January Musings

I have been racking my brain these past two weeks, trying to come up with a post that effectively summarizes last year, while also looking forward to what the new year will bring. I wanted it to be effortlessly wise, reflective without being contrite, and incredibly witty.

Then I watched this interview between Louis CK and Jay Leno, and realized I was being ridiculous.

I don't much care for New Year's resolutions, or the concept that life somehow resets simply because the date has changed. And Louis is right; a much more realistic expectation is that any given year will bring a mixed bag of good and bad, high and low. I can't think of any time when only good or bad things have happened to me, particularly for an entire calendar year.

What I do know is that with every passing year, I enter the first day of January with a little more life under my belt. A little more self assuredness, a little less second guessing who I am. Is everything perfectly in place and exactly where I would like it to be? Absolutely not. Do I have some laundry list of resolutions will most decidedly make me a smarter, faster, skinnier, and funnier human being? Nope.

What I do take into the New Year is my resolve. The past year has been nothing if not one of great challenges and chances to grow. I feel like I made my own path, even in cases where I couldn't control outside factors. While the next year naturally brings some uncertainty, I feel like I can handle it. That I'm made of tough stuff, and that regardless of where I end up professionally, romantically, geographically, or otherwise, I will be okay. That I am more than the sum of my achievements and failures.

I heard this song a couple weeks ago for the first time in many years. It's been soundtracking my days ever since, and I don't think it's entirely coincidental.

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.