Letter to my former self

I'm a big fan of writing letters to myself. Last year I wrote a letter to my body, which was a major healing marker for me. I also wrote a letter to my skinny jeans, which I finally got rid of. And about a month ago I wrote a letter to my former self.

It's a letter to the girl I was about 10 years ago. I've come so far from that girl- in ways I was feeling ashamed of her. Of me. And it was biting me in the ass. I was separating myself now from her which was robbing me of valuable love and learning. I soon realized I wasn't "walking the talk" of giving the advice to never apologize for who you are inside. Back then, I was exactly where I needed to be. 

******************

Dear Me, 

I owe you an apology. A big one. 

Lately I’ve been doing a lot of growth. And it’s good, but I’ve made a mistake along the way. See, I’ve been looking around inside my heart, learning from the past and have come a long way. 

But, you already know that. 

You’ve been here all along, cheering me on. The mistake I’ve made is by being ashamed of you. Looking back, I think about who you were, the mistakes you made, the ways you used to cope....and I push you away. I pretend you don’t exist. 

And recently you told me you were pissed about that. And sad too. So, I’m sorry. I really am. That was pretty shitty of me. So, I ask for your forgiveness. I understand that you were doing the best you could, with what you had, at that time. And it wasn’t a lot, I know. You coped the best way you knew how. After all, back then you wanted the same thing you do now: 

Love. 

So, I plan to look at you differently from now on. With an open heart. Without harsh judgement. I might be wiser now, but no better. 

Love,
Me

Photo credit

A HUGE beginning

ABC Family's HUGE premiered last night. I blogged about it last week, and was uncertain about what was in store for this show. Weight loss camp + entire cast of overweight teens = Skepticism in my book. I couldn't help but think of that disaster of a movie, "Shallow Hal" where the moral of the story was that beauty was on the inside. Blech. Worst way to send that message EVAR! Anyway, moving on....

My first thought was that in no way would I be able to relate this. I've always been open about my own struggles with body image, but I've never been overweight. In the first scene I noticed they show the teens in roles like every other social circle and the teens make comparisons from the beginning. The defiant rebel, Wil, is the main character. She is obviously there against her wishes and makes it known. Haley is the pretty girl, thinner than the other campers, but still overweight. In the first initial meeting, another camper tells her, "Oh my god, I hate you. Just kidding. You're so skinny!"Why is it that it seems okay to tell someone they are hated, as long as it's followed by a joke and/or it's because the person is commenting that they are skinny?

Here's what threw me for a loop. I had something in common with Wil. She is a loudmouthed, eye-rolling, attitude ridden, sarcastic, too-cool-for-school type. When I used to hate myself and my body, I was the same girl. Tough exterior and sometimes mean at the expense of others (yes, me) because I was so unhappy with myself and my life. It's not a fun place to be for anyone. In fact, it's downright shitty.

In an emotional scene the girls are informed one of the campers has been asked to leave and seek psychiatric care because she was caught vomiting. As sad as this is, I was happy to see a female showcased with (what's assumed as ) an eating disorder that isn't emaciated. Binge eating disorder is the most common eating disorder and is prevalent in about 30% of those seeking weight loss treatment (Wikipedia). Good work, ABC.

I want to point out that the acting was amazing. In the world of reality shows galore, it was really a treat to watch great actors. What struck me the most was the pained expressions and feelings on these teen's faces. And it got me thinking; these teens live this in real life. In some way or another, they have been affected by society's idealistic standards and the fact that they don't fit it. I can't imagine how painful that must be. To have your life revolve around what size you are on the outside, being judged about the kind of person you are when really, the size of your heart is really what matters.

Huge is coming...

I admit that I don't watch too much TV that often anymore. I think I might be the last person in the world who doesn't have TiVo or DVR, and watching commercials makes me a bit crazy. However, upon hearing about ABC's new drama, HUGE, I was intriuged.

It's hard to form an opinion on a show merely by the one minute trailer, however, if you know me, you know I have an opinion.

From what I understant the show revolves around teenagers at a weight loss camp. The teenagers vary from overweight to obese. They deal with normal teenage problems, feelings and drama. At a weight loss camp. Oy vey.

My first problem is the question of what's with the poster with the actress, Nikki Blonsky, looking so....sad? Uncomfortable? Jaded? Scared? From what I understand, the show is promoting living a HUGE life, which if you read my blog, you know I send the same message. But, from the poster alone, I feel that they're saying, "Hey everybody! Come check out this show! We're going to pretend we're sending a great message, but selling it to you by thinking you're coming to see a train wreck".

So, I'm torn here. My battle is the question of why does this show need to be at a weight loss camp? Or day I say it (becauses I know you're thinking it) what most people still call a "fat camp"? Why couldn't it just be overweight kids at a high school, or private prep school? Aren't all the other shows about teenagers like that?  

The only reason I can think of, is that no one would watch it if it were just overweight kids in high school dealing with high school stuff. American's are obsessed with intensity. Reality shows must contain people fighting and/or hating each other (with a side of nudity, please), we love addiction shows (I readily admit I'm intruiged by the show "Hoarders"), we can't get enough of Oprah and Kirstie Alley losing and gaining weight all over the place. So, I'm not surprised at all to see a show come along like this. Honestly, part of me wants to bang my head against my computer keyboard in frustration. Sure, it's a step in the right direction to have a show on a major network in prime time showing overweight kids, but at what cost??

I can only keep my fingers crossed that it does what I hope: Shows that teenagers of all shapes and sizes have real feelings. That they are more that just overweight. Regardless of how they got there, they all have their "stuff" they are dealing with.

I'd love to hear what you think about it. What do you think it will be like? How do you think it will be viewed? What do you think about the cast? Here's the link again to the show. I'll be blogging again on Monday right after the show airs. Stay tuned...

The Prize

"All my life I've been searching for something
Something never comes never leads to nothing
Nothing satisfies but I'm getting close
Closer to the prize at the end of the rope" -Foo Fighters

I've been thinking about that a lot lately. The prize at the end of the rope that so many people are after. What is it? Happiness? Love? Beauty? A partner? Losing weight? Organization? Size 2 jeans? A better job? Perfection? A six-figure salary? Everyone's got one. Or two. Or more.

A few weeks back I wrote about the theory of "Go Big or Go Home". In my teens and 20's I thought I had to have it all. If I didn't have it all, or at least be going for it all, and especially look like I had it all, well, that was just unacceptable. I really felt like there was something out there that would bring me all the happiness I ever needed. I planned and planned. Controlled and controlled some more. I was outwardly happy, but inside I was pretty miserable. I lived in the world of "If only..."

What if your "prize" is yourself? Your trueness. I know that sounds really serious, doesn't it? But what if we were all put on this earth so unique from one another for a precise reason? I spent a lot of years trying to fit into a box. What I thought I should be, because I didn't think who I truly was was good enough. Actually, to be honest, I didn't even know who I was. It took me getting dropped on my ass and my heart ripped out  for me to figure out what I was doing wasn't working.

So, maybe if just for a minute, we all looked around and decided that our prize was right now.

This moment.

Ourselves.

Save New Moon Girls!

7th grade. What does that evoke in you? For me, 7th grade was puberty, braces, new hips, boy crazy, new to leg shaving and wearing make-up. My mom let me subscribe to Teen magazine and I remember a particular issue where the model on the cover had a super-cool haircut. I wanted that same super-cool haircut, so off we went to Supercuts with the magazine in hand. I proudly showed the stylist and 30 minutes later I walked out of there with a mullet. I kid you not. It wasn't the stylists fault, it really was a cute mullet on the model, but I was devastated. I clearly remember crying on the way home, holding the magazine in my hand. I would love to post a picture of this, but I would not let my mom take my picture until it grew out. I thought I looked hideous. Looking back, I wanted to look like that teen model. I thought all my dreams would come true if I looked like her. It wasn't the haircut, it was everything that went along with it. The clothes, the sparkly white teeth, the perfect skin, all of it. Teen magazine was just the beginning. I later got Seventeen magazine, then Cosmopolitan, then Shape. Model after model, advertisement after advertisement, telling me what I should be: Beautiful, thin, perfect.

What is this doing to us? What is this doing to little girls?


I'm not going to get into the effects of mainstream media right now, but I want to introduce you to Nancy Gruver and her amazing magazine of nearly 2 decades, New Moon Girls. In this day and age where girls are evermore exposed to heavily sexualized imagery and messaging, New Moon Girls gives them empowerment, no advertising, a safe interactive online community, girl created content and not to mention numerous awards, year after year. Nancy wanted to have a magazine available to girls that was for, by and about girls 8 and up. On New Moon Girls Facebok page she shares messages from subscribers like this one:

"I really love your magazine. I know i sound like a ad, but it really, truly makes me feel, happy, beautiful, and unique. I wish that every girl would have a subscription to new moon girls. It would make girls feel so good. Keep making more girls feel beautiful!" - Chloe, 12, Illinois

Hoorah, right? But, here's the bad news. (Boooo, I know). New Moon Girls is in trouble and needs our help. Because of the current economic climate, New Moon Girls may have to close their doors forever. So, here's how we can all help: I have become an affiliate partner for New Moon which means I will be selling New Moon subscriptions from my blog. A year long subscription is $44.95. That's a great deal for an entire year of empowering that little girl in your life! If you choose to purchase a copy through me - you will receive a $10 discount off the total price. Making a year of empowering magazine action for just $34.95. (I will be making no commission off this).


If you don't have a girl in your life to buy a subscription for, you can still help by buying and donating a subscription to your local library or school. How's that for paying it forward? Or, if you can't buy a subscription, please consider tweeting about New Moon Girls, this post, or sharing about New Moon Girls on Facebook and become a fan yourself.

Another cool thing if you do get a subscription: Have your daughter or the girl in your life contribute to New Moon. She can send in her poetry, essays or her questions. This magazine is by, for and about girls!

Young girls don't have to be bombarded with images and messages that make them feel less than what they are. We may not ever know what they see or hear that is damaging. But, with publications like New Moon Girls, I can guarantee you'll be sure they'll get empowering messages encouraging them to be themselves, dream big, have their voices heard and to discover and honor their true selves.

So, please, buy a subscription (or two, or more!) and help New Moon Girls. For the $34.95 offer, please click here.

What do you want to BE when you grow up?

Interesting how that question is worded. Not "what do you want to DO when you grow up".

I suppose in some ways I'm just growing up now. I had several life altering experiences within a few years of each other. Bad ones. I mean really, really bad. The kind of things that make people's eyes widen and they don't know what to say. So, I've been asked many times how I came out on the other side. How did I not just wallow in self pity and become a walking disaster? Well, I was a walking disaster for several months, but some key things happened to get myself to a better place. Today I found something and would like to share with you.

I've always been in a hurry to do everything. At this point, I know it's in my DNA, and I've accepted it, so I only try to slow down when I'm being crazy and it's affecting me or someone I care about in a negative way. I walk fast, talk fast and like to cross things off my list. So, 2 years ago I was sitting in one of my coaches training classes and we were asked the question to ponder and write down the answer:

"What would you do if you knew you could not fail?" 


And being little Miss Busy Bee that I am, I started writing furiously. Making goals. The things I was supposed to do. The things I thought I should do. I even put timelines on them. I wrote about 5 things and stopped. I drew a big X through them. On the next line I wrote:

Just Be. 


Just be happy and confident and know that when the time is right and when I am ready it will happen. 


That was a big step for me. Letting go of all the doing. Letting go of control, knowing I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Looking at my own words in my own handwriting this morning brought me to tears. That was my list of hopes and dreams. That was what I wanted to be when I grew up. Sure, I wanted to do all of the "things" on my list, but really, it wasn't working out so well in the past. I was lost. So, that day I threw the towel in. I didn't care if everyone else in my class had goals written down. I was tired. Tired of chasing the impossibleness of "doing" all the time. I wanted to just be me. I suppose my soul sighed from relief and thanked me.

Trust me, my life isn't all unicorns farting rainbows. I still make lists of things to do. But, I've been able to just be....me. Messy, unorganized, imperfect, crazy, spazz girl me.

Summer Reading list for girls!

I have received several emails from friends of mine, asking for suggested reading. Some for themselves, and lately moms are contacting me asking for books that are for their daughters- books that give a positive moral message. They're tired of their daughters having "role models" thrust in their faces that are not worthy of looking up to. Reality stars, "glitterati girls", and girls that are famous for nothing more than bad behavior and attractiveness. A couple months ago I wrote about Katherine Switzer, an amazing woman who at 20 years old paved the way for women to be able to enter and run competitive marathons. That is a woman I would love for my daughter to aspire to be like, someone strong willed, who stood up for what she believed in, and didn't let anyone get in her way.

So, I've compiled a list of books for you with the help of Tanya Lee Stone. This list is for girls ages 9-12. The links are all to Amazon, but that's merely so you can see what the books are all about. I encourage you to go to your local library and get ALL of them! Oh, the library, remember that place? I had forgotten about it too, but have recently returned and wow- it's a pretty cool place!

So, here it is, in no particular order:


"Almost Astronauts: 13 Women Who Dared to Dream" by Tanya Lee Stone.

"Thank you, Sarah" by Laurie Halse Anderson

"Claudette Colvin: Twice Toward Justice" by Philip M. Hoose

"Elizabeth Leads the Way: Elizabeth Cady Staton and the Right to Vote" by Tanya Lee Stone

"Independent Dames: What You Never Knew About the Women and Girls of the American Revolution" by Laurie Halse Anderson

"Remember the Ladies: 100 Great American Women" by Cheryl Harness

"Lives of Extraordinary Women: Rulers, Rebels, and what the Neighbors Thought" by Kathleen Krull

"Girls Think of Everything: Stories of Ingenious Inventions by Women" by Catherine Thimmesh

"33 Things Every Girl Should Know about Women's History" by Tonya Bolden

I was attacked today.

Got your attention? Good.

I went to a self defense class this weekend. I've wanted to go for ages but, it was never on my priority list so I never went. I try to be aware of my surroundings, and have always thought that if someone messes with me I'm pretty sure I can hold my own. I mean, I'm in shape. I even have muscles! I've taken kickboxing classes and can throw an uppercut. Doesn't all that Tai-bo count for something?  But, when Chelsea King was raped and murdered in my home town, I knew I had no more excuses.

Let me tell you something. In the real world, my attitude, plus the fact that I can curl a 25 pound dumbell with my bicep isn't going to get me out of a chokehold by a 200 pound man. I had a very humbling experience in the class. The instructor, Tracie Arlington, talked to us about elbows, and how as women, we're told that just throwing an elbow around is defense enough. Then Chad, her assistant asked if anyone wanted to try that technique on him. He had no pads on yet and I thought, "Is he serious? I know I can get at least one strike in with an elbow." In the class of about 25 girls and women no one volunteered. So, I blurt out, "I'll do it!" and met him in the middle of the mat. I mean, c'mon, I'm tough! I'm fiesty! I've got SPIRIT!

I had no idea what was coming (as you really wouldn't, if you were attacked in real life). Chad grabbed me so quickly I have no idea how he got me into a choke hold, but he did. My first thought was how tight he had a hold of my neck, my next thought was the feeling of complete helplessness I had. I threw an elbow to his gut. Nothing. I threw another one. Nothing. I got as much strength as I could muster up and threw a few more. Nothing. At that point, I was exhausted from squirming, being angry and frustrated and from using all my energy to throw feeble elbows.

The point of my story is that learning specific techniques is imperative.  Here are some startling statistics:

• 83% of rape victims are between the ages of 12 years and 25 years of age.
• 90% of women assaulted knew their assailant.
• 25% of college women surveyed are victims of rape or attempted rape.
• 85% of rapes on campuses are acquaintance/date rapes and most happen in the first three months of college due to Fraternity and Sorority pledging and parties.
• 90% of all campus rapes involve alcohol.
• Women who resist are twice as likely to escape injury as others. According to the Women's Self Defense Institute, an analysis of 3,000 actual assaults showed that half of the attackers fled from a woman who was willing to resist! The key, however, is to learn how to effectively resist.

Even though we were in a class setting, where we know essentially we were safe, there is something very real about an actual person sitting on top of you with their hands at your throat, or holding your wrists down. In the back of my mind I thought there was no way I was going to be able to get out of the pinned down position while being choked, but guess what? I did. And now I feel much more confident just out in the world of the "unknown".

Love yourself. Love your life. I say that all the time. It's part of my job to help and empower people to do this. My blog title even proclaims it. Be proactive about your safety. It doesn't matter where you live, just google, "women's self defense" and find a class in your area. You owe it to yourself, your family and your confidence. Do it now and let me know that you did it. 

Statistics from the Play it Safe website.

The Gremlin, The Mannequin and Joan Jett

Warning: Strong language included in this post.

I may have mentioned in my previous posts about what we call in the coaching world as our “saboteur”. AKA "the gremlin". It’s that little (or sometimes not so little) voice in our head that we all have, some more than others. It tells us mean things, negative talk, tells us we can’t do something, that we look stupid, that we’re fat, ugly, etc. Everyone’s is unique. Some people believe theirs more that others. Some people have learned how to squash theirs. But, it’s been my experience, that it never quite goes away and that it evolves, just like we do. It gets smarter, and sneakier too as time goes on.

I’ve started this post a few times, and have never finished or posted about my saboteur. It was a homework assignment from my coach about a year ago; one that I never completed (See, even coaches are bad clients sometimes). I think back then I was afraid to rip the band aid off and show everyone my saboteur. Well, enough hiding, here she is:

My sabotuer is a vicious bitch to me. In my mind she looks like a manequin would, perfect hair, skin, and make up, perfectly thin with no flaws. On display. She is also empty inside. She tells me my world will fall apart at any moment, and to brace myself for it. She wears a smug expression. She tells me I need to be thinner, stronger, younger, in better shape, a better mother, a better wife, a better friend, a better everything. And never, ever, let them see you cry. She used to tell me I'm not good at anything, so why try?





I.
Fucking.
Hate.
Her.

The absolute complete opposite of her, and what in my mind kicks her ass is my alter ego: Joan Jett. She doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks of her, doesn’t give a damn about her bad reputation, is exactly who she is and certainly makes no apologies for it. She is a serious ass-kickin' rocker.

In many ways I'm a lot like her, but my gremlin says, "That's not pretty, not lady-like, it's too loud and-your-reputation-IS-so-important-if-it-were-flawed-WE-WOULD-DIE!!!"

Metaphorically speaking, the mean-bitch mannequin lady and Joan Jett have roller derby races. They race, they bump into each other, tell each other to fuck off, sometimes they crash and get it into a knock down cat fight. They go around and around the track, going nowhere.

Do you think I'm totally crazy yet? Okay, good.

But, sometimes they slow down and skate together quietly. Because I am not either of them. I am not perfect at parenting, working out, or anything for that matter. And I don't need to be hard-as-nails tough like Joan Jett either. I can be in the middle. In the grey. My gremlin, the mannequin lady is addicted to suffering. No matter how pretty she presents herself to me, no matter how convincing she is, I still need to remember SHE IS NOT ALLOWED TO LIVE MY LIFE. So, I take my skates back.

And skate away from her to take control of my own life.

So, who is your gremlin, your saboteur? What does he/she say to you? How do you decipher between that voice and your true voice, your true being? 

J Lo tells us the reason we should all get our pre-baby body back...

Recently, Jennifer Lopez was interviewed for  US magazine. Not the most intriguing of magazines, I know, but they do have (what I am assuming is) hundreds of thousands of subscribers, and many, many more pick it up while waiting in line at the grocery store. The cover screams, "MY BEST BODY EVER" and provides us with an eyeful of the celebrity looking happy and sultry. A look all of us mothers are apparently dying to achieve. (Insert eye roll). The article quotes Lopez as saying,"You get to the point where you're like, Where am I? What happened to me? I got to get myself together for my kids, you know? They need to know what I really look like."

Don't get me wrong; I love me some J Lo. Many times I've been running, listening to her music, shaking my butt, trying to tap into my inner Latina. But, Jesus H. Christ. "They need to know what I really look like" ?? What she really looks like? I can guarantee, that what she really looks like is not some perfectly lit, posed, professionally make-up'd, airbrushed and photoshopped celebrity. And what kind of message does this send to her children and to other mothers? Call me completely bananas-gone-crazy, but this is the message it sends to me as a mother: 

Mamas: If you've got a little or a lot of belly fat, perhaps some pesky cellulite on your thighs,

 some sag on your butt cheeks after having those babies, don't you think it's about time you show 

your kids what you looked like BEFORE you had them? So what if it's been several years and you're

 not 20 anymore. Do it for your KIDS! Get yourself together for your them. 

Clearly, I jest, and who really takes J Lo seriously anymore. But, this is nothing new. We see it and hear it daily. The "How I got my body back after baby" article is a pretty constant bombardment to us mothers. So how do we ignore it? How in the world do we squash just deal with the body image pressures after having babies? 

There are many things a woman can do about it, and it really depends on the severity of her issues. I will say a couple of things. First of all, remember this: When you decide to have a baby, your life will change permanently. Forever. For the rest of your natural life. So, count on the fact that it's pretty likely that your body will change too. For-ev-er. Am I happy about the fact that my body is different now after having 2 babies? No. By no means do I give myself a wink and a thumbs up in the mirror when my eyes fall on a part of my body that is different than it used to be. But, I'm learning to live with it. Sometimes I just sigh and have to say, "It is, what it is", then go chase my toddler or nurse my daughter (which by the way I'll take my not-so-perky-anymore breasts as a trade off for breastfeeding both of my children). Just try to keep it in perspective. We chose to have the attitudes we have about certain things. Body image is no different. We can choose to be in a place of "Oh-my-god-I-need-to-get-my-body-back-or-else-(insert worst possible fate)" or we can choose to just accept it for what it is.

Your kids don't care if you have some belly fat. They don't care if you have some cellulite. But, they do care (and listen) about how you think and talk about your body. I vowed to do my best to heal my body image issues and to not pass them on to my children, especially my daughter. I do the best I can. Sometimes I feel like that clown at the circus who spins plates on both hands, one foot, his head and his nose. Some fall off, sometimes he looks silly, but, hey, at least he's trying, right? We have a lot to deal with as mothers. Let's not beat ourselves up by comparing our bodies now to what they looked like before we had babies.

Thanks anyway, J Lo. Please don't comment anymore about that. Just keep making great movies making music that we can shake our butts to. 

What being a girl means to me

I have been called a lot of things in my life. Off the top of my head they are: sassy, agressive, obnoxious, loud mouthed, too-smart-for-your-own-good, fiesty, tough and bitch. As I was growing up and trying to find my place in this mad world, being called these things was somewhat devastating. As girls, we are taught and encouraged to NOT be any of these things. That embracing the qualities of femininity is the right thing to do. Soft, quiet, emotional, to be seen and not heard. As a young woman it was all very confusing. I learned very quickly that I could get away with things just for being female, but it really wasn't all that it was cracked up to be.


I remember being in high school and having firm beliefs about certain things. Sadly, most of the time I didn't speak up because I didn't know how to articulate things perfectly and back then I thought everything needed to be perfect, so I shut up. Well, maybe not that I shut up, mostly just channeled my high-strung energy in the wrong direction. But, where I'm going with this is that I can remember always being "shushed". I felt more important if I sat back and was just pretty. Like a Christmas ornament. But when I finally learned to embrace all of those things, to not be ashamed for wanting to speak up, the flood gates opened and I could. Not. Be. Shut. Up.


I get my outspokenness from my mother. However, she looks at it as sticking her foot in her mouth. I believe in her generation, her view of feminism was what was seen on TV or heard about from adults conversations. Bra burning, man hating, hairy arm pitted ladies. Being outspoken was not something that was attractive. Even now, I see her hesitate when she wants to speak her mind. My mom was married at 17 and the mother of 2 by age 20. She is one of the strongest, most powerful women I know. But still, I believe she looks at speaking your mind as a masculine trait, one that is not seen as "right" in others eyes.


I recently watched a moving speech from one of my heros, Eve Ensler. She states:

...the verb that's been enforced on girls, is the verb "to please". Girls are trained to please. I want to change the verb. I want us all to change the verb. I want the verb to be educate. Or activate. Or engage, or confront, or defy. Or create. If we teach girls to change the verb, we will actually enforce the girl inside us, and the girl inside them. 

If I am lucky enough to have you read my blog, even if it's just this post, I want to tell you this: If you have a daughter, or a niece, a sister, mother, aunt, any girl or woman in your life, it is imperative that we teach them to speak up. Teach them to be proud of what they believe in, teach them the power of education, the power that they hold, just by being female. Being female is no better than being male, but it's not our JOB to please everyone. Some things may come out of your mouth that are less than perfect, but don't run and hide under the covers. Vulnerability, honesty, love, compassion, empathy...all of those are beautiful and strong. Yes, strong. 


So don't "shush" girls, and if you see one being "shushed", say something. And if you are a girl or woman reading this, trust me when I tell you again it's not your JOB to please everyone. It's a part of life to piss people off, have people disagree with you and yes, sometimes, someone may not like you (gasp!). It's okay. Speak your mind. It's well worth the effort. 


Photo courtesy of natashalcd

100 things I am grateful for

I'm a huge fan of the list of 100. In a previous post I challenged my readers to make a list of 100 things they love about themselves. Today, I was on a walk in this beautiful weather, pushing my 2 beautiful children in the stroller. I was overwhelmed with how blessed my life is and it always seems to get better the more grateful I am for what I have. So, I thought I would share with you my list of 100. And I challenge you to do the same. Having repeats is okay. It shows patterns of what is really important to you.

I'm grateful for:

1. My husband. He has integrity, is loving, patient and is a kind soul. I hit the jackpot.
2. My mom taking me to church when I was little. It shaped my faith.
3. Legs that work. Because I love to run.
4. My husband's secure job.
5. Health insurance.
6. My healthy teeth.
7. Running water. Bathing and brushing my teeth are good things.
8. My dads sobriety. I'm so proud of him.
9. Being able to stay home with my kids.
10. Being recovered from disordered eating and exercise.
11. Knowing my purpose on this earth.
12. My son's birth. I knew he was safe when I had to have him via cesarean section.
13. My daughters birth. Having her vaginally was a magical experience. Yes, I just said "vaginally".
14. My ex husband cheating on me. It made me find my self esteem.
15. My first marriage. I learned so many things about myself and relationships.
16. My relationship with a drug addict. I learned to say goodbye to codependency.
17. Living in San Diego, the most beautiful city in the world. (In my humble opinion).
18. Santa Claus.
19. Having reliable transportation.
20. Date night with my husband. The conversation always inspires me.
21. Music. I am so moved by music.
22. Exercising. It's so worth it.
23. Dancing.
24. Having the guts to stand up for what I believe in.
25. Being literate. Thank you mom, dad and teachers for teaching me to read.
26. Razors. Because I don't like it when my armpits are hairy.
27. Brownies, chocolate chip cookies and cake.
28. Being able to breast feed my children.
29. The clothes in my closet. Sometimes I think I have nothing to wear. I have plenty.
30. My degree in fashion merchandising. It made me realize I wasn't meant to work in the industry.
31. Girl Scouts. I learned so many things and it shaped me today.
32. My daughters toothless grin.
33. The Internet.
34. My dad teaching me the importance of a firm handshake.
35. My parents ability to afford braces for me.
36. Lactation consultants and doulas.
37. My right to free speech.
38. My dad teaching me how to play tennis.
39. Feminists that fight for women's rights
40. Shoes. Like the clothes, I have plenty.
41. The heater in our house.
42. Our home. Sometimes I wish I had more counter space, but we have enough.
43. Volunteering for the Special Olympics.
44. Online support groups. When I was pregnant with my daughter and wanting a VBAC, the ladies on that support group were immensely helpful.
45. Hand-me-downs for my kids.
46. Laundry detergent.
47. Recycling.
48. Facebook. I've reunited with so many important people that I'd lost touch with. And met new ones.
49. The beach.
50. My sense of humor.
51. My fertility. I am so, so grateful to be able to have babies when I wanted them.
52. My physical health.
53. My mental health and stability.
54. Living in a hygienic environment. Sounds strange, but a lot of people don't have this.
55. Modern medicine.
56. God in my life.
57. Entertainment options. I should never be bored.
58. Coffee.
59. Believing in the importance of personal growth and development.
60. The people who will be my clients this year while I go through CTI certification. I don't know who they are yet :)
61. People that read and comment on my blog. It helps to keep me motivated to keep writing.
62. Seatbelts.
63. All the jobs I have had. I've learned so much.
64. My values and core beliefs. Knowing them means I can honor them.
65. Being able to be a stay-at-home-mom.
66. Getting to snuggle with both babies in bed in the morning, watching Sesame Street.
67. Having reliable transportation.
68. Having a fridge and cupboards full of food.
69. Parks.
70. This crummy economy. It's made me realize how much we have.
71. Connecting with incredible people. Human contact.
72. My Beco baby carrier. My daughter practically lives in it.
73. Not having to take medication anymore for anxiety disorder.
74. My therapist.
75. My sister.
76. Pets. Even though we don't have one right now.
77. The fact that I chose my own happiness.
78. Eating dinner as a family.
79. Service to others. Giving back.
80. A comfortable, warm bed.
81. Clean underwear.
82. Being brave enough to stand up against "the bad guys".
83. Having a choice.
84. My education. Eternally grateful for that.
85. Student loans. They suck sometimes, but without them, I couldn't have gone to college.
86. Being in a functional, loving, drama-free,mutually respectful relationship.
87. Bubble baths.
88. My self esteem.
89. Classic 1970's rock.
90. Admitting I'm far from perfect, but doing the best I can.
91. Learning to be myself with ease.
92. Laughter.
93. My family's good health.
94. Access to fresh fruits and vegetables.
95. The ability to dream.
96. The right to vote.
97. Forgiveness.
98. That my life didn't turn out as I expected it to.
99. The fact that I was born in this amazing free country.
100. My life.

Photo courtesy of Malu Green

Hiding behind the notion of control

I’ve recently done some thinking about control. In my “old life” I was a complete control freak. Before my wedding to my first husband I even controlled everything about my bridal shower. I was so picky about the decorations I went out and bought them myself. I wanted everyone to wear pink and only pink. And the wedding itself was even worse with all the details that I was obsessed with.

In the last 10 years or so that I have known someone or known of someone with an eating disorder, I have always thought it was about control. I would think about the persons life and see something going wrong- a dysfunctional relationship, perfectionistic traits or just plain unhappiness. It made perfect sense that someone with disordered eating (weather it be calorie restriction, purging or binge eating) and/or exercise was really the persons way of controlling something in their life. And in this case it was the food they put in their mouth and their weight. For me, I don't think it was something I ever analyzed when it was happening, but it started out as something I thought I could control. I controlled what and when I ate and how much (that was the most important part). I controlled how much I exercised, therefore I controlled how I looked. Unbeknownst to me, my disordered eating and exercise took control of me. Very, very quickly.

I was having a conversation with a friend of mine, Kendra Sebelius and I asked her what she thought of this, having experience in recovery herself. I asked her if she thought that people with disordered eating that tell themselves and others that their issues with food and exercise are their own way of being in control is actually bullshit. I thought it was and wondered if she agreed. She had been doing some reading about this particular topic and told me, "if you have to control something, it is out of control". And I totally agree. She went on to say,

If they [people with disordered eating] only could control the other people in our life, control external stress, control work, control life - THEN our life would be "perfect"... it's once you say you are powerless - over people, things, situations, that is when you recover. The illusion of control is false in all aspects of addictions, and it is often misplaced on external issues versus internal strife. I don't think it ever controlled anything for us - it always controlled us. It became a coping skill to CONTROL the outside things affecting us. A very self centered approach, in my opinion. We care only about ourselves, this illusion of control - thinking if things are in control will mean we are OK. We can not control an eating disorder, just as people can't control drinking - the whys are bullshit. We could be addicts, impulsive by nature, come from shitty pasts etc. It is an illusion - a big fat smokescreen. it becomes the red herring - a way to AVOID the actual issues. A way to place blame & make excuses.

For me, it wasn't until I was well into recovery (in many aspects of my life) that I realized that saying my disordered eating was something I had control of was total BS. The outcome that I wanted- perfection, thinness, beauty, the illusion that I was strong- was all something that controlled me. It had a grip over me that was suffocating and it lied to me. The feeling of power that I had when I could restrict my eating and the feeling of superiority of watching my body change was enormous, but both of those things were very temporary feelings that I constantly had to think about and work for. I've also come to realize the control was something I thought I had over others. My ex would make comments about the way I ate (not how much I ate, just that I should eat healthier), so I would binge just to spite him. Many times he would never even know. It was my way of hating him. The illusion that I had control of my life because I could control my eating and exercise then led me to believe that if I let that go, everything else would fall apart. It would be like falling down a ski slope with no hope of stopping. And there was no way I was going to let that happen.

Years later, through many experiences, therapy and other ways of healing, I have come to know that real life is monumentally better than a life that I thought I had to control. When making plans for my baby shower my mom kept asking me what I wanted at the shower. A theme, colors, etc. I told her I didn't care, that whatever she thought was fine and I would be happy. I said, "Mom, I'm not 'that girl' anymore." She half-jokingly replied, "Thank GOD!". We both got a laugh out of that.

If you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder, please get help. NEDA can help.


Photo courtesy of Esther_G

Baggage

In early 1994 I sat in a therapists office for the first time. I don't remember how my parents talked me into going, but there I was, 18 years old, a couple of months after I found out my parents were officially getting divorced. I was stone faced, arms crossed over my chest. The therapist was very nice, drinking her tea and her first question was, "Do you know why you're here?" I can't remember how I responded exactly...but casually told her I came because my parents wanted me to and that they wanted to make sure I was "okay". I spent the rest of the hour telling her, "I'm fine", "It doesn't bother me", and "I'm totally okay with it". And I clearly remember never, ever shedding a single tear. I was tough. I was strong. And no one would think otherwise. I had a few more unproductive sessions with her and the only thing I remember (and was very proud of) was that I never cried once. 

The only person that saw any of my inner turmoil about it was my then-boyfriend who later became my husband (then became my ex-husband). He was 19 at the time and did not sign up to be the one to take all of my messiness on. I told no one but him. I guess at the time he was the only one I trusted to still love me even though I was such a mess. I expected so much from him and at 19 years old, he gave me as much as he could, which wasn't a whole lot. And when he didn't provide for me what I needed, I was wrecked. I had no coping skills. I would rather die than have the world see me fall apart, so I stuffed it all away and told everyone "I'm fine". 

Now I know why they call it "baggage". 

I carried that shit around for years. Taking it out on my boyfriend who encouraged me to talk to someone, anyone (besides him) about it all. But instead, I stuffed my bags as full as they would go and carried it around until I was too tired and too weak. Finally, one day I snapped and it all came crashing down in my doctors office in 2003. 

During those teenage years I had no idea what perfectionism was, that I struggled with it or that it was even a bad thing. In my mind I thought if it all looked great on the outside then it had to be okay on the inside, right? I mean, everyone else had it all together, so it was imperative that I did too, whatever the cost. I was disgusted at weak people and thought people that had hang-ups really needed to get over it, and themselves and simply move on. Seriously, I thought that. And now, today I see people that think that way and my heart goes out to them, only because I know they are struggling with their own baggage, their bags are spilling over and they are getting tired. I wonder how much more they can take. How many more times they can roll their eyes at people that have struggles and difficulties and that are simply just human. 

Through my own experiences I've learned that it's okay to ask for help. To say that you're overwhelmed, hurt, afraid or confused. Or tired and need a break. Or whatever. No one is perfect and feels nothing. Transparency is beautiful. It doesn't make you weak or a baby. I don't apologize anymore for it. And my baggage is unpacked. 

Photo courtesy of Noel Zia Lee

Redefining Beauty

I was a guest blogger for a friend of mine on his fantastic site, "It Starts With Us". Please check it out here. 

Feel free to comment on his blog and thanks for reading! 

What would you do?

Last week I received an email from a dear friend of mine, Heather. Heather is a laid back, fun, smart and active mom of two little boys. I was a little surprised by the franticness of her email. She gave me permission to share it with you: 

"Andrea: sign me up for volunteering for one of your workshops. Today at the mall (not my fave place) there was a 12-ish year old girl shopping w/ her mother for a swimsuit. She looked like she was in puberty where body was changing and she was a little overweight. However, she was adorable and beautiful. I could hear her mother pushing suits for her to try on. A bit later, I was in the dressing room and I heard someone crying quietly. Her dress was on the floor so I knew it was her. She was crying b/c she didn't like any suits and didn't want to try any one. Her mother asked "What are you going to wear to swim in tomorrow?" And through her tears she said, "I just won't go." I lost it. I was so sad for her...and I really wanted to say something but I didn't. And now I am bummed. I wanted to tell her how adorable she was or maybe let her mom know they could find cute boardshorts rather than a bikini...and I didn't! I wasn't sure if the mom would tell me to buzz off or if I would have made the girl feel worse. ARGGgghhh....I got in my car and called Dan crying and he thought I got jumped or something. But it was so sad and I appreciated your mission before but now that I saw it in action I think you are a super dooper rock star. Anyway, I had to tell you...what do you think I should have done? Does your training give advice on that type of situation????"

I'm posting this for 2 reasons: First, to share with you how common this is. To me, it is unacceptable that a little girl feels so uncomfortable with her body that she doesn't want to go swimming with her friends to what I am assuming is a pool party. And secondly, to ask you to comment with what you would have done in this situation. I told Heather I really didn't have an answer. I would have wanted to tell this little girl I thought she was adorable too. But it's such fine line when we tell strangers things of this nature. Can we possibly undo with one nice comment what year of teasing, media influences and whatever else this girl has seen has done to her self esteem? 

I would love to hear your comments! What do you think, and/or what would you do?  

3 Steps to a Healthy Relationship

I was a guest blogger again on the very cool website, Girl, Get Stong! You can read the article here.

Stop by and leave a comment!

Operation Beautiful

I'm dedicating this blog post to anther blog that I found, written by a 25 year old woman named Caitlin Boyle living in Orlando, Florida. She has two blogs, one where she chronicles her fitness and nutrition lifestyle and the other one which she calls, Operation Beautiful is what I'll be explaining. Caitlin's mission is the following:

One of my biggest personal crusades is ending Fat Talk. If my little blog only does one productive thing, I hope it helps readers realize how truly toxic fat talk is — it hurts you emotionally, spiritually, and physically. I want to reach as many people as possible with my End the Fat Talk message.

I encourage you to watch the video in the above link, or here: 



Caitlin's project is simple: spreading the word of making people feel good about themselves with just a pen and paper. She encourages others to write notes, usually on post-it notes, anywhere someone may see it. The most common places are bathroom mirrors, gym locker rooms and on the covers of women's magazines. Check out her blog to see some great examples of people in action. 

So this morning I had to go out to Walmart to get a gift for my friends twins for their birthday. I threw my post-its in my purse and made my way to the magazine aisle. It didn't take long for me to find a magazine that would make any average woman feel badly about herself. It was Abs Magazine (which by the way, there is really a magazine dedicated to abdominals? Having a fitness background myself, I know that abs are for holding yourself upright, supporting your back and they help in childbirth. That's it. Is it completely necessary for us to HAVE to have flat, six-pack abs just for that? Sorry, I digress...). Here is my post it: 

This magazine promised to give us flat, sexy abs in 6 minutes, shrink our bellies, and talks about liposuction. Oh, thank you, Abs Magazine! An answer to my prayers! So my note reads, "You're beautiful...just the way you are!" I hope someone reads it, smiles and feels good about herself instead of looking at the headlines and the photoshopped model on the cover and feels like crap. I intend to post many, many notes! 

I encourage you all to spread this simple, yet powerful task. You may be surprised how it ends up making you feel better about YOURself too. Make sure you have your camera ready and send the picture to Caitlin so she can post it on her blog! 

My relationship with a drug addict

In my post about how I got over my divorce I talked about how I began dating too soon. I think that bit of advice deserves it's own post because of the catastrophic mistakes I make at choosing my dates when I made the decision to date right after my ex of 13 years and I split. If you read the whole post, I'll share what I learned at the end. 

At first I dated guys that were nice and normal, but in my crazy mind, I wasn't ready to date anyone normal just yet. I wasn't recovered (or sane for that matter) from my break up with my ex, so a few months later I walked away from the nice and normal guys and met someone just as crazy and codependent as I was. I believe in the Universal Law of Attraction, that what you put out into the universe is what you get back. So, in the mindset I was in right after I split from my ex husband, I attracted exactly what I felt, but of course at that time I didn't know it. 

I met Jack* online. He emailed me and at first I wasn't all that interested in meeting him, but he was persistent and I guess I was a sucker for persistence. I actually cancelled our first date (maybe the universe was already trying to warn me), but we ended up going out the following week. I don't know if it was the wine, the expensive restaurant or the lines he was feeding me, but I chalked it up to the best first date I had ever had. Not that I had had that many up until then, but I was drawn into his intensity.  

He told me he loved me within 2 weeks of us dating, although I didn't say it back for a while. He wanted to spend every second with me and I ate it all up. I spent 13 years chasing love from one man, and here was a man giving me all the love I ever wanted. I was enamored. 

Then Jack told me he had cancer. I was devastated. I decided to stay in the relationship even though he may be terminal. The months past and Jack lost more and more weight, I spent many sleepless nights nursing him back to health through vomiting, night sweats and physical agony. 

He quit his job and lost his health insurance. He was at odds with his family so he couldn't ask them for help. What was strange was that he had no friends except for the new friends he had met in his building. He said he had lost touch with them because they turned their backs on him. I never questioned it. 

He began relying on me more and more financially. He found out he could get his cancer medication in Mexico and since we were so close, we went down there almost every weekend. We went to the same pharmacy every time and I would wait outside. On two occasions he was so sick he asked me to make the trip alone. I didn't even need to talk to the men working at the pharmacy, they recognized me and gave me the medication. One time it went fine, the second time not so well. Jack had told me to meet a man that we always said hi to that worked at a bar and he would have it. I couldn't find him and it was getting dark. I asked another man if he knew where he was and he began approaching me, speaking Spanish. Suddenly I was surrounded by 5 or 6 men and alarms are going off my head saying, "GET OUT NOW!" so I ran all the way back to the border crossing. I called Jack to tell him what happened and he told me to go back, that I had to get his medication. I told him I don't have to do anything, and that my life was in danger. That was probably clue number 26 that something wasn't right. I ignored that one too. 

I started to get more and more suspicious about Jack. I spent one night in the ER with him and a doctor pulled me aside. He asked me if my boyfriend had a history of drug abuse; more specifically prescription pills such as Vicodin and Oxycontin. I felt so stupid at that moment. I knew what was happening and hated the person I had become.  I had been in complete denial all along. 

About a week later I confronted Jack about his addiction. He admitted to it all, admitted that he was severely addicted to both Vicodin and Oxycontin and said he would seek treatment on his own. I knew I wanted to end the relationship but needed to hand him over to his family. I still cared about him and did want to see him get better. I called his aunt whom I had never met. I told her about his addiction and she said the family knew but thought he was better since he had been with me. I told her I thought it had really gotten bad when he was diagnosed with cancer. She said to me, "Oh honey....he doesn't have cancer. And you're not the first girl he's lied to about that." 

I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet. I had my suspicions about his cancer, but I never thought someone could be so cold as to lie about something like that. The weight loss- drug addiction. The vomiting, night sweats, muscle pain- withdrawals.  All the trips to Mexico- Vicodin or Oxy. I got him on a plane to see his family, they had an intervention (I was there) and he went away to rehab. I went to see him during family week where he manipulated me more. He met another woman in rehab, fell "in love" with her and moved to Florida. In the end he ended up conning me out of almost $8,000 (which thankfully his mother paid me back) in about 9 months. 

My purpose for this blog post is two-fold; first to share how easy it is to make bad decisions in relationships during times when we are vulnerable. I hadn't healed from the first relationship I was hurt in, I hadn't even picked myself up off the ground yet so it's no surprise that I got hurt again. I didn't know who I was, what I needed or what I wanted. I didn't love myself yet either. I also have really beaten myself up about this. I kept telling myself I should have been smarter, been more careful and was very embarrassed about the whole thing. But I have learned to give myself a break. I learned a huge lesson from this. And if this had never happened, I probably would have never met my current husband. 

Secondly, I wanted to share part of my journal that I just found which I thought was interesting, because it shows my progress in becoming me again. The fog was clearing and I was finally starting to "get it". When he went away to rehab I wrote,  "He does not dictate my self worth or anything that has to do with who I am as a person. He chooses his own reality and makes his own decisions, not me. It’s not my job; it’s his for the rest of his life. Only I can dictate my own happiness and positive self esteem and I am happy about that. In the past, relying on others for it was unrealistic, unhealthy and fake. I make my own reality."

I wish I could go back in time and high-five myself for writing this and believing it. I was finally starting to understand that I had relied on other people (mostly men) to make me happy. I could almost hear Dr. Phil asking, "And how's that working for you?" Ummm, not so well. But it took that for me to figure it all out. 

Photo courtesy of John and Keturah

A little thing called Perfection

"Once you accept the fact that you're not perfect, then you develop some confidence" -Rosalynn Carter

A few weeks ago I wrote a post telling you what I was reading right now. I had just started reading "Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters" by Courtney E. Martin and at that time had just started it. Before getting too much into the book I assumed it was mostly about girls struggling with perfectionism that had suffered from eating disorders. But Martin goes deeper into the soul of these perfect girls and discusses that she is not necessarily talking about starving for food.

I was compelled to write this post to tell you how astounded I was when Martin described who this "perfect girl" really is. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when the words on the page described me almost 100 percent exactly. Did Courtney Martin secretly know me? I doubt it, but I think she knows this girl so well because she was one and knew so many that were. And so do I.

Here are some quotes from her book describing who these girls are that grew up being told "they could have everything", but heard "You have to be everything".

Yet these perfect girls still feel we could always lose five more pounds. We get into good colleges but are angry if we don't get into every college we applied to. We are the captains of the basketball teams, the soccer stars, the swimming state champs. We are the girls with anxiety disorders, filled appointment books, five-year plans.
We take ourselves very, very seriously. We are the peacemakers, the do-gooders, the givers, the savers. We are on time, overly prepared, well read and witty, intellectually curious, always moving.
We are living contradictions. We are socially conscious, and anti corporate, but we still shop at Gap and Banana Republic.
We are relentless, judgmental with ourselves, and forgiving to others.
We must get A's. We must make money. We must save the world. We must be thin. We must be beautiful. We are the anorexics, the bulimics, the overexercisers, the overeaters. We must be perfect. We must make it look effortless.
We grow hungrier and hungrier with no clue what we are hungry for. The holes inside us grow bigger and bigger.

I spent much of my 20's wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I had so much ambition, so much going for me, but couldn't figure out why my head was spinning out of control all the time. I was in all honesty, furious when I was diagnosed with Anxiety Disorder, thinking it was a flaw in my persona. I wanted to hit my therapist in the face for telling me, then my general practitioner for echoing her diagnosis. Medication helped and I got over it; the stigma and the disorder.

I'm still trying to figure out where it came from. My parents never put any unnecessary pressure on me like I had seen in other girls. Perhaps it was the validation for doing things well. I have some idea that it was for me, and I think many, just the personality we were born with. And perhaps the generation. I don't know for sure just yet.

As I embark on parenting, it's very important to me to not pass on any of these perfectionistic traits to my children. When I was pregnant with my son (he's almost 2 now) I stumbled across a book called "Freeing Our Families From Perfectionism". I flipped through it and came to a check list of personality traits common to people who suffer from perfectionism. Some of them are:

Overcommited

Competes fiercely

Always does last minute cramming

Fear of appearing stupid

Fear of being rejected

Fear of appearing incompetent

Ashamed of having fears

Discouraged easily

Guilty about letting others down

Constantly comparing his/herself to others

Frequent stress and anxiety

Again, I looked around because I thought someone had followed me and wrote a book about my life. I bought it and am working on being able to let it all go. It is possible. But if gone unrecognized (or ignored) it can be dangerous. If you think you may relate to any of this, I encourage you to read both books. Also, check out Dara Chadwick's blog posts "Re-defining Perfect" I can't tell you enough how much my life has changed by just recognizing this and learning to let it go.

Photo courtesy of thomashawk