then follow-up and ask what I am doing. When I tell them the truth, that I am following a very regimented diet and exercising six days a week, they usually sort of raise their eyebrows and offer a reluctant “good job.” I do get a fair amount of judgment from those who don’t approve of how quickly I have lost the weight, and are quick to tell me that slow and steady is better.

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful; this is definitely me being in my own head and not knowing how to field positive attention. My weight has always been a thing for me, always top of mind. And even though the parameters have shifted, my weight remains this thing. I was thinking of this in the context of the work I am doing around my breakup and setting boundaries. I am really bad at setting boundaries. I am even worse at holding people accountable to the boundaries I have set. In thinking about boundaries as it relates to weight loss, I have decided to set some parameters about how I react to comments, and what I am willing to share with people who are outside of my inner circle.

1.        I don’t owe anyone an explanation of what I have done to lose weight. I do not have to feel obligated to share the steps I have taken to get a healthy lifestyle. It is my choice how much or how little I disclose to those who ask, and I do not have to feel bad if the answer is not satisfactory.
2.       “Thank you” is a perfectly appropriate response to a compliment. I don’t have to make light of the weight loss, but I also don’t have to indulge others in their fascination.
3.       I am still a human being, attached to the body that everyone is commenting on. It is perfectly okay for me to feel self-conscious, and to excuse myself from a conversation if I feel uncomfortable.

Setting these boundaries has helped me immensely. I feel less guilty about acknowledging what I have done to lose weight. I feel less obligated to provide an overview of how I feel, and how much I have lost to every person who asks. I feel a little less self-conscious, and a little more comfortable in my skin. I know that it time, this will stop being an issue. As I reach my goal weight, and keep the weight off, it will stop being such a thing. It is really refreshing to think that I will meet people in the future who only know me the way I am now. I am so excited for that day.

Brunch, Autumn Days, and Booty Dancing: A Guide to Breaking Up

I have Sunday evening blues after coming off a great weekend. Nothing extraordinary, but there is something about crisp fall days that make the world seem a little brighter and little more clear.

I conquered a big hurdle today: going to the movies alone. Movies had kind of been "our thing," while we were dating. Before he left for Seattle, we used to go every Saturday to a matinee. We'd usually see the latest and greatest release and I would sit in the dark next to him, just happy to be sharing something. After he left, we still saw movies at the same time, and I always looked forward to reviewing the movie with him when we talked. Movies have always been an escape for me, so it bugged me that I was having trouble enjoying one since our breakup.

I've only seen a couple movies since our breakup, and they've all been with groups of people. I made plans several weekends in a row to go see a matinee, but just couldn't bring myself to do it. I had brunch with a friend today, and left feeling so good that I decided to go to the next showing of Gravity. I felt such relief in burrowing down in seat, just enjoying the anonymity of being alone in the dark. Despite being a seemingly small hurdle, it felt really big do this. On my own. Just me.

A friend sent me this article earlier in the week. I know Thought Catalog isn't considered to be the philosopher's favorite, but I thought it was insightful while still being cheeky. I also considered what advice I would give someone going through what I am experiencing. I am over a month out of this relationship, and feel like I am right where I am supposed to be. So here it is, my very own thought catalog of getting over it suggestions.

1. Don't try to rush the healing process. Breaking-up with some one is experiencing a loss, even though that person is still alive. It's normal to feel sad, angry, helpless, and lonely. It's normal to want him or her to call. It's normal to feel relief, or blame, or regret. Allow yourself to feel these feelings without judgement.

2. No contact. A couple weeks after the five minute breakup conversation we had, I communicated with my ex out of what I felt was necessity. I needed to close the chapter, even if he wasn't willing to give me the answers I needed. After that, I cut off all contact. I turned off my social media pages, blocked him from Twitter, email, and chat. I deleted his contact information from my phone so I wouldn't be tempted to text him. It sucks, but it sucks a lot less than knowing what he's up to, seeing him with the woman he kissed, watching him live his life without me. Once I feel a bit stronger, I think I'll be able to access social media without feeling the need to look him up.

3. Journal. I know writing about feelings sounds totally cliche. Maybe it is. But I do think there is something to be said about sharing feelings with a totally unbiased thing. While I do blog here, I keep a journal that is much more intimate and is where I work out my feelings of grief.

4. Talk about it. I am guilty of holding feelings in, repressing bad thoughts. I know not everyone has a great support system, but do what you can to find an outlet for your pain. I see a therapist, and I have also found great support from friends and family. There are even a lot of great online resources if you don't have a great support system. What I have found is that I don't have to carry this alone, and supportive friends and family usually have great advice and insight.

5. Get away. When my ex ended things with me, it was just a few days before I was supposed to visit him on the west coast. I knew that staying at home during that time would likely bring me down, so I visited some friends on the east coast instead. I know it's not always possible to plan a vacation, but even a night away can help clear the mind.

6. Dance, sing, and act silly. Seriously. It's going to feel weird to do these things when you don't feel like being happy. I remember that first week, I couldn't listen to any music or watch anything on TV. The sound grated my nerves, I didn't want to be cheered up. I had taken a trip with some friends the following weekend, and we were driving along the beach when a really stupid pop song came on the radio. I turned up the radio, opened the sun roof, and we all sang our lungs out. It felt forced, sure, but I couldn't help but feel sunnier afterwards.

7. Exercise. If you already have an exercise program in place, great. If not, try getting in some movement every day. I cannot express how much this has helped me. Exercise is an outlet for the pent up anxiety I have coursing through my veins. It allows me to channel my anger and sadness in a physical way. It also helps me sleep, which is something that I still haven't been able to regulate since we broke up.

8. Cultivate a new hobby. I found that it was important to me to have something of my own, something that was part of my new life without him. I signed-up for an online Spanish class, and now I spend my Tuesday nights learning and speaking Spanish. Not only am I enjoying a new hobby, I'm also learning something that can help me in the long run.

Look, I'm no expert at this. Days like today, I feel great. I feel certain that I will be okay, that I will move on, and that I am building the skills I need to find a mate that treats me the way I deserve to be treated. Other days, I just want to stay in bed and lose myself in my grief. I do know that the scale is tipping, and that good days are becoming more the norm for me. Let's hope the trend continues.

I don't understand
Why do I stress the man
When there's so many bigger things at hand
We could've never had it all
We had to hit a wall
So this inevitable withdrawal
Even if I start wanting you
A perspective pushes true
I'll be some other man's woman soon

Red

For the past few weeks, my feelings have mostly been some variance of sadness. I’ve mourned the loss of him, worried about him, cried over the things we’ll never do again together, etc. etc. Just generally felt morose and down.

Those feelings started to change this week, as anger surfaced and slapped me in the face. Hard. Hot, seeping, seething anger. No sadness, no questioning, no longing. Just pure anger and all its friends: spite, irritation, fury, and outrage. I can feel it coursing through my veins – I feel physically charged by it. Unable to sit still, unable to find an outlet.

My anger falls in layers on my shoulders and circles around in my mind. He was not the person I thought he was. He lied to me, convinced me that he was someone else. He made me question my judgment, my ability to see things for what they were. He used me, manipulated me. He broke my heart like it was nothing. He took six years of my life, sucked the good things out of me and left me with this pile of uncertainty. He took the city that I was so excited to explore with him and made sure I would never want to be there again. He took something that I held so sacred and made it into a joke.

He was lazy. He didn’t put in any effort, any work to make sure I felt like a priority. He cheated, he lied, he was disloyal. He made me look like a fool in front of people I had to look in the eye. He didn’t care. He was selfish, always on his own side, always there for himself. I was secondary, an afterthought to the very end. He was exactly the type of guy he liked to bash. The bad boy, the careless heart breaker.

As much anger as I have piled up around me and directed towards him, I have an abundance that flies right back in my face. I let him do this. He showed me very early on how capable he was of hurting me, how dirty he could get. I believed that he wanted to change, despite all evidence of the contrary. I let his secret-keeping and manipulations get swept under the rug. I believed his tears, and his words. I ignored his actions when they didn’t align with what he was telling me. I believed him because I was scared that if I didn’t, he would leave.

I never told him what I needed, what I wanted until the very end. And he left. Because in the end he didn’t want to be the one for me. He made a choice, despite whatever he has told himself. He made a choice, and the choice was to chase something new and shiny that made him feel good. He took out his insecurities, his need for constant validation on me. When he had something better, he moved on. And I should have known better. I used to be his something better. Until I wasn’t.

Dealing with sadness is one thing; dealing with anger is another thing all together. What I’m not doing is trying to stuff the anger down inside me and pretending that it’s not there. I’m not masking the anger with hours of TV and plates of Chinese food. I’m letting myself feel it, even though it makes me want to jump out of my skin. I use it. I let it fuel my punches against the boxing bag. I run into it, let it carry me down the sidewalk. I write about it. I talk about it. I acknowledge it, and do my best not to feed it.

I know this is necessary. I know it’s part of the grieving process. I know I have to feel it if I ever expect to heal. I know I won’t always feel this way towards him, at least I hope I won’t. I know in the end this will just be one of those things that happened in my life.

Trying to apologize, you’re so ugly when you cry

Please, just cut it out

And don’t tell me you’re sorry cuz you’re not

Baby, when I know you’re only sorry you got caught

You put on quite a show, really had me going

Not it’s time to go, curtains finally closing

That was quite a show, very entertaining

But it’s over now

Go on a take a bow

But it’s over now…

Medifast Monday: Blueberry Muffin Review

I thought it might be a nice departure from talking about the dregs of my breakup, and talk about something relevant to this blog. So, without further adieu, I am bringing back Medifast Mondays. This week's installment? A review of the new Blueberry Muffin meal!

As I've mentioned before, fruit is one of the foods I have missed since being on the Medifast plan. I'm not the biggest fan of blueberries, but I thought I'd give the new muffin a try. While it didn't taste like a homemade blueberry muffin, it was pretty tasty.

First off, I followed the instructions exactly as listed on the packet. It's the typical Medifast guidelines; mix with water and then cook in the microwave. The muffins come with a little cardboard tray, similar to the trays included with the brownies. The finished product came out perfectly.

The flavor is not bad. The mix includes actual blueberries, and a fairly generous amount at that. The berries are pretty juicy once the muffin is cooked. There is some of that fake-y aftertaste that is typical with the Medifast meals, but it's still not too bad. I could tell that artificial flavoring had been added, but it wasn't offensive.

I'll definitely be adding these to my regular rotation. It's a nice breakfast food that cooks pretty quickly and can be eaten on the go. I would recommend trying a packet in your next order.

Affirmation

Sitting here, weekend winding down, watching my Tigers struggle to keep their lead against the Red Sox. Feeling good. Feeling grateful.

This weekend was one filled with friends. In spite of all the emptiness and loneliness I feel, I feel equal amounts overwhelmed by the love that has come my way. I am so lucky. So loved.

It's been a month since that day. The day when he told me that he didn't want me in his life any more. The numbness of that conversation has subsided. The loneliness, and the sadness are just starting to blur, but I'm still left with an immense sense of loss. It's through this loss that I have found something even more profound; grace.

I was reminded today that even though I am going through this sad time, I have so much to be happy for, so much to look forward to. So much that I am surrounded by, and so much that I created with hard work.

I imagine where I might be if this had happened a year ago. A year ago today, I was 120 pounds heavier, and I was using food to mourn, celebrate, entertain, and cope. A year ago today, I would laid down on my couch and ordered pizza after pizza until I felt nothing. A year ago today, I would have drown.

I am so lucky that I today I have the ability, and the desire to go for a run. I'm grateful for the cool wind on my face, the steady rhythm of my shoes on the pavement, the thump of my running mix playing in my ears. I'm grateful for the outlet running provides, the clear mindedness I feel afterwards.

I imagine where I might be if this happened 10 years ago, around the time the I moved to Nashville. I was not in a great place with my family, and had no real friends to speak of. I spent most nights alone, most weekends driving around with nothing to do. 10 years ago today, I would have folded in on myself. 10 years ago today, I would have suffered in silence.

I am so lucky that I have an amazing set of friends here. That not only do my friends not mind me leaning on them, but they have encouraged it. That I've been able to bond with my mom, and that my brothers have been sweet and supportive. I am grateful for the advice, encouragement, free dinners and drinks that they have provided. I am so grateful for the care I have received.

I have a loving family. I have supportive friends. I have a job that allows me to go places I want to go and do things I want to do. I have a warm house, a car that runs, and a fully stocked kitchen. My bed is comfortable, my shower warm, my clothes new. I am so lucky.

“Acknowledging the good that you already have in your life is the foundation for all abundance.”  - Eckhart Tolle

It Doesn't Matter

My days are getting easier to manage. Laughter comes a little more quickly, sleep a little less elusive, and I’m starting to feel a little normal again. A little.

My head is still a scary place. I turn and turn and turn my thoughts like a load of laundry on the gentle cycle. Each rotation seemingly stretching into the next, with no real resolution. My thoughts mainly mulling over the “why” of all of this. I don’t consider myself to be a naïve person. I understand that when we allow people into our lives, we ultimately give them permission to do with us what they wish. We hope that they treat this privilege with tender thoughtfulness, but we assume the risk that we might be treated poorly and with carelessness. I know this. And I knew who he was before we started dating. I didn’t go into this relationship with grand illusions of getting married and settling down in the country with a dog. My expectations were that he would be authentic and treat my heart with care. That he would be honest and loyal to me, regardless of how long we were together.

Honesty and loyalty are not qualities that he possesses. We wasn’t careful with me, or considerate of my emotions. He was selfish and insecure and nearly every action that he made was based on those two characteristics. And the unfortunate part is that he waited until the end of our relationship to show me who he really was. I recently read an article by a relationship expert on being with someone you don’t really know. It reminded me that as I continue to mull over why he would do this, and how I could have missed him being so terrible, inconsiderate, and narcissistic, I have realized that it doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter.

His reasons for why he acts the way he does don’t matter. The fact that he hasn’t dealt with some pretty deep-seeded demons from his past, the fact that he has no familial structure to speak of, the fact that he is incapable of looking out for anyone aside from those who benefit him in the immediate doesn’t matter. I don’t have to figure out why he treated me the way he did. I don’t have to worry that he is sweeping major issues under the rug. I don’t have to wonder if he will call again. Because now, I see him. The costume is off, his true identity revealed. This is who he is and I am lucky that I will probably never see him again.

It doesn’t matter.

Of course, this resolve comes and goes, but deep down I know it’s true. The fortunate part for me is that now I get to heal and address why I allowed myself to stay with someone who so undervalued me. I get to pick a new story, and find a path that doesn’t leave me in knots.

Some of this comes from a place of anger. After weeks of feeling sad for myself, and worried that he was doing okay, I am finally feeling anger. But I also believe that this anger has given me some clarity that my previous sadness couldn't help me see. So for now, there is only one thing I'm holding onto. 

It doesn't matter.

Cause I can't make you love me if you don't 
You can't make your heart feel something it won't 
Here in the dark, in these final hours 
I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power 
But you won't, no you won't 
'Cause I can't make you love me, if you don't 

Your Boyfriend's Birthday

I received an email reminder today, with the subject line titled, "Your Boyfriend's Birthday." It was reminding me that I had made reservations for his birthday, coming up in a few weeks. I had forgotten about the plans I had put in place, the special evening I was looking forward to sharing with him.

As I canceled our plans, it dawned on me that this would be his first birthday in seven years that we weren't celebrating. Over the last six years, I had spent every October mulling over ideas for gifts and special birthday surprises. I genuinely enjoyed cooking his birthday dinner, making travel plans, and wrapping his gift in anticipation.

We had created years and years worth of traditions around holidays, birthdays, even vacations to our favorite places. I know this year will be challenging; each milestone without him a reminder of what I thought we were going to share for a long time. What I try to remind myself of, is that this is a unique opportunity for me to create new memories that have nothing to do with him. That I can have other exciting experiences to associate with these times of the year.

I spent the majority of this weekend with friends, doing activities typically outside of my comfort zone. I'm normally nervous to meet new groups of people, but I went in with the intent to give a friendly smile and warm conversation to every person I met. And I had a great time. I made some new friends, met lots of new people, and even had a long, flirtatious conversation with an old schoolmate of my friend's husband. It confirmed for me that eventually I will be ready to get to know someone new. It also reminded me how nice it is to get a warm hug from yummy-smelling man.

This weekend also reinforced my desire to create new memories for special dates coming up over the next year. I'm really looking forward to traveling to new places, making new friends, and creating new traditions.

Today, I feel hopeful. And that is a great feeling.

I've been afraid of changing
Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I'm getting older, too.

The Feel

I have felt really uncomfortable lately. Not in a way that I can necessarily pinpoint, more in an anxious, about to jump out of my skin kind of way. I was talking to my therapist about it this afternoon, and she suggested that maybe this is the first time I have really allowed myself to feel a strong emotion.

I sat for a minute with that statement. Feeling for the first time? How could that be? I'm 32 years old, how could it be that I have never really felt emotion?

Then I realized she was right. I have spent all of my adult life self-medicating, usually with food. If this had happened 10 years ago, I would be face-down on the couch, intermittently stuffing my face with whatever sounded appealing at the time. I always had food, or the comfort of bulimia to placate me in the past. I didn't have to feel anything, because I could just use food, booze, or purging to mask anything that felt this raw or real.

For the first time in as long as I can remember, I am feeling real emotional pain. And I'm not masking it. I'm sitting with it, paying attention to it, addressing it. It's not fun or easy. It hurts to the point where I feel it physically. But it's there, and it's evidence that I have finally addressed something inside myself. I think there was a part of me that was afraid before, afraid that what I felt was too dark and scary and that I would never recover from it. As scary and uncharted a place as I am in now, I know I'm going to be okay. It might take me a long time to get to okay, but I know it's there.

I'm trying to grasp on to moments like this, because my bad days are still outnumbering my good days. It feels precious to have these moments of clarity. I know one day the clear days will outnumber the fuzzy ones, but for now I'm here, in the feel.

I never meant to start a war
I just wanted you to let me in
I guess I should've let you win

Don't you ever say I just walked away
I will always want you

I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was wreck me

Five Minutes

Five minutes. Five minutes was at it took for him to yank the ground out from under me, and just leave me lying there.

It was a five minute conversation to end a six-year long love, friendship, and partnership. We had been separated by a couple thousand miles since the beginning of the year, but I thought we were doing okay. I had made plans to join him on the west coast, and even had my ticket in hand for an upcoming visit. None of that will happen now.

This isn't a story with a lot of layers. This is a story where he has always been the main character; me, the ever-supporting actress. I followed his lead, all the way to end.

It took five minutes for him to explain that he didn't want to be with me. That he'd made a drunken mistake out of what was seemingly the hopes of sabotaging our relationship. It took five minutes to tell me that I wasn't worth fighting for, that he had made this decision on his own, that I was disposable and inconsequential. Those five minutes showed me exactly how little he thought of me, how little he respected me, and how easily I could be dismissed.

And now I'm left with what feels like a million five minutes. Nothing but time stretched out in front of me. Time to think, wonder, and agonize over what happened. I wonder if he is feeling what I am feeling. I wonder if he wakes up feeling like the pain is going to crush him. I wonder if when he finally is able to sleep, he dreams of me in snippets that provide no clarity or relief. I wonder if he's lost his appetite. I wonder if he feels all the time on edge, with no amount of exercise or social time enough to let out everything that is coursing through him. I wonder if he replays my words in his head the way I do his. "I love you, but..." and "this is it," over and over on repeat. I wonder if he is constantly reminded of me; every movie preview, every shot of our favorite city, every inside joke, and every reference to a future that we were supposed to share.

I know that it's still so new and raw and sad. I know that it won't always be this way. What I don't know is what the new version of me looks like.

No one is telling me 
you just wont talk to me 
tell me what all this is for 
if you used to see in me 
something you could believe 
know that this is worth fighting for 

There's a boy on the coast 
yeah, I think of him now 
I wonder what did I do 
and I thought we were fine 
standing right where we should 
and, I'm sorry 
don't trust me with anything good 

Oh love, this is the part where you go 
and I fall to my knees on the floor 
and now maybe I'm wasting my time 
but, I'll be the bad guy 
- Meghan Tonjes

Medifast Mondays: Smoothie Review

Welcome to the first installment of Medifast Mondays! If this is your first time to my blog, check out the About Me and Medifast pages for more details on my journey.

I was super excited to try the Medifast smoothies. That's not true. I wasn't really excited at all. I'm not much of a smoothie kinda gal. I would prefer a glass of juice or a bowl of ice cream. Not some weird combination of both.

However, since starting the Medifast program, I have been craving fruit. This is definitely a good problem to have, and Medifast offers a few "fruity" options to get you over the hump. I thought I would try the smoothies to see if they satisfied my cravings.

There are two smoothie flavors: Pineapple Mango and Triple Berry. I was intrigued by the Pineapple Mango as I love tart foods, and thought this would be yummy.

The consensus: I thought both flavors were so-so. I probably won't order again. I did only order one packet of each, so I didn't have my room to play. I blended the Pineapple Mango smoothie with ice, and liked it better than the Triple Berry smoothie, which I only blended with water. Both flavors had a weird diet-y after taste, and neither had the fruity punch I was looking for. I did like that there were actual bits of fruit in each.

I think I'll save these for a rainy day. I have seen some reviews where the smoothies were made into popsicles, or blended with Greek yogurt. These may make a difference!

Enjoy!

Fitbit Flex 90-day Review

Happy VEDA (Vlog Every Day in August) month, friends! Feel free to check out my vlog on the Fibit, as well as the weird face I'm making here:

I have been using the Flex for about three months now, and am still incredibly satisfied with its performance. The band is comfortable, and I don't even notice it anymore. Both the iPhone and Android apps are easy to use intuitive as well. You couldn't see the screens very well in my video, so I've added some screen captures below for each system type.

iPhone App:

Android:

What I like the best is how consistent the tracking device is. It does a great job of accurately measuring the steps I take in a day. I also like that dashboard and apps display my most active periods of time. The device has helped me accomplish what I set out to do: better monitor my physical activity. Although the actual tracking is limited to walking or running, other activity types can be entered using the apps and dashboard.

Enjoy!

Portland A Go-Go

Hi friends! In an attempt to be better about both blogging and v-logging, I present you with a new blog post. Please hold your applause.

My latest YouTube diary is up, and I talk about quitting cyclical negative self-talk here:

I didn't mention this in the video, but I did decide to do the 4&2 plan while I was on vacation. On the 4&2 plan, I had four Medifast meals and two lean and green meals each day. I still spaced the meals 2-3 hours apart, and stayed within the parameters of the lean and green Medifast suggestions. I was able to enjoy local cuisine, and still lost weight on vacation. I did discuss this with my health coach beforehand, and we agreed this was the best idea. I went right back to the 5&1 plan when I returned.


We had a great time in Portland last week. If you have never, I would highly recommend it. It doesn't rain as much as the city's reputation suggests.

Where to Stay

I am partial to Kimpton hotels, so we stayed at the Hotel Monaco. It was reasonably priced, except for parking, which was almost $40 a day. If you fly directly into Portland, you won't need a car. Hotel Monaco is very well appointed; the rooms were large, clean, and carried lots of amenities. The staff was also friendly and chatty. A cocktail reception is hosted in the lobby during the evening, and Voodoo donuts are available in the morning.

Places to Nosh

Via Tribulani: Yes, folks, this is a pizza place. However, they had a ton of "on plan" options. Try the mussels, you won't regret it. My boyfriend loved his pizza and Peroni, and there was also an extensive wine list to peruse. Very romantic and moody; low lit with dramatic chandeliers and mahogany bar and booths. This is in the Burnside neighborhood, right next door to Voodoo Donuts.

Portland City Grill: This restaurant is at the top floor of the US Bancorp building. It's touristy for sure, but the food doesn't disappoint. Try the cioppino, or the cheese plate appetizer. The view is well worth the visit, but you'll need to request a window-side table. Great for a romantic dinner, or a fun night out with friends. Lots of specialty cocktails and local brews.

Red Star Tavern and Roast House: this is technically restaurant affiliated with the Hotel Monaco, but it operates independently. The bar is comfy, with cozy spaces and seating. I had one of the best turkey burgers I've ever tasted, and a really fresh side-salad. Limited menu before dinner, but lots of local brews on tap.

Places to Go

Saturday Morning Market
This is Portland's version of a flea market, with over a hundred vendor booths selling everything from incense to jewelry to cookware. Most of the items are handmade or locally made. There are also a ton of food booths with eclectic cuisines. What I liked most is that the market borders the river walk. We took a little stroll after perusing the market.

Parks
Portland has a lot of great parks, very convenient to the city. We walked through both the north and south block parks. Both were very peaceful, with lots of great people watching. The south block parks house the Sunday Farmer's Market. We didn't have a chance to stop by, but heard great things about it.

Powell's Books
If you are a book lover, plan a whole afternoon for this place (maybe a bad weather day). It is quite possible the largest bookstore I have ever encountered. Multiple levels, books on every subject, and both new and used books for sale. Many authors make a stop here on their book tours, so check the schedule ahead of time.

Portland is an interesting city. The downtown area is very laid-back, not just the typical makeup of professionals that you might see in other downtown areas during the day. There is definitely a hipster vibe on every street. The city has great public transportation, that is free for most parts of downtown. The outskirts of the city offer hiking, camping, and kayaking as well.

Thursday Musings

My day started off with some prep work for a big meeting I have next week. I'm really nervous about it because it's my first meeting with a new client. These things always work out, even if the meeting is not pleasant, but I find myself dragging my feet when I need to prepare for major events like this.

Today, I stopped myself and thought about what was causing me to distract myself from this important task. It came down to not feeling confident, not feeling like I was going to succeed in the meeting.

I forced myself to dig in, take notes, and find answers. At the end of the day, I felt much better about the visit. I'm really taking myself to task on this self doubt thing. I think I sometimes sabotage myself ahead of time simply because I'm afraid the end result won't be what I want.

My challenge throughout this process of losing weight will be the same. I have fears that I won't get to the size I want to be, or that I won't feel as good as I hope to. Those are all great reasons to tear into an enchilada, but I'm not letting them be catalysts for going off the program. With every pound I say goodbye to, I say hello to feeling better and better about myself.

My First Video!

Ut oh...someone learned how to use Youtube...

It's true, I've joined the digital age. 15 years too late, but I'm here.

So, I uploaded my first video blog to Youtube today. You can check it out here. Be gentle, I'm still new to this. I was trying not to sound as nervous as I felt.

Things are going quite well, and I am going to make a valiant effort to be better about keeping up here. The entire point of me starting this blog was to document what and how I was doing. I also really want to keep myself accountable to this program. The more I write here, the more likely I will be to stay the course.

So, more to come. For now, enjoy!

Medifast Mondays

I need you to pretend that I posted this on a Monday. I know I could technically back date this post so that it looked like I posted it on Monday. But that would be lying, and I choose to keep my lying to a less publicly recorded format.

Since the focus of this blog is to document my quest to be healthy, I thought it might be fun and helpful to highlight how the Medifast program is helping me. To be clear, I do not work for Medifast, nor am I being paid to talk about Medifast products and programs. I am truly a case study into what it is to be a part of the Medifast program. I want to be as transparent as possible when it comes to the good and bad of this being on the Medifast plan.

First off, I did a write-up of what the program entails under the "Medifast" link on the right side of the page. For a quick recap, I am on the 5&1 program with Medifast. This means I eat five Medifast meals (packaged meals made by Medifast) and one lean and green meal each day. The lean and green meal is a combination of protein and vegetables. There's a lot more to the program, so I would encourage you to check out the plethora of Medifast websites and blogs that are available. I also have a health coach that I am happy to put you in touch with if you're interested in being a Medifaster.

As I mentioned earlier, I have had my skepticism about this program, mainly due to the large amount of processed foods that are included in the plan. Over the past few years, I have made a conscious effort to  consume more locally grown and organic foods. Medifast sort of flies in the face of that. I won't say that it still doesn't bother me, but I will say that I have come to a compromise with myself. Since I do have control over the lean and green portion of my meals, I always choose organic, free-range, pesticide free, and local foods whenever possible. I also read another woman's comment on the Medifast site that said something along the lines of being overweight is so bad for her, that if she has to lose weight by eating processed foods, then so be it. This resonated with me. I would rather make a short term sacrifice of eating foods are packaged and highly processed, so that I have more freedom in my decisions once I make it to a healthier weight.

That said, the food is actually pretty tasty. I have had some red herrings (not literally) since I started seven weeks ago, but overall I enjoy the taste of the food. There are also a lot of great ideas for creative lean and green meals online as well. I'll be posting some links to my favorite sites, as well as reviews of recipes in the coming weeks. I have tried to keep my lean and green meals as simple as possible, mainly just to get used to being on the plan.

So for the first week, here are a few recommendations for how to survive. In the interest of full disclosure, I have had a really easy time following this plan. The convenience of the food means I can just throw some bars or munchies in my purse and not have to worry. I keep a stash of meals in my desk at work, and I can easily nuke the other meals at home. I even enjoy making my lean and green meal every night. I know others struggle, especially in the first week. I hit my first week o' struggle last week, so I have some ideas on things that help.

Medifast allows a certain number of "snacks" per day/week. These include things like pickle spears, sugar free popsicles, and jello. I would recommend stocking up on a few of these items. It really helped when I needed just a little extra something to get me through. I would also recommend ordering a variety of foods for your first order. Your health coach will likely place your first order for you, so don't be afraid to let him/her know what types of food you like. I have a great combination of savory and sweet foods, so I never feel like I'm missing out.

I have had a great amount of success so far, and have lost over 27 pounds since starting the last week in January. The plan works if you stick with it and stay within the guidelines of the program. Good luck, and I'll have more tips and ideas on the next Medifast Monday!

Taming the Beast

I have been struggling with what to write here since I started this blog. I really want this to be an accurate journal of the work I am doing to lose weight, but I also don't want to make this entirely about weight loss. The point of getting healthier for me is so that I can stop worrying and thinking about losing weight all the time. I do a lot more with my days than just lose weight, so I feel like it's only fair to paint a picture of those things too.

I think I mentioned before that it's hard for me to get excited for myself when good things happen to me. Last month, I was offered a promotion at work that is an accomplishment I have been working towards for almost five years. And I wasn't all that excited about it. I made pros/cons list to determine if it was really a good thing. I talked about it ad nauseam to my coworkers and boyfriend. I thought of all the ways in which I wasn't going to succeed in the position and all the reasons I should turn down the offer. And let me tell you, there was absolutely no reason for this.

I work really hard to provide for myself and accommodate my clients. I am respected by others at my company, and received a lot of congratulatory responses when my promotion was announced. The only person who I didn't receive a congratulations from was myself. As I was tossing around in my head all of the new responsibilities I am going to have, I stopped myself. Why am I freaking out about this? Why can't I enjoy this for a minute? Why do I reluctantly thank every person who congratulates me?

I am afraid to fail. I am afraid that I am going to be terrible at this job. I'm afraid I am going to fall flat on my face and everyone is going to laugh at me.

Failure. There it was, my least favorite f-word. I was allowing the fear of failure to beat my up, shame me, scare me, and doubt myself. I was being consumed by something that hadn't even happened.

I spent a lot of time this weekend contemplating why I am so afraid to fail. I have had my fair share of failure, but I have also had a more than fair amount of success. My present employment is one of those shining examples; I started in an entry-level position, and have steadily worked my way up to rather prestigious role. And it wasn't just some fluke that this happened, it happened because I worked for it. So why can't I let myself accept and enjoy it?

This same fear strikes me in other areas - my relationships, finances, and especially weight loss. I am constantly checking, confirming, an reassuring myself that everything is going well and that I'm doing okay. All of this supervision of my personal state keeps me from enjoying the ride.

I am trying really hard to focus on being successful on this weight loss program, but it's also important for me to pay attention to what I am doing while I'm succeeding. Scaring myself into success hasn't worked in the past, and it's not going to work now. What can I do to chill out a bit, to stop worrying and just live?

I identified a few things that will help me in this quest to tame my fear of failure.

1. Write about it. Just being able to write a few sentences here has made me feel a little less distracted by my doubts.
2. Focus on the task at hand. So often, I find myself worrying about what will happen next: my next meal, my next client conference, my next call with my boyfriend. Instead, I just want to focus my attention on my current meal, my current meeting, and my current call. By paying attention to what is happening now, I'm much more engaged in my life and not distracted by what might happen next.
3. Tone down the self doubt. No more lists, no more rationalizing my success, no more cyclical obsessing. I realize this is my toughest challenge, but I am going to try hard to keep myself accountable to this.

So here goes, dear readers. Things are going really well for me right now. I have lost 27 pounds since starting Medifast. I feel great and for the first time, I feel like I could actually do this. I also got a great promotion that I am super excited to start. Not only is a a great bump in salary and title, but it's something that I have worked towards for several years. And that is something to be proud of, no strings attached.

The Promise of Apprehension

Things are going well. Actually, things are going really well. Now I just need to convince myself to be excited.

I got a promotion at work this week. A big promotion, with a lot of responsibility that goes along with it. I am both excited and incredulous. Do you ever feel like you're just pretending to be an adult? I feel that way at least half of the time. Sometimes, when I look back on my life and the things I wanted when I was a kid, I have no idea how I got here. Is this office really mine? Do I really have all of these grown-up things like a bank account and a car and a person who grooms my eyebrows for me? Sometimes, I feel like I'm out of body and just looking at myself doing adult things. Watch Emily as she grocery shops and drops off the recycling. Observe Emily as she takes a vacation that she planned and booked herself. See Emily in her native habitat, doing laundry and making her lunch.

Where did this girl woman come from? 

The challenge I have is believing that the good things in my life are mine and that they are here because I earned them in some capacity. I consistently struggle to believe that I am worth what I am paid, that it is not just by chance that I have found professional success, love, and the ability to manage a good life. I can't seem to put my finger on why I am waiting for the other shoe to drop.

As I continue down this path of losing weight and establishing a healthier life for myself, it feels the same. I don't want to get excited about how much weight I have lost because I am afraid that I will it all come back on the scale and in the way my clothes fit. This fear is justified because it has happened before. It has happened every single time. What I can't help but wonder is if maybe a lot of my previous weight loss failures had to do with my own self-sobotage. Hows does the saying go? Be careful of your thoughts, they become your actions? If I continue to remind myself of my past failures, continue to beat myself up over the fact that I have a pattern for not doing something, maybe that becomes the truth eventually. Maybe at some point, the negative thoughts and self-doubt stop being words in my head and turn into actions.

I worked hard to win the promotion at work. And I am working hard to become healthy. My hard work has led to accomplishments like a higher salary and a slimmer waistline. These things weren't bestowed upon me from a fairy princess, and I don't have any lamps that a genie is going to pop-out of. I have to be my own genie, my own, fairy princess, and if you're a Seinfeld junkie, the master of my own domain.

So this is what I am working on. Believing in myself, as cheesy as it sounds. Reminding myself that I didn't just land here by chance. Remembering that I can do this.

Perspective

I should be more excited about this post. That said, I am really excited about this post. I have lost 15 pounds since starting the Medifast program a couple weeks ago. 15 pounds! I feel good, my energy seems to be up, I'm sleeping well, and not climbing the walls in search of Doritos. I couldn't be more excited. Except that I could be more excited.

I should be more excited because when I stepped on the scale yesterday, I felt a tiny surge of disappointment. Not at the amount of weight I had lost, but what the weight loss means for me in the grand scheme of my overall weight loss dreams. I have a lot of weight to lose. A lot. I can't emphasize it enough. And I know that I this is a small victory for me - to chip off a chunk (pun intended) of a very large number. For that I am grateful, proud of myself, and excited. But it also forces me to look ahead to what I have left.

Part of going on the Medifast plan was to stop all of the counting that I have done on diets in the past. I have counted calories, carbs, fat grams, protein grams, cups, ounces, and teaspoons. I liked Medifast because most of this work is done for me. There is a minimal amount of measuring I have to do, but the plan helps in that I am not obsessing over things like calories and sugar. Some doctor or scientist already figured it all out for me, and now I just have to show up. The counting that I still struggle with is that of how much weight I have lost.

Losing weight as a goal is tricky, because it always involves some form of measurement. There is the measurement of my actual weight, the measurement of my girth in inches, the measurement of how my clothes fit in size, and the measurement of all of this by the inevitable feedback that comes from casual observers. I see the importance in measurement. Motivation is hard to conjure if there is no point of reference, no objective to build upon, no reinforcement to fuel it. Unfortunately, as it relates to weight loss, some kind of measurement is required to keep motivation. I accept this, but I really really really don't like it. Really.

So today, and tomorrow, and the rest of what will probably be forever, I am fighting to find perspective. 15 pounds is awesome, even if all I ever lose for the rest of the my life is this 15 pounds. It means that it's a little easier for me to get up and down stairs. It means that my clothes fit a little better. It means that I'm not exerting as much pressure on my joints as I was two weeks ago. And this is something to be excited for.

One of the challenges I have identified for myself in this endeavor is to celebrate progress, regardless of how small it looks and feels. So I am celebrating this 15 pounds, and all of the 15 pounds to follow. And you know what? 15 pounds feels pretty damn good.

The Skinny on Waiting

I feel a lot of pressure to write an amazing (uh-mazing) first post. Clearly, I'm off to bad start since I've already inserted a parenthetical statement. Hopefully, it only gets better from here.

I'm not new to blogging, but I am new to being completely transparent in a public format, such as a blog. So here goes. My name is Emily. I'm a 30-ish gal who hails from the midwest, but has settled in the great city of Nashville, Tennessee. There is nothing that remarkable or noteworthy about me. My day-to-day is pretty vanilla: corporate gig, small group of great friends, super awesome boyfriend, and a sweet family who I don't see as much as I'd like. My life is nice, and I have very little to complain about.

Despite such a great life, I have always had a singular nag that has caused the most self-doubt, frustration, and heartache for me: my weight. It hasn't seemed to matter what my lot in life, my weight has always followed me, always been a reminder of the thing I wish I was, but can never be. It has gone from something that at one time was just a social nuisance, to something that could be a health risk. It is probably for the latter reason that I decided to make a change.

My goal with this blog is to chronicle my weight loss journey. I don't have a target number of pounds I want to lose, or a pant size that I want to get into. What I do have is a plan for feeling better about myself, a lot of research on how to get there, and the accountability of this blog to help motivate me.

So...about the title. I used to hate the word skinny. In the interest of full disclosure, I have had a sordid past with my weight, food, scales, you name it. I am recovering from a long-term relationship with an eating disorder. I have tried and failed at no fewer than 15 diet programs. I have thrown out countless scales, only to buy a new one six months later. All along the way, hearing the word skinny woven into my endeavors. How much weight have I lost, because I look so skinny. If I just stay on this treadmill for an extra 40 minutes, I will be skinny. If you don't order ranch dressing with your salad, you will get so skinny.

What has changed in me is not my desire to be skinny. What has changed in me is my definition of what skinny is. After battling with myself for almost 20 years, I know I will never be size-two skinny, Adriana Lima skinny, or spin class six days a week skinny. What skinny means for me is finding a weight, size, and state of mind that is comfortable. I am not there yet. I have tried to be one of those girls who embraces her size and deflects all the naysayers. If I did that, I would be lying to myself. I want to be thinner, yes, but I also want to feel good about climbing the stairs, chasing my nephews, and dancing to my favorite songs. To me, feeling good, being able to maintain activity, and also looking good in the mirror, all equate to my definition of skinny.

I hope you have fun with me while I await skinny. I can't promise that I will be great at staying motivated, or eating healthy all the time, or exercising every day. What I can promise is to be honest about the cool stuff I'm doing and the challenges I'm facing. I'm pretty good at spittin' some truth, so truth is what you shall receive.

Deep breath, dive in. Let's await together.