Letters to Myself, Showing Up

Letters to Myself, # 2 – Slow Down (They Don’t Love You Like I Love You)

Quotes about gratitude

(Thanks, Beyonce, for the title inspiration from your song, “Hold Up” from your best album yet, Lemonade)

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Dear Me:

Hey there, it’s me again. I want to thank you for your response in the first letter when you reminded me throughout a really stressful, busy week last week to find and hold on to my joy.

Thanks for allowing Happier Us to stick by my side through apartment A/C issues (and getting the property manager & maintenance supervisor to realize we needed a new unit), babysitting two small, very fun and active girls two days in a row, traveling to and from Savannah in about a 36-hour period (and keeping Cynical Us from screaming “We’re going to die!” as a very exhausted us and John tried to navigate the last 30 miles home in early morning Atlanta traffic), not getting really good quality sleep, and it being so damn hot outside.

In this letter, I want to talk about something else I’ve noticed directing our life and decisions: Scarcity Mindset. The feeling that there is never enough and we are never enough. The way it makes us settle for shit we don’t want, ignore our intuition, mistreat our body, envy others whom we think have what we can’t have because they have it, pushes us so hard to try to make money any way we can to pay off our debt and be financially secure (knowing that in this mindset, no amount of money will ever make us feel secure), and keeps us trapped in comparison and feeds our feelings of inadequacy.

It isn’t our fault. We were raised in a scarcity-based environment. In America, it is called capitalism. Being shamed for our so-called inadequacies, told we can have “it all” if we just work hard enough or have enough money to buy it (ignoring all of the privileges many have that a lot were not given or born with), and being told to rest is to be lazy, worthless, and dumb.

In our family, we were taught that money is scarce as we watched our family members go into massive credit card debt and then one bankruptcy after another and saw no one ever had enough to be happy. We were taught to fear money or see it as evil. We were never taught how to be responsible with it or how to give ourselves the power over it and not the other way around.

We were taught that appearances matter most. Not who we truly were or how we truly felt, but what we and our lives looked like.

Our family tried so hard to seem financially well off and like everyone had their shit together and there were never any conflicts or issues.

Don’t you remember how Daddy was so mean to Mama, the boys, and us on the way to church and how as soon as we got out of the van and walked in the church doors, he became the man all our youth group girl friends wished their father was like, who the women Mama knew in their Sunday School group wished their husbands were like? And how as soon as we were back in the van, his friendly, warm smile returned to a sneer and his honey-dipped words returned to venom?

Or how Lib, June, Brophy, and Robert congregated on the porch, laughing and talking whenever the police showed up because someone (sometimes us) called 911 because their violent fights were so loud and frightening?

From around kindergarten up, we learned that food wasn’t a security either. It isn’t that we were really ever short on food, but it was the shame around being told we couldn’t eat the food we wanted because it was “making us fat” and being a fat girl was a vicious, dreadful sin. It ruined our “appearance” of how a thinner body was seen as beautiful, smart, hardworking, and cared for, and our fat body only showed neglect, laziness, gluttony, and lacking self-care, self-respect, self-esteem, and intelligence.

The more food was held as forbidden to us and the more we were told our body was “wrong,” the more scarce food felt to us and the more we rebelled, binged on it, and hated our self.

And in puberty, not developing breasts or round hips and instead developing rounder, broader shoulders and a rounder version of the pot belly we’ve had since infancy made us even more of a disappointment and eyesore. Here, we learned that love, acceptance, desirability, and attractiveness was scarce, and we were to blame for it.

In these times of scarcity, or perceived scarcity, we are conditioned to rush. Rush to sneak the “forbidden” food and shove it down our throat thoughtlessly, without enjoyment, and riddled with shame and self-loathing. Rush to lose weight in whatever means possible so we can finally be considered attractive, lovable, and worthwhile. Rush to do whatever we can to please others, regardless of the way we neglect our self and our needs in the meantime. And then rush to numb our pain, shame, sadness, and anger by whatever means necessary, which for us was/is food and spending too much time scrolling through the internet and social media.

There is no slowing down in this scarcity mindset. No time to think. No time to consider. There is so much to do to finally get enough so we are finally considered enough, and with every step we take, the ruler measuring success, achievement, control, safety, adequacy, and being considered worthy of love and acceptance is pushed a little further out.

Driven by this mindset, we went to a college we didn’t really like, settled on toxic behavior by men we were attracted to and wanted to feel noticed and wanted by, accepted the crumbs of attention from toxic friendships out of deep loneliness, a deep mother and father wound, and always being taught to feel worthless and like we had to take whatever we could get.

We settled on one job after another because we were told it was “smart” and secure even though they stifled our creativity and left us feeling miserable and lost.

This scarcity mindset taught us love is scarce and we could lose it at anytime so we better not do anything to “rock the boat.”

Things like:

  • Don’t speak up about your hurts and anger.
  • Don’t do or say anything that could be seen as critical or he’s going to leave.
  • Always be pleasant.
  • Don’t talk too much.
  • Don’t be needy.
  • Don’t speak up for yourself.
  • Squelch those emotions, you know you have too many of them.
  • Don’t do anything that could make you seem like a burden.
  • And for God’s sake, lose the fucking gut already, no man wants to look at that.
  • Always remember that whatever has been given can and likely will be taken away.
  • Don’t get too comfortable.

You know, this mindset keeps me up at night worrying about dying and never getting to live the life I want many years to live. Makes me so afraid we will die young and miss out on all life has to offer us. Makes me feel sick to my stomach at thinking about John moving on, finding someone else, and realizing we were never the woman he thought we were or that he ever really loved.

I get angry too, thinking about everything we want to do and how we never seem to have the money to do it because we can’t find or keep a job in a healthy, fun, creative environment. It makes me think of friends and family who are traveling where I want us to travel, doing jobs I want us to do, having money I wish we had, and comparing way too much of myself and life to everyone else.

Where there is a scarcity mindset, there is a focus on what we don’t have and a furious impatience to get it. To have control. To know what’s coming next, how to get it, when it’ll arrive, and how happy we’ll “finally” be when it arrives. I mean, isn’t that all the lie of every diet and/or exercise program we ever try? Every book or movie or TV show about finding “the one”? The sales pitch behind every beauty product and fashion line?

Scarcity mindset is the mindset that sells and makes billions of dollars in marketing and advertising for every possible thing you can think of from diets to religion to fashion to cars to homes and etc. “Let me tell you what you lack, how others perceive your lacking, and how buying this product will finally make you happy.”

Where there is scarcity, there is depression, war, greed, famine, sexual/physical/emotional violence, addiction, infidelity, genocide, treating people who don’t look like us as an “other” and dehumanizing them, anxiety, power-grabbing, fear-mongering, and depravity. Scarcity makes us take whatever we can get, however we can get it, no matter who – including ourselves – gets hurt.

Most of all, it takes us out of the present and robs us of joy, peace, love, and gratitude. It clouds our intuition and depletes the quality of our life. And quality always matters more important than quantity.

Amy, we are enough. Our life is happening as it is meant to, in the timeline it is meant to be on. There is no one set timeline for everyone. There is no need to rush.

We don’t have to worry about not having enough or being enough. There’s nothing we need to do or change about us to be worthy of love. Our very name, Amy, MEANS “beloved.”

If there is anything we can hold on to in our constantly evolving spiritual faith and what we learned in church growing up, it is to not allow ourselves to get wrapped up in the trappings of this world. Everything is temporary but it doesn’t mean it is scarce. Being weighed down by all of the stress that scarcity brings mean not being able to see the constant flow of joy, opportunities for new beginnings, love, and good still alive all around us.

Let’s slow down when we think, rest, eat, and dream. Our body is worth trusting and wants us to trust it. We are so privileged and lucky, Amy, we really have no idea. Let’s focus on our abundance so we can share it with others. When we know what we have, we know what we can give.

There is enough food to fill our belly and to give us pleasure and we don’t have to feel ashamed of what we eat. We can enjoy, savor, and be mindful of how and what we eat and why we are eating. We don’t need permission to feed our body when it is hungry. We don’t need to eat past fullness out of fear we will never get to eat that food again. We don’t have to restrict anymore.

We can move our body for the sheer joy of it and in appreciation of all it has done, is doing, and will do for us however many years we are meant to live.

Let’s not be inactive because the diet mentality is so deeply ingrained and twisted around exercise in our brain that it is hard to separate moving our body from the hope of weight loss, which is really just a hope of being seen as worthy of love and acceptance.

Our body is strong and still somewhat flexible (let’s try some yoga for this, okay?) and healthy, let’s focus on the abundance of this and move our body out of that mindset.

We aren’t our family. Their money issues aren’t ours. Their inability to have healthy relationships and marriages and live authentic lives don’t reflect on us. We are not doomed to repeat their mistakes. If anything, we have learned from them. How about we stop living from all the “what not to do’s” we learned from them and start focusing on what we have overcome, let go, forgive, and move on to the healing and the abundant future awaiting us?

Perfectionism is another scarcity mindset lie. It doesn’t exist, nor should it. We are free to make mistakes and learn and grow from them instead of feeling ashamed of them.

We were not born evil and in need of being made good and lovable by someone else. We were born in the image of God, who is all things love and goodness. Forget all of the fear-mongering, shaming, narcissistic religious bullshit shoved down our throat as children. That was all about control, another scarcity mindset tactic, and Amy, we are free. We are so fucking free to be exactly who we are.

Our marriage to John is beautiful because it is real. It is raw, vulnerable, and ever-growing, and it is authentic, transparent, and real. Don’t compare it to someone else’s marriage. We can’t see into the lives of others.

Let’s not rush the healing, depth, effective communication, and intimacy in our marriage. God willing, our marriage is growing into a mighty oak wrapped in decades of rings with unbreakable, replenishing roots that sway with the wind without snapping.

Right now, it is still a young, vulnerable sapling, only eight years old. It needs love, care, grace, understanding, forgiveness, nurture, trust, faith, rest, unity, sunshine, and patience. It needs time and it will need storms. Don’t be afraid of this.

Let’s not worry so much about money. We have enough to get by on. Let’s not be in such a rush to pay off debt, save money, buy a house, or whatever we see others doing that it’s not yet our time to do that we settle again for work that isn’t right for who we are, forces our self to stifle who we really are and what we really want, and lie awake at night in such unnecessary fear, anger, envy, resentment, and frustration. And remember, just because someone else has what we want doesn’t mean there’s now less of it left for us.

Amy, the way out of this scarcity mindset we’ve lived our whole life in is trust. Trust in ourselves. Trust in God or destiny or the Universe or whoever created us and is running things. Trust in our body to work and look as it was written in our DNA. Trust that we are always abundant in love, even if rejected, abandoned, and hurt by the ones we love. Trust that pain and suffering are a part of life and not to be feared because we also trust there is an abundance of good and joy in the world, no matter what our Twitter feeds tell us daily.

Slow down. Take deep breaths. Live in the present. Feel emotions and know none of them are wrong and all of them are valid and valued. We are not too much. We are not a burden. We matter. Our dreams and passions matter.

Our purpose is to live as our authentic self, love who we are exactly as we are, love others exactly as they are, and know our purpose will shift and change as our story weaves, waxes, and wanes through everywhere we’ve been and everywhere we are headed, no matter how long or short the story is.

Everything is happening as it is meant to. Listen to your gut. Listen to your heart. Take care of yourself. Be responsible for how you treat yourself and others and how your words and behavior affect others. And live in gratitude because really, we have been through hell, but we have never been defeated and we’ve truly never been unloved. There is nothing scarce in who we are, what life has given us, or what life still has left in store for us.

Love,

Me

Showing Up

There Is Only “Now”

A few weeks ago, as we were eating breakfast, I went to get a second piece of the quiche I made right as I finished the first, and John said, “Maybe you should wait before you eat anymore. It takes at least 20 minutes for our brains to register that our stomachs are full.” I both felt enraged that he was spitting that diet mentality bullshit back at me and like I’d been stabbed in the heart. The look I gave him was enough to motivate him to get up and cut that second piece for me.

I didn’t know what to say. I knew I needed to say something to let him know that I cannot have him commenting on my eating habits like everyone else has my whole life. All I got out at the time was, “You sound just like my mom right now.”

While sitting there, barely acknowledging the piece of quiche I’d wanted just moments before while I ate it, I thought about my baby book. My mom gave it to me a couple of months ago. I remembered all of the notes about my weight she’d gotten from doctors and decided to hold onto as keepsakes. After breakfast, I grabbed that book and sat down on the couch opposite of John and started flipping through it.

I knew there were a lot of notes from my pediatrician about my weight in the book, but I was appalled to find out how far they went back.

The first one was dated September 28, 1984. My brother Adam wasn’t even a month old yet. I was about 2 weeks shy of my 2nd birthday. I first remembered being conscious of my body and weight around 5 years old, but it turns out the seeds were planted much earlier on. In the notes, my then pediatrician told my mom to carefully watch my weight. She, with her own lifelong history of disordered thinking around her body and weight, took that shit seriously and never stopped until just recently.

When I finished reading note after note about watching my weight, I looked at John and said, “I have never been able to have any peace with my body or with food. I never got to learn how to intuitively eat. I’ve never been allowed to trust my body. My weight and what I eat has been a topic of great concern and commentary my entire goddamn life.”

I have been thinking about this ever since, and unpacking the trauma behind it all. I have a lot of internalized fatphobia around it that I am continuously unpacking as well.

I have been obsessed with my weight and body my whole life because I thought I had to be, to seem like I was paying attention to it and working on it to make other people happy. I’ve been blogging about it since October 1, 2001. I’m beyond exhausted over it all and just want to stop.

I told John today that I don’t give a shit what people think of my body when I’m out in a swimsuit at the pool or beach, but that was a lie. Today, I almost didn’t go to the pool when I heard a couple of teenagers talking and playing in it. Then I turned away from them, like I turn away from John even though he knows what my body looks like from all angles, to take my pants off, took a deep breath before I turned around, walked to the edge, and jumped into the pool.

I worry about people thinking I’m pregnant because my belly sticks out a lot in comparison to my proportionate chest, hips, thighs, and shoulders.

I worry about John telling me, “Okay, this is about as fat as I can stand you. You need to lose weight.”

My brain continues to remind me that it doesn’t believe that I can take care of myself without the strictness of weighing myself and counting calories.

I talk about others never allowing me any peace or trust in my body, but I don’t have it for myself either. I instead run a continuous loop of all of these scenarios in my head to prepare myself for the comments of others that never come and if they did, do not define me.

I decided to take the above pics tonight to make a statement to myself to stop looking at myself as some project to fix and a body I can’t fully inhabit until it is societally acceptable. There is nothing wrong with it, nothing that deems me unlovable, but yet…

I have stopped dancing because I don’t like seeing my belly and thighs flopping all around when I shake my hips.

I have stopped wearing some of my favorite dresses because they still fit but more snugly around my belly.

I always wear leggings under my dresses because I don’t like how lumpy my legs are and because my thighs merge into one large mass when there is no fabric between them.

I am always making jokes about how fat I am in front of John.

Last week, I listened to @the.holistic.psychologist’s (Instagram) inner child meditation on YouTube. In it, you envision walking up to your childhood home (in my case, my grandmother June’s house since my parents moved every 2 years until they divorced), seeing the little child version of yourself, taking them by the hand, walking through the house and seeing every room, walking back outside, kneeling down to the child’s level, holding them, and telling them, “You are safe, you are loved, you are wanted, you are enough.”

I felt a wall of resistance at the beginning of the meditation. I thought, No, this is dumb. This is stupid. I can’t do this. I can’t meditate. I can’t get the breathing right. I don’t want to do this, but I persisted. Just at the point of holding my little child version’s hand and going into the house sent sobs wracking through my body. I could see every room in that house, and I heard June and Lib in the kitchen, but I didn’t see anyone. I could feel all of the pain, trauma, shame, and tension that I lived in at that time and for years to come. Coming back out and kneeling to about 5 or 6-year-old me, hugging her, and saying those words, more sobs came out instead of the words.

I never felt safe in that house. It was impossible to with all of the fighting and dysfunction and two uncles who made me feel very aware and very protective of my body while also very ashamed of it.

I never felt loved or wanted by parents. I only felt in the way. Hearing my mom say years later that I was too emotional, a burden, and that neither her nor my dad wanted me when they got divorced felt like a confirmation of that lack of love I felt from them and that it was my fault.

I never felt secure then and I don’t now. I know that’s why I go so all-or-nothing and fantasize that if I could just lose weight/get out of debt/find a husband/find a job I love/etc. as fast as possible, I can finally relax and enjoy my life. And life doesn’t work like that.

The peace I want isn’t just about being able to eat without diet advice or commentary. The trust isn’t about just preventing myself from binge and emotional eating so I don’t get any fatter.

This is all about grounding myself in who I am so that I don’t base my identity on how others see, think, or feel about me.

It is like those poles you see at the beach that tell you how high the storm surge of each category of hurricanes can get that actually survive the hurricane with the marks to show disaster assessors how high the waves got during the peak of the storm. I want to be firmly planted but able to bend and sway in the wind without snapping in two.

A friend of mine recently said my “color” (fire) seems to dim more and more every year, and she questioned if my marriage has played a role in that.

I don’t believe it is my marriage itself, but my expectations of myself in our marriage and my issues with codependency and people-pleasing. (This is not about the conflicts in my marriage that relate to both of us, and I’m not bearing all of the responsibilities and blame in them either.)

This is about me always putting myself and my desires on the back burner, something I have done my entire life. Spending more time wanting to be a different person, or at least have a different person’s body because I’ve been convinced my whole life that mine is wrong and flawed. About me still believing I am too much and being afraid of shining too brightly. About me being so intent on developing relationships with others that I don’t have the time or energy to develop the lifelong one with myself.

I’ve wanted to felt seen, known, and heard my whole life, yet I procrastinate and do everything I can to avoid allowing the person to see, know, and hear me to be me. I ache to be encouraged, celebrated, and affirmed, but withhold those things from being done by me. I thought the other night that I keep looking back at the me John found more attractive nearly eight years ago that I don’t stop to acknowledge how much I’ve been through in those eight years and that maybe, quite possibly, I’m a completely different, but stronger and better, person now. And that being in this relationship was the catalyst that made me face a lot of the trauma and associated emotions that only being with someone else, no matter who it was, could help me face and heal from.

Last Friday, I quit my second job in the past year and a half because it wasn’t right for me. I went against my gut yet again and wound up with a boss I had doubts about from the get-go. Again, settling and selling myself short. However, in this one, I began to find my voice and speak up for myself. I also decided to trust that my debt will get paid off, but that it is better that it is not at the expense of my mental or physical health. I am very fortunate as well that John is a supportive husband and has the means to cover the majority of our living expenses while I figure out what to do next.

First step is that it is time to get to know myself. To spend my free time alone and start not only hearing myself, but actually listening. To live fully in and enjoy my body as it currently is because no matter what, it will change numerous times throughout the remainder of my life. To write and maybe learn to meditate or at least figure out how to slow the swirling thoughts down in my head. To find things that scare me and do them.

To enter into a peace treaty with myself and decide okay, I am going to trust myself.

My goal this summer is to take life as it comes each day and take myself just as I am in those days because “now” is all I really have.

Showing Up

2019 Words: “Show Up”

Image Source: Canva

My words for 2019 were originally going to be “Focus” and “Finish.” The thought behind this was this was going to be the year I focused on things like my debt and health and finished the bad habits that got me in debt and have been detrimental to my health.

But those are impossible, black and white, all or nothing goals, and that kind of thinking is the most detrimental of all and allows no grace or room for failure and growth.

Grace and room for growth are what I’ve starved myself from most my entire life and why life feels too hard to live most of the time.

The past several months, basically since my last blog post in December, have been quite challenging.

There has been some good, like I have a new job that pays well and offers benefits I haven’t had in 3 years, and we have a new dog, a 5-year-old terrier mix named Chewy:

But there have been some challenges:

  • When I went for my annual exam back in December, my OB-GYN did bloodwork, which showed my thyroid was very underactive again, my triglycerides were high (though my overall cholesterol was great), and I am pre-diabetic.
  • The worse hypothyroidism is likely the reason for my intense and chronic exhaustion and weight gain/struggle to lose weight over the past year, along with the hair loss and scaly and dry skin and hair I’ve had.
  • My PCOS-related insulin resistance is leading to diabetes, and I have felt really betrayed by my own body while also beating myself up for not eating better foods and not exercising. Trying to get a grasp on IE when my insulin levels and blood sugar are all over the map and I am constantly exhausted and craving carbohydrates feels really hard too.
  • John and I had our worst fight ever in mid-January to the point I worried our marriage was over. In hindsight, it was a fight we needed to have because we both said a lot of things that needed to be said, but it felt so awful and scary in the midst of it.
  • My mom and I had a big fight at the end of December because she wants me to believe in God the way she does and I can’t and she won’t try to understand where I’m coming from and accused me of being defensive and combative when I tried to explain my feelings and it just reminded me so much of our past fights and how powerless I felt in them.
  • I also feel like I will never be able to talk to her about my struggles with Christianity, as I know she feels I will never understand her faith. I do understand how much it has saved and comforted her in her pain, and I am grateful she has that. It is the close-mindedness and political side that I can’t understand, that pains me and makes me feel like I can’t be totally open or safe in our relationship.
  • I started the year with $9200 in credit card debt and felt very frustrated all of January because the whole transition with my new job kept me from really paying anything off right off the bat.
  • The driver job I had for the week of the Super Bowl turned out way differently than as advertised, and I lost a week’s pay from it that I didn’t really recoup.

In the midst of all of this, I have had this little voice inside of me telling me, “Speak up for yourself. Stop just going along with everything. What do you want?

In the fight John and I had, out of anger, he said, “If you just had more confidence, everything would be so much better.” He also said everything was going well and I just “had to fuck it all up.”

That little voice led me to tell John two things:

  • Just because things are going well for you in our marriage DOES NOT mean they are going well for me.
  • While I struggle with confidence in my body and how I look, I am very confident with who I am as a person. I know I am smart and strong and extremely capable and I am confident to show this to others which is one reason I beat out over 600 applicants for my current job. I know I am a good person and know I deserve to treated with kindness and respect.

I have allowed people to run me over for so much of my life. To tell me or shame me into what I believe, think, feel, and how to act. To cause me to shrink and shrivel myself down to nothing. I have allowed people to keep me from inhabiting my whole body, no matter what it looks like, and to convince me it is not and I am not good enough. I have allowed people to convince me that, like John said, I am always fucking everything up with my feelings and needs and words.

That voice telling me to speak up is a small one in a cacophony of a lifetime of self-criticism and self-loathing that demands that I stay small and quiet. But it is growing louder.

After two jobs, one for 6 years and another for 6 months, where I allowed abusive and demeaning behavior because I felt like I had to, just as I did growing up, I am finding myself thinking more of what I need in my new job and how to speak up for it. It’s still tough though. I still feel timid asking my new boss for things and telling her when I am overwhelmed and need help, especially because my tendency is to just suck it up.

My new boss seems to be a very genuine person and doesn’t try to be formal and definitely doesn’t micromanage. She says what she thinks, comes to work in flip-flops, khakis, and a polo shirt, and she believes in me. Said I was her first interview of the day and I set the bar for the rest of the day so high no one else could reach it, and she had to hire me as soon as she could.

But then again, after being burned twice, I have new boundaries when it comes to work.

I started to go with “Speak Up” as my words for 2019, but no, it is more than that.

In speaking up for myself, I am SHOWING UP for myself.

And that is what I need most, to show up for myself in all aspects of the words.

I am showing up for my health by rejoining the LA Fitness gym by my job so I can exercise after work. It is funny how we can feel too tired to exercise but it is by exercising often times that we gain more energy. I also want to feel more wholly inhabitative (is that a word?) of my body and exercise helps me do this.

I have also followed my doctor’s suggestion of increasing my Levothyroxine dosage to light a fire under my thyroid. I started the 175g dosage in mid-January and when he did follow-up bloodwork in mid-February, my thyroid hormones were already improving. It takes about 6-8 weeks to start feeling better, so I am trying to rest more/get more sleep overall and in the meantime.

I also got a much-needed haircut (and went back to my natural brunette color so I can grow out my roots without it being so obvious) to help with the health of my hair and the hair loss.

In addition, I started taking a multi-vitamin again.

I can recognize that my insulin resistance is causing my constant up and down with hunger and this is triggering all of my fears about gaining more weight, becoming diabetic, and that I need to restrict foods which will just lead to more disordered and likely binge eating. I have started looking into seeing a HAES nutritionist and maybe a therapist but I need to figure out if I can afford to pay for either since I’ve found neither that are covered under my insurance.

I am showing up for my financial health by taking a proactive stance with the money I make and how I spend it. I have a spreadsheet with probably 10 tabs detailing how much I make and how I make it (regular job, selling stuff, side gigs like the Super Bowl gig) and how I spend it.

My two main goals for this year are to pay off my credit card and save at least $2K. Since January 1st, I have paid off $960 of credit card debt and will probably end the month at over $1000 paid off because I get paid weekly now instead of bi-weekly. I have also saved up $400 in the past 6 weeks or so.

I will get two paychecks from my Super Bowl gig, one for regular hourly pay which I got in the mail last Saturday and one for the 20% gratuity of each job which I will get in the mail a month from now. Both checks are going straight to my credit card debt. Any money I get outside of my paycheck like from rebate apps I use goes straight to savings. Same with money I make selling stuff online, like over $100 from selling clothes, a purse, and shoes on Poshmark.

I also spoke up and asked John for his credit card to pay for Missy’s mouth infection surgery this week (4th one since July 2017, sadly, and no idea yet why it keeps happening) when I picked her up after work. I’m glad he paid for it because the $815 her oral surgery cost was more than I had in the bank and would’ve wiped out all the progress I’ve made on my credit card debt payoff.

Like many Americans, we learned we owe money to the IRS on our taxes this year thanks to the new tax bill. Because John was smart and maxed out his IRA contribution last year, we owe a lot less than we would have. He paid the $994 tax bill since he has the money from working so much overtime and paying off all of his own debt, and he wants me to focus on paying off my debt this year. We are getting $886 back from the state of Georgia, which is massive and more than we’ve ever gotten back before. He said I could use that towards my debt too, which I will be. I am very thankful for John’s help in this.

It is hard for me to say no to myself just as it is for me to say it to those closest to me. I still want to shop online when I’m bored or sad. I still get tired of eating a sandwich every day at work and want to go to Chick-Fil-A or something.

I am also so incredibly impatient. I know just like with weight gain, the debt accumulation didn’t happen overnight. And in the same way, I won’t pay it off overnight either. Even slow progress is progress, and I am trying to focus more on the present and what I can do now instead of thinking so far ahead.

Showing up for myself allows for me to acknowledge and validate where and who I am in my life. It helps me see me. I so often want to feel seen by others, like John and my parents, but I neglect to really see myself. It allows me to recognize failure is not the end but a re-route to a new road in my journey. I can stop myself in the middle of catastrophizing I am prone to doing and say, Hey! Shit happens, okay? How can you learn from this? What can you do differently?

I was not taught to explore and be curious growing up. I was taught to be rigid and small-minded and always on alert. To rest was being lazy and worthless. To think outside the box or question anything was being disrespectful or ridiculous and isolating. To feel and ask for anything was being burdensome and shameful.

June is the only person who really showed up for me growing up, and even she had her limits when it came to emotions, affection, communication, and needs, and the environment we lived in together was an endlessly volatile battleground where to be vulnerable could damn near kill you or make you wish you were dead.

I am so grateful for that now small voice that whispers to me to speak up for myself and cheers me on when I do. I don’t know where it came from, but I am thankful it is there now. This year, I want to encourage that voice to grow louder and for me to trust and follow its directions.

This is not a year for more rigidity and self-defeat, self-doubt, self-loathing, and allowing myself to be trampled under the expectations and opinions of me, and needs of others.

What do I want?

Who do I want to be?

How can I think, behave, and live differently?

How can I fully live in this body I have as it is?

How can I finally see myself exactly as I am and stop sending myself the same hateful messages sent to me growing up and still all around me in our society?

How can I have a job I like that doesn’t become toxic?

How can the money I earn finally become mine?

How can I focus on each day alone as it happens and stop getting ahead of myself?

How can I do my part to have a healthy marriage with John?

By showing up for myself.

I know by proclaiming these words this year, God/the Universe will throw lots of opportunities for me to prove I am on my team, but I have known for a long time that conflict creates growth and fosters healing. I just pray for some grace and courage to be packed in with those opportunities.

What is/are your word(s) for 2019?

Beautiful You

Day 12 – Beautiful You – Realize That Your Dissatisfaction is Not About Your Body

Stories

The past several days have been really rough for me. I let my depression and anxiety and the negative thoughts that come with them destroy my peace of mind. I shut myself off from friends and John. I woke up crying yesterday and then really broke down when John pulled me out of bed and asked me what was wrong.

While thoroughly soaking the shoulder of John’s nice shirt with my tears (and snot, sorry), he told me about an article he read on a study of learned helplessness in dogs (it is so sad, I can’t even write it out here, but look it up if you’re curious) and how the only way the researchers could get them to get up and eat and move instead of cower in fear of being shocked over and over again was to grab them up by their back legs and pull them up.

When he finished telling me about the article, he said, “I’m not sure how this applies to you, but it came to mind.”

I replied, “Are you saying someone needs to grab me up by my legs and make me move?”

He responded (paraphrased because I can’t remember his exact words), “I think you feel like you can’t go anywhere or do anything because you don’t have a job yet or extra money so you wind up doing nothing and feel like shit.”

This is true. This is the story I’ve told myself over and over again. I don’t deserve to do anything. I can’t afford to do anything. I need to be applying for jobs 24/7.

This past week, I think I got dressed and left the house twice. My sleep schedule got all screwed up. John said when he left for work at 2p, I was in my PJs in my usual spot on the couch and when he got home at 4a, I was in the same PJs and in the same spot, and to him, that screams that I’ve given up even though he says he knows better. I don’t think he’s totally wrong though. In a lot of ways, I have given up lately.

This past week, I let the negative, critical, demeaning stories I tell myself break me and leave me sobbing in my husband’s arms for 30 minutes. (Progress though: I used to never be able to cry in front of anyone else, and John has grown in leaps and bounds at showing empathy instead of immediately trying to fix the situation.)

The crying helped though. Right before John pulled me out of bed, I was lying there picturing a town filling with water, flooding with no way for the water to escape. And as soon as I started crying, I saw the dam break and the waters flow out. Sometimes, no answers can be found, no relief can be felt until the tears come. This is something I wish I knew and honored growing up, but with my family, I understand why it took so long for me to know and honor.


From Beautiful You, by Rosie Molinary, the Day 12 prompt which plays into a lot of what I’ve been feeling most of my life:

TODAY: In your “Beautiful You” journal, consider that your dissatisfaction is not about your body. When you accept that thought, what comes to mind? What is your dissatisfaction really about? What is trying to tell you? What part of your life could you address to foster more overall contentment?

All right, let’s do this.

When you accept that thought, what comes to mind?

That I’ve made my body my excuse and scapegoat for most of my life and punished it for something it never did.


What is your dissatisfaction really about?

Fear. I often blame my weight and body for why I can’t do the things I love, like sing or dance in front of others. I blame it for an unsatisfying sex life. I blame it for not allowing me to be stylish and beautiful even though there are plenty of adorable clothes in my size. I blame it for not being able to do the physical activities I love without struggle, like hiking and running, even though I can definitely be athletic and fat because I was for the first 20 years of my life. I blame it for why I didn’t get to have fun in high school and have boyfriends and etc. and kept myself at home instead.

My dissatisfaction is in my fear of being seen, making mistakes, looking stupid, being a beginner and what others think of me. What’s crazy is, John told me yesterday that NOT doing what I want to do, and not my weight gain, is what causes him to be less attracted to me at times. No one wants to be around someone who lives like a bump on a log. I definitely don’t like me when I am being a bump on a log and can totally understand being unattractive to others for being this way.


What is it trying to tell you?

That it is not my body I often dislike, it is me. Because I know I am better than the person I allow the bullshit lies in my head make out to be. I know I am smart and capable. It’s telling me hiding myself with the idea that my life will finally be perfect and everyone will love me when I’m thin or out of debt or whatever is really what is wasting my life. It is telling me this is all I’ve got – this body and this life – and I can’t keep waiting for something that will never come.


What part of your life could you address to foster more overall contentment?

Like John told me yesterday, I GET to go outside. I have nothing keeping me from walking out the door and going wherever I want. I might not be able to afford the dance classes I want to take right now, but there’s YouTube and just putting on music and dancing in my living room. I want to work on realizing that there is so much I can do without a job or money and in my body as it is and to actually do it. Sitting in my dark apartment all day and night with no concept of time sure as shit isn’t cutting it for me and only adds to my greatest fear of wasting my life and not living it to the fullest.

You can read all of my other posts from Rosie Molinary’s Beautiful You here.

Beautiful You

Day 10 – Beautiful You – Consider Your Positive Memories

Positive Thinking

Last night, as I drifted off to sleep, I prayed, Please, God, surprise me this week.

Pause.

But let it be good surprises. I feel like I have to put that disclaimer there because I don’t trust that you won’t allow something awful to happen to teach me persistence or patience or growth or some shit.

Pause.

Yes, God, I obviously have trust issues with you but can you blame me? Being raised in a church that told me to welcome conflict, that you allow sorrow and pain in order to bring me closer to and make me dependent on you? Asking you for things makes me feel like I need to duck under some protective cover, like the other shoe is going to drop right on my head.

Pause.

Let’s work on this trust thing maybe? Show me you allow good things too, please. Like maybe I get a call back about a job? Or I don’t catch John’s awful cold even as he snores and coughs all over me (unintentionally?) in his sleep? Something?

Pause, as I think of all the other people who need something good to happen to them this week. Families who lost their beloved to murders by the police or our government at the Mexican border or to drugs or PTSD or suicide or a million other things.

Maybe let us all have some good surprises this week because let me tell you, God, things have been kinda shitty everywhere lately if you haven’t noticed (and too many times it feels like you don’t notice or don’t care, honestly). Okay? Can this happen, please?

I then fell asleep.

I did have one nice surprise today (Monday): I’ve been dreading going to Walmart to pick up my birth control because this year, it has cost me $400 every three months. United Healthcare also sent me a letter this month saying they will no longer cover this birth control I have taken for the past 7 years to keep my PCOS and endometriosis symptoms at bay and my periods regular.

I am going to see my OBGYN on December 13th for my annual visit so I will have to ask him to write me a new prescription.

But I finally decided to go to Walmart because I can’t go without my birth control between tomorrow and December 13th. I wanted to cry at adding an additional $400 of debt to my credit card but I had no other choice and knew I’d be reimbursed in the next month or so.

Well, somehow, it wound up only being $91 this time and it just dawned on me this is because we finally met our deductible for the year, like just now dawned on me, haha. I thought maybe they’d only given me a month’s worth but nope, all 3 months were there.

It still went on my credit card but it wasn’t as painful as it would’ve been so thanks, God.

Nice surprise #1.


On Day 10 of Rosie Molinary’s book Beautiful You, she writes about having her students look at their positive memories and what they appreciate about themselves. She does this to help them see how body image is played out in our culture and our own paradigms.

The writing prompt is as follows:

Today: Answer these questions in your “Beautiful You” journal. What do you appreciate most about yourself? What are you most confident about? What is the first positive memory you have of yourself? Was anyone there to witness that moment? If so, who was there and how did he, she, or they react?

What do I appreciate most about myself?

I would say my self-awareness and willingness to see myself as honestly and open-mindedly as possible and grow and change where I need to. This is so hard sometimes, maybe most of the time, because there is a lot I need to learn and embrace and grow from, but I always know I will be better for it.

When John and I do these painfully long walks and I’m tired, my legs ache, I’m starving, and it’s a long way back and I just want to sit down, I think, Amy, the only way you’re going to get home is to walk back and the sooner you start, the sooner you will be home.

I think that is a pretty good analogy of how I look at my life and myself. Growth and change are exhausting and the “other side” and whatever better, stronger version of me exists there feel so far away, but the only way I am going to get there is to face my bullshit head on, and the sooner I do this, the sooner I will evolve and become a better person for myself and everyone around me.


What am I most confident about?

While my faith in God and Christianity goes through a deconstruction and rebuilding phase, one thing remains in all I learned growing up:

There is a purpose for every season in our lives and some good will come out of all the bad.

I know this comes off as trite at times and I also acknowledge the privilege I can speak this from, but seriously, Mr. Rogers said it, “Look for the helpers.” The good is out there. Even in the darkest shit, something good happens even if we don’t always live to see it, even if it’s not in our lifetime.

I am a better, stronger, smarter, funnier, kinder, more empathetic and compassionate person for all the dysfunction and abuse I have lived through. Do I wish none of it happened to me? Yes. Would I go back and change anything? No. (Well, maybe one thing but overall, no.)

There is still good. I can be good, I can do good because I know how much it hurts when hurt people hurt people. I am a hurt person and I have hurt others from this hurt.

We are all individual stories in a epic collection of stories, and there is gold even in the darkness.


What is my first positive memory of myself? Was anyone there to witness that moment? If so, who was there and how did he/she/they react?

My first memory is being 3 years old and at the movie theater with my grandmother June who took me to see the Rainbow Brite movie. I was obsessed with Rainbow Brite. I don’t really remember a reaction from June then though.

I guess the first really positive memory of myself has to be in second grade. My teacher Mrs. Taylor adored me and I adored her. She loved to tell me and my parents how smart and sweet she thought I was and what a great speller I was.

She was so encouraging at a time I felt very ignored and neglected by my parents. It was just Adam and me then (Mama was pregnant with Ben). Adam was already the favored child and I was always getting yelled at for acting out because I was jealous of this and already felt like a burden and problem.

I remember my dad saying to me in front of Mrs. Taylor, “Why are you so good here and so bad at home?”

She saw what they didn’t and maybe couldn’t at the time, I guess.

Years later, she found me on Facebook and messaged me. She said I was always one of her favorite students and she thought of me often and always remembered me as her sweet, smart student. I told her she was my favorite teacher throughout school and it was her confidence in me at such a young age that helped me make it to where I am today.

You can read all of my other posts from Rosie Molinary’s Beautiful You here.

Beautiful You

Day 9 – Beautiful You – Consider What Your Words Are Really Saying

Danielle Koepe

I meant to post this yesterday, but wound up napping during the Iron Bowl (Roll Tide!) then again after dinner because I got very little sleep Friday night, so I didn’t get around to finishing it up. (I’m a light sleeper, John has a cold that has him stopped up and snoring like I don’t know what, and this is why we need to get the bed for our spare bedroom put together already so I can sleep there when I can’t sleep next to him.)

I went to bed about 9:30 or 10p last night and woke up at 4:45a and never could go back to sleep, so around 8a, I finally decided to just get up. I wound up having an idea that relates to this post, which you can read about on my Instagram page.

Onward to today’s writing prompt…


Today: As you begin to make Self-Appreciation Jar deposits for things you no longer want to be saying, take note of your words. What is it that you say about yourself? Why do you say it? What are your emotions when you say it?

Write it down in your “Beautiful You” journal, then consider what you are really saying. If “I am fat” is always coming to your lips, think those words through until you are holding some truth.

Are you unhappy with your weight because you would like to be more healthy – perhaps able to walk up stairs without losing your breath or get off a certain type of medication – or are you unhappy with your weight because it doesn’t meet a Hollywood standard of beauty?

By really examining the motivation behind your words, you can see the truth and act accordingly.

No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you and I didn’t get the numbering wrong.

As Rosie writes in the intro of the book, I skipped a day that didn’t really apply to me.

But it isn’t that it didn’t apply.

Day 8 was about creating a Self-Appreciation Jar and putting quarters in it for every critical thought to visualize how costly it is when we knock ourselves.

I have not done this because, well, I am unemployed and don’t have any extra change to toss into a jar. Also, with all of the thoughts that fly through my brain on a regular basis, there aren’t enough quarters or jars in the world to fill. Okay, maybe I just think that because I don’t realize once I started throwing money in, I might see how expensive these critical thoughts are and think, Hmm, maybe I should stop before it costs me everything.

Those expensive critical thoughts, however, go something like this:

I’m too fat.

I’m going to wind up having diabetes or dying of heart disease because I won’t lose weight.

I will never have a fulfilling life.

I am a boring, uninteresting person.

I am wasting my life.

I’m too lazy.

I’m not creative.

I am a failure.

I am stupid.

I will always be struggling financially.

John probably wishes he’d married someone else.

I am a burden and a drain.

I will never get my shit together.

Why do I say these things about myself?

Because I am constantly comparing myself to other people who seem to know what they’re doing and I come up short. I don’t know how to market myself or draw pretty graphics or write professionally or take beautiful photos. I keep settling for jobs that are emotionally draining because I keep chasing the feeling that being out of debt will make me feel better. (It does for a little bit, but like with losing weight without dealing with all of the emotional shit, it winds up being not enough when you haven’t really done the work to be smarter with your finances.) I look at other people my age and think they are so far “ahead” of me because they have good jobs, make enough money to enjoy doing things like travel without going into debt, and they own their own homes while I have none of those things at the moment.

Because I grew up in an environment where it was thought being mean and critical was the only way to teach someone to change their behavior and I carried those behaviors with me. I remember getting so angry at my dad because the only time he really paid attention to me as a kid was when I did something wrong and ignored me the rest of the time and his explanation was, “I figure when you’re behaving yourself and being quiet, it’s best to just leave you alone.” And now I pretty much do the same thing to myself and to John. I really struggle to bring light to the good in both myself and John and our marriage and tend to focus on what needs to be “fixed.”


How do I feel when I say those things?

Defeated. This morning, while trying to make myself sleepy enough to go back to sleep, I saw a post on Reddit that asked, “If you had killed yourself a year ago today, what would you have missed out on?”

Instead of answering that question, I thought instead back to 14 years ago when I had all but decided to kill myself after I finished college. I had so many of those same thoughts back then about my body (weighed what I weigh now but had zero cardiovascular endurance and walking more than to my car from my dorm made my whole body hurt), being a burden (this was around the time my mom told me I’d been one to her growing up), feeling so lazy and unambitious and like my college degree was a waste (I was so depressed I could barely function and just barely graduated), and I could not see my life ever being good. Everything hurt. Everything felt like shit.

I still feel like that sometimes, but when I think back to all I’ve done and all I’ve experienced in the past 14 years? Oh my god. Yeah, a lot of shitty stuff happened, but the good! I moved to Atlanta and started a life of my own. I met a man unlike any I grew up around whom I fell in love with and who loves me just as I am. I made such incredible friends. I now have a great relationship with my mom and my brothers and I are best friends and we love talking to each other and love the time we get to spend together. I’ve traveled places on my own. I’ve lived in a big city (Chicago makes Atlanta look like a small town). I’ve seen and played in snow (and lots of it)! I’ve read such great books and seen so much cool stuff and I’ve seen myself grow more and more into the person I wanted to be then but felt I never could.

Those thoughts are the “nothing” thoughts in my vicious all-or-nothing cycle. All I see are those words. Grace would tell me, “I am fat, but I am healthy and I feed myself nourishing food and move my body when I feel able to.”

I could apply “Yeah, but…” to just about anything.

The idea I had this morning instead of throwing quarters in a jar every time I have a critical thought about myself is a “How Did I Make Today A Day” list in my journal, on Evernote, or a scrap of paper. I am so much a “Today will be THE day” about eating healthier, exercising, saving money, not spending, looking for jobs, etc., and when I do something that feels like a mistake (eat ice cream for dinner, lie on the couch all day, buy something online or at Target, etc.), I send myself into a shame spiral and wind up on a quest to numb my feelings, which means binge eating or shopping with my credit card or whatever.

So on this note, I will write things like “Took Missy for a walk around the apartment complex,” “read a book outside on my settee,” “applied for one job/spent 30 minutes looking for jobs to apply for,” “uninstalled Ebates from my phone so I wouldn’t go online shopping out of boredom and buy something for the cash back,” and etc.

Social media, television, books, and more lead us to believe we live life on a rigid timeline. By 25, we’re supposed to be married. By 35, we are supposed to be established in a career. By 40, we should have two children. As a late bloomer who started her period a month before her 14th birthday while all of her friends started around their 10th and 11th birthdays and who didn’t get her first kiss or have sex for the first time til just prior to her 29th birthday, I know damn well there’s no real timeline.

There’s no one way to have a body.

Debt is not the worst thing in the world (though man, it must be nice to not have any).

NO ONE has their shit completely together because there’s really no such thing because no one is perfect.

EVERYONE is figuring things out as they go along.

What is meant to happen in my life will happen. Like Liz Gilbert says, my boat will not leave without me.


What am I really saying?

I want to lose weight because I want to feel lighter in my body. What I mean is, it is really hard to do the activities I want to do, like hike and run and cycle, with 270 pounds on my back, hips, and knees. It hurts. I have really fucking strong legs because they hold up this weight, but the weight causes me a lot of pain. Funny, but painful story: One time, John and I were hiking Kennesaw Mountain and when I jumped off a rock, my BELLY SLAPPED THE TOPS OF MY THIGHS. Like slapped so hard, John looked around thinking someone had fallen somewhere. I screamed from the sharp pain then started laughing and told John what happened.

I don’t want to be super skinny and know I will likely never be thin. I want to be able to do the activities I love without feeling so heavy and weighed down.

I want to be out of debt so the money I make is mine to do the things I want to do and so I can also help others. I am so tired of giving my money to these huge banks and credit card companies because I couldn’t afford what I wanted and had to borrow money from them. I am not a victim to them by any means. I am just tired of depending on them.

I want to be creative and smart and know how to market myself because I want to work for myself and be my own boss. I am tired of working for someone else and putting all of my efforts towards something I don’t ever really reap the benefits of. My last boss called us admins her “factory.” Cogs in the machine. I am tired of being the factory for someone else.

I keep getting myself stuck in the “I don’t know how” phase of each of these goals. I know the statistics to regarding weight loss, getting out of debt, and working for myself, and they all say failure is all but guaranteed. I want to stop seeing failure as a sign I shouldn’t bother trying. That there are no lessons to be learned in failure. That there is no success in failure when successful people fail more than anyone.

Being alive means there is a 100% chance of failure at some point, but that doesn’t mean I can’t or shouldn’t try. To not try is a failure in its own right.

I want to write down my daily steps in the direction of grace and compassion and accomplishments, not charge myself a fee for every negative thought because those charges will only feed further into the debt I feel myself in throughout every aspect of my life.

And if some days I don’t do anything at all because I couldn’t even get out of bed, I will write down, “I’m still here and that’s the most important gift of all.”

You can read all of my other posts from Rosie Molinary’s Beautiful You here.

Beautiful You

Day 5 – Beautiful You – Consider Your Vision

Confidence, vision, beautiful You, cycling, beach
Credit: Unsplash

Oops, got behind again. It has been a rough week. Our 10-year-old Jack Russell Missy had to have four more teeth pulled today, leaving her with a grand total of 16 remaining teeth of her original 42. She has lost 26 teeth since last year. The vet suggested it might be an autoimmune type deal where her body fights against her gums and teeth. I told John between this, her stomach issues, and her anxiety, she really is my dog.

The vet told us we are now in the “keep him comfortable” stage of our 15-year-old dachshund Louie’s life. He had a rough night last night. He couldn’t get comfortable on his bed and kept wandering around throughout the night. He normally only does this when John is at work, but he was restless even with him here last night. Because of this, neither John nor I slept very well last night and are both dragging today.

We are going to Savannah next week for a mini-beach vacation and for John’s sister Sara’s wedding, and it is starting to also feel like a “farewell to Louie” tour. I cried in the bathroom when we got home from the vet because we knew this was coming but now everything is beginning to happen in much faster motion, and it is all so sad.

Today is stressful too because it is Election Day and I live in Georgia, where we are dealing with good ol boy politics (aka racist) and a Secretary of State who is running the show while also being on the ballot for governor. I had to turn off the TV and radio because it is too much seeing all of the voter suppression and other tactics going on. I know I am privileged to be able to do so. I am also glad John and I voted last Wednesday with so much going on today.

On to today’s entry…


Today’s Question: In your “Beautiful You” journal, answer these questions. What is your vision for yourself? What do you wish or want for yourself? How is that different from who you are or where you are today? What do you think would make you feel more confident?

I picked the picture of a bike in the sunshine amongst palm trees to be the pic for this post for a reason.

I have two “happy places” in my mind that I go to when I need a break from reality. They are both at the beach.

One of them is in the timeshare my dad has in Destin. It is a small condo in a large building and it is along the inside corner so you can never tell for sure what time of day it is. And when the curtains are drawn and the lights are out? It is black out city. I imagine turning the lights off, closing the blinds, turning the AC down until the room is freezing, and getting under the warm covers and sleeping so long, I don’t even know what day it is when I wake up. I have done this before and it is glorious.

But the second one relates more to my vision of myself. I’ve written about this in a previous post.

In this one, I am riding my bike along a path that parallels a coastline. The sun is on my back, my hair is flying behind me, the ocean is beside me, and I have nowhere pressing to go. I am just coasting down this path, free to enjoy the day. My skin is warm and I am relaxed.

I either own my own business, like a bakery or bed and breakfast, and I am off for the day or on a break. I am my own boss, I am not worried about money or bills (not because I am wealthy or anything, just not as worried as I am now). I go home to my small home with John where we have all the windows open to let in the ocean air and sunshine. I have time to read, write, sit outside, and I have a nice open kitchen to cook and bake for John and me. (Not all at once, though, haha.)

When I envision my body, I do still sometimes see myself as thin, but really, I just want to be in good enough cardiovascular shape to ride a bike a long distance. I see myself as strong and flexible, what I mostly want to be, whatever that means for my size and weight.

The difference between that version of me and now is one, I’m not living on the beach, haha. I also don’t own my own business and don’t even know where to start in doing so. I am still stressed out about money, especially now as I am unemployed and my savings are rapidly dwindling. I don’t own a bike and know my endurance is definitely wavering after a long sedentary period of my life since returning to Atlanta from Chicago a year ago.

There is a lot in Chicago that semi relates to this vision of myself that I miss – the city being so walkable, near the lake, working at Starbucks where it was much more freeing and more laidback than the politics of working in an office, having my own schedule (or at least a very flexible one), and all the opportunities such a big city holds.

Atlanta doesn’t feel like a fit for me at all anymore after my experience in Chicago. It was perfect for me moving out of a small town in Alabama nine years ago, but I feel on to bigger and better things and don’t feel like Atlanta can provide that for me. And there’s no huge body of water within reasonable walking distance. I was in better physical shape as well from walking everywhere all the time (minus the really super cold, windy, rainy days which do last a long time in Chicago). Then again, I don’t actually live in Atlanta now, but in an isolated part of Marietta, so that might be part of it.

I feel like I am outgrowing so much of my current life and ways of thinking. This is a rational and good thing. I am forever for personal growth and change. And I realize – and was reminded today by a Medium article I read – that I will never “arrive” anywhere. There really is no set destination – not when I lose weight, get married, move somewhere, get a job, pay off my debt, buy a house, etc. – just the journey.

Right now, there is just a gap between current me and whoever I am meant to be next. I feel like the vision I have of myself – warm sunshine, cool ocean breeze, riding my bike, reading, baking, writing, etc. – is just me wanting a simple life. I know that can’t happen 100% of the time because life is shit at times, and it would breed stagnancy and boredom, but it is me wanting to find those moments of peace that I often overlook as I await the next major crisis, the next shoe to drop.

I want to feel present and at peace in my body too, no matter what it looks like. To be in-tune with my body that I can notice the warm sun on my skin, the cool breeze in my hair, the strength of my legs pedaling my bike, and to not be worried about my shirt riding up and showing my belly or if I look terrible to someone else while doing something I enjoy.

Trust would make me more confident. Trust in my body and self with my health, finances, and more. Speaking my vision and then trusting the process to make it happen. Trust in my marriage and in John.

Trust everything is happening as it should.

Trust is what separates me from my vision of myself, but there has been significant progress and growth in this area and there is more to come.