I became the person I used to hate…

This past Monday (August 5) my blog turned one year old. It’s hard to believe it’s been a year, but when I look back and think about it, so much has happened. I started this blog with the intent to document my journey through weight loss. At some point, I realized it was more than weight loss. It was about me, and changing who I was on the inside and out. I felt like if I only talked about losing weight, I was doing myself a disservice.

I never thought I would have people who wanted to read my blog. “You should write a blog,” she said… She said it several months before I actually did it.

What has this done for me? Well first, I’m not done with it, I think this is something I will continue to do, as time allows. I learned that I really enjoy writing, and I want to thank those of you who have read every blog (and welcome those who have never read one). I know they can be long, but you have to remember, I do this for myself, and if I can help someone else along the way, then that makes me feel amazing. I want to be able to come back in five years and read these and remember this head space, good or bad. Some of these blogs have been incredibly raw and are just purely me. Thank you for allowing me to share with you all.

Today’s primary topic is about my obsession with a number. 209. 200. 199. They all have significance to me. Until a few months ago, I never owned a scale. I never really knew my weight unless I went to the doctor. It was a fun surprise to see -30 lbs from the previous year. When Matty and I started dating, I would weigh myself on his scale, just for fun to see where I was. I never thought it would get so far into my head that I would become one of those women I hated.

I didn’t realize I had become this way until the past few weeks. I knew it, but one day I stopped and looked at myself from Matt’s point of view, and he’s so laid back and accepting, he would never say this to me, but if I were in his position, hearing the things I would say, I wouldn’t have kept quiet. In the past, Bestie has told me, “Oh, I gained two pounds,” and every time she said it, it would grate on my nerves. I hated it (and I’m sorry if I’ve never told you this before now, there’s a point to this. I love you). I always told her she was ridiculous, but having been overweight, it’s like, “really? I’ll show you two pounds, it’s called my dinner.” My former best friend used to do the same thing, holding her stomach, talking about her “pooch” and she was like a size 10. I was just like, “bitch, please, I weigh 300 pounds. I’ll show you a pooch…” So those kinds of comments used to really bother me.

I bought a scale from Bed Bath, the store run by Satan himself. I intentionally never purchased one. In the store, I literally said to myself, if you buy this are you going to become obsessed? “No, never! I’m stronger than the scale.” -_- I don’t know how much time went by but I weighed myself every other day, then every day, then every time I went in the bathroom. I would stand on the scale and if i didn’t like the number and I would get off, reset it, and do it again. It actually became a compulsion. I would say things to Matt like, “I just have 8 more pounds to lose,” or “I’m up 3 pounds,” and he never really said anything… what is he going to say to that? He’s no dummy. He knows when fire is being thrown around by me and knows when to stay away from it. This never bothered me. I never said it with intent to start crap with him or to even have a conversation. Sometimes we just say what we’re thinking and I was thinking about that a lot. My weight was/ is hovering. Im not doing anything to lose the weight, (i never have and still lost) I would just watch it, all the time. When I realized it was actually affecting me mentally, I told Matt I needed to take my scale off my bathroom floor. Even after saying it (last week), I didn’t do it. I don’t know why.

Last night I was watching Extreme Weight Loss Makeover and the girl was 22 and more than 400 pounds. She lost 100 pounds in her first three months. She mentally wasn’t ready for that. I wouldn’t have been. In her second phase (months 4, 5 and 6) she developed bulimia. She talked about being obsessed with the number, she would get on the scale, it wasn’t what she wanted to see, and she obsessed over it. She was an over eater, even with healthy food, and she thought the way to lose the weight was purge. I have never been bulimic… I think it’s wasteful, I hate throwing up, (I know, weird, but true) and I’m stronger than that, the food doesn’t control me. I know some people aren’t as strong. I’m not judging anyone. When I saw what it did to her mentally, I got off the couch, went and picked up my scale, and put it in my coat closet. I knew it was unhealthy to feel how I was feeling, but she really showed me how extreme it can get. I’ll take it out when I think I can handle it. I know it can’t be in a convenient place, or I’ll continue the cycle.

School is almost here. I’m stressing about it. I told Matt today that I was really stressing about my major and basically after talking it out with him, I felt better about it. It’s too random to be random. It’s meant to be. I won a $1,000 scholarship so I can now pay a huge chunk for summer school. The ball is officially rolling at this point. I start August 21, so we’ll see how it goes.

Thanks for a wonderful year! Here’s to may more and to celebrate, some pictures!

Pretty self explanatory. Those pants were too tight. Before and after of those are coming.

Drinking games, The one on the left was July 4 weekend the summer Bestie came home and the one on the right was Saturday night.

My friend from ages ago, Matty. We used to work at the Depot together.

To be the best, you have to surround yourself with the best.

Recently I have been thinking about how it’s been a while since I’ve written a blog. I haven’t really had anything going on to write about, so I haven’t. The point of my blog isn’t to clutter the internet with my senseless thoughts, but to help myself and help others I know, or even don’t know. I also have a lot of stuff that has been going on that I don’t want to publicize. My mom had the idea to write it and make it private, which I should do, but I choose not to. I will write when I’m ready. Now, I have a few topics to discuss and it was pretty unexpected.

I’ve talked about it before, but I’m going to talk about it again, because I feel like it’s a really important part of making yourself a better person. Ridding the toxic people from your life. You can’t be healthy with your body full of chemicals. How can you be emotionally healthy when people are taking advantage of you, say hurtful things to you and you just let it go. Whether it happened in the past or it happened a half hour ago, it’s important to recognize how people actually treat you and how they make you feel about yourself. If you feel like you don’t deserve better than what you have, then you won’t achieve better.

Another topic will be my time frame for my weight loss. I was looking through old pictures and I realized it was only two and a half years ago that I started this journey. It seems like it’s been so much longer than that, but the dates on pictures don’t lie.It is shocking to me that I have lost almost 100 pounds in only two and a half years.I’ve lost friends along the way and made new ones, and some people are still here to witness the transformation.

Lastly some random tidbits about the gym and new exercise.

So when I was 18, I was in a rebellious stage and my parents didn’t know how to handle it. I ended up in counseling for several issues, and have since resolved them… thank God, because that was some time ago… it was time to straighten up. I realized that I had a bunch of friends and I wasn’t the best I could be when I was with them. I made bad decisions and I had the wrong attitude. Once I realized that my friends weren’t really friends and I was able to walk away from them, I ended up stronger and better for it. I made this decision on my own. My parents didn’t tell me, my counselor didn’t tell me and my real friends didn’t tell me. I realized that I had to do this to grow up. As I have gotten older, people have come into and out of my life. Some people several times, some only once. I remember speaking to Carey about it one day and there was an author that had a quote about friendships and how they have to change and evolve as time went on or else it was like listening to the same song for your entire life. Life evolves. It’s good to have new friends and lose the old ones. Sometimes it’s much more painful than you would ever realize. When I was ready, I walked away from the bad people in my life when I was 18. I knew I would find new people. Bestie mentioned to me recently, no matter what we’ve been through, we’re still in each others lives (I didn’t meet her for several more years). We’ve been through a lot, good and bad, and we’ve stuck it out. I told Matt recently that you never know how long you’re going to be friends with someone. I walked away from my longest best friend several years ago because I knew she was lying to me and she betrayed my trust, talking about me behind my back. This was incredibly painful for me to do, but I was wanting her to own something she wasn’t ready to own yet. You can’t make someone be something they aren’t. You don’t have to accept them, but you can’t keep fighting. The only thing I could do was walk away form an 11 year friendship. No one really thinks about walking away from their best friend, but when that friend isn’t being a friend to you, you have to make the decision about what’s best for YOU. When you find yourself asking, “why am I still friends with this person,” that’s a huge thing. My intuition was screaming the truth at me every day and I didn’t want to believe it. I asked that friend to be honest with me and I continued to hear lie after lie and I knew in my gut it was time to make a decision. Like I always say, if you don’t make a decision, a decision will be made for you. I was too hurt to let that person continue to treat me that way, when I know I would NEVER in a million years treat them that way. (I learned this from treating Bestie this way one time and I will never ever do it again, I am blessed she gave me a second chance). It was an absolute deal breaker and I had to let go. That was in August of 2009. I hadn’t been back in Columbus for a year and Bestie was about to deploy the next month. What was I doing walking away from my best friend? I was making myself a better life.

I was a mess. My best friend was going away to war and I walked away from my longest friendship. I couldn’t be friends with someone who was going to lie to me. I don’t remember what I did as far as socializing that year. I probably didn’t do anything. My friend was food… primarily mac n cheese and pasta. When Bestie came home in June 2010 I was a hot mess. Pushing 300 lbs. I realized that her battles hated me. I’m pretty sure everyone hated me. I know I hated myself and I was in a downward spiral. It was in December that I had all of my issues and had my blood transfusion. After that, when the scale was over 300 lbs, I knew I had to change something. My health was being affected by this. You all know how I did it, and here I am, two and a half years later.

Now, when I see my current friends who don’t surround themselves with the best, I see how it affects them mentally and emotionally. I have one friend who knows TONS of people. I have told this person, to me, I’d rather have a few really good, true friends, than a bunch of meaningless people in my life. This person has shared stories of their “friends” with me and I just think about how these “friends” treat my friend and I think about HOW toxic it is. I have seen this person’s attitude change when these “friends” come in and out of their life and it’s terrible to hear the things that the “friends” have said. Hurtful and mean, with the absolute intent to HURT my friend’s feelings. I don’t understand that. If you’re going to be mean and angry, that’s fine, but don’t bring someone else down to your level, so your misery can have some company. Go find yourself some other miserable people and have a pow wow, but don’t go out with the intent to make someone else miserable. That’s just cruel. This friend doesn’t see it this way. I don’t really understand how they see it but I will soon. It shows me that this person is okay with being mistreated and thinks it’s okay for someone else to treat them that way. BEYOND EFFED UP. You can’t be a better person when you constantly have people telling you that you’re not worth it or that you’re bad or mean or projecting themselves on you. That’s just wrong. The thing is, when this friend saw one of my friends treat me this way, they recognized that it was wrong and unacceptable. So how does this happen? Conditioning. This person is conditioned to think they aren’t worth anything. This is incredibly sad but when you surround yourself with toxicity, that is all you’re going to see and feel. How does one fix this? How do you shine the light on that person to have them see what you see? I remember thinking years ago, I wish I could see myself how other people see me. Eventually it happened, and it happens more now that I’m aware of everything. I can see myself in a different light, but I had to do it for myself. I had to want to be better. I had some help from bestie. She showed me the way of being healthier. She could only shine the light on it, I had to want to accept it and change it myself. Which I did. I’m sure it took a long time and it was difficult to watch me in the meantime, but I figured it all out. Now it’s my turn to pay it forward.

I just can’t say it enough, when you have toxic people in your life, they WILL hold you back from being better. The people around you have to want the best for you and help you achieve your goals by supporting you. I must figure this out, it’s just painful to watch someone you care an incredible amount about be mistreated and not even see it.

Lastly, I went to the stupid gym recently to help Matt get motivated. I don’t think it really worked, but I tried. I told him I didn’t want to go, but I would. I had cancelled my membership and I still had time until I was cut off. So I went and got on the elliptical. It was the first time in the gym since late April. Some how I knocked out a mile in like 10:39 or something ridiculous. I tell him how much I hate the gym and he says “find something new to do.” I still hate it. It’s good for winter, but I recently started “golfing” or actually hitting a ball around… It’s much more enjoyable that being suck on a hamster wheel in a concrete room. I will more than likely re-join the gym when the weather turns foul and I will want to do something to stay kind of active. My weight is back down to where I want it, almost -100 (again). It seems like I get so close then I blow it and gain like 7 pounds screwing everything up. I think my body just wants to be at this weight and likes it. I want to lose 14 more pounds to be at my first goal weight. 154 is my ultimate goal weight, but I’m in no hurry to get there, and if I never do…. that’s okay with me. I’m happy where I am and as soon as I hit 199, I’m sure I’ll stop caring, like I used to feel and it will continue to come off without me realizing. When I’m paying attention to it and obsessing over it is when I stop losing and start worrying.

Feel free to ask me questions or submit topics for writing!

Catch you on the flipside!

5k: It’s More Than a Distance

Last weekend I participated in my first 5k. Just writing that sentence makes me want to not write about this, but I feel like I have to. I feel the tears coming and I’m not even 30 seconds in. The whole experience was quite honestly not good for me and I hope I never have to go through that again. You’re probably asking what could have been so bad to make me feel like this.

Bestie suggested a few months ago that Matt and I run the 5k to help me get re-motivated to run. She knew I needed it and she knew that if he did it with me, I would do it. When I asked him to run the 5k with me, he decided to run the half marathon instead. This was crushing to me. He didn’t and still doesn’t understand the damage that was done by this. I have already discussed this with him and that’s the only reason I’m writing it here. It’s not passive aggressive, it’s not behind his back. They’re my feelings, on my blog and it goes into my first 5k experience. I don’t want to get into the details of what happened, but when I brought it to his attention that it hurt my feelings that he wasn’t running with me, he ended our relationship. It’s too long and complicated and it’s no one’s business, but it’s important to know that the relationship was ultimately terminated over the fact I confronted him about my feelings. It’s been very difficult for me since this happened, but I’m going to stay focused on the 5k. When he ended things, I instantly felt the feeling that I lost whatever support I may have had in him for this race. He kept saying he would train with me, but as I tried to explain to him, I needed him when I asked him to do the 5k, not after he decided to do his own thing, so I told him no. He kept offering, I kept saying no. This went on up until the day before the race when I finally told him, “It’s too late. I don’t need your help now. I needed your help when I asked to you do the 5k with me originally, but you wanted to do your own thing. It’s too late to try and help me.” I told him as I cried on the phone. I write this, sobbing, for whatever reason… probably because it’s so incredibly painful to know you needed help, and the one time you basically ask for it, there’s no one there. Bestie fractured her spine in a fall in January and is on strict orders from the doctor to not run or do vigorous exercise. I know a lot of runners, but I wanted Matt specifically.

The week before the race, I went to the gym a few times, but was dreading it. I couldn’t run like I had been planning. I needed help and support and just the little push on my back and I didn’t have it there, with me, so it was very difficult to get past a mile or a mile and a half at the gym. I didn’t want to be there, I didn’t want to do it, but I’m not a quitter. I knew I would do it come race day, because I had to, because I always do, but every day at the gym was a reminder that I was alone in this, just like every other hurtle in my life, I just do it alone. This killed me, and apparently still is. I’m hoping this blog allows me to release this pain I feel. I’ve cried every time I thought about the series of events leading up to the race. I’m not a cry baby, I don’t cry over anything and I’ve cried more in the last month than I have in many years. I felt stress to run the race, and felt like a failure because I didn’t train enough because I wasn’t motivated enough to do it. I had to let it go. I couldn’t carry that with me any longer. I saw a quote a couple days before that said, “no matter the distance, you’re lapping everyone on the couch.” I then started telling myself, as long as I finish with at least one person behind me, I’ll be okay. Once I realized this, I felt better.

The day before the race Bestie and I went downtown to get my number and goodie bag. It took longer to find parking than it did to actually get inside and get my number. I’m so glad she was with me. Not like I couldn’t do it by myself, but she was what I needed. My grandparents were visiting from California early this year and I had mentioned it to my mom that I would like for them to come to the race to be there to support me. She agreed and my grandparents were looking forward to it.

Race morning Bestie rode downtown with me and we were going to meet my family down there. Traffic was insane. I was nervous/ scared/ stressed about the whole thing. I just wanted it to be over with. I hadn’t talked to Matt since the evening before. I was tired of thinking and stressing over it. We parked under the State House and walked to a centralized location where I knew my family could find us. There were so many people, I mean just floods of people. This wasn’t surprising to me since I’ve been to a marathon before. It was really strange because Matt walked right in front of us. No one between us, close enough for me to say, not shout or yell, “there goes Matt,” and he heard me with no problem, maybe 8 feet from us. Out of 14,000 people, how is it that the one person I didn’t particularly want to see, walked literally right in front of me? As if the whole thing wasn’t enough as it was, I had to see him before the race. What was the purpose in that? Why did it happen? Everything happens for a reason, why did I see him? Motivation to do it alone? To add to my sadness? He was pumped. I just wanted to get it over with. He went on his merry way and my family finally made their way to us. I wasn’t excited to be there. We walked down the block to where the marathon was. I was too stressed and unhappy, the vibe didn’t have an impact on me until the runners started moving. Bestie stretched with me, Sweet Caroline played for Boston, then the national anthem. Then the half and quarter marathoners left. We decided that Bestie would go with me to the start line and my family would walk back up the hill to where the finish line was. We made our way to the start where there seemed to be almost no one compared to the packed street with the marathoners. I worked my way about half way up the pack so there were more people behind me. This was it. I was about to do my first race. Bestie took my picture and told me not to fall.

We were off. I had no idea where we were going, I just followed the front of the pack. The start of the race is pretty convoluted… people getting in the way, people running around other people, eventually we all spread out and had our own room. There were three women in front of me with red headbands on, super excited, dancing around. I passed them in the first half mile. There was a girl, maybe my age, in front of me and when I saw her in the first half mile, I was able to keep her pace. She was motivating me, always staying behind her for the most part. If I passed her in a burst of ambition, she always came back up. I lost her around a mile and a half and never saw her again. Just past a mile, we passed an old factory with a smoke stack and an art deco building, pretty cool. I had no clue what road we were on. Once we passed these, there were two girls with costumes on jumping up and down cheering us on. No one was anywhere on the route until I saw these girls and it’s amazing the feeling you get from that. At this point I was starting to wonder how far I was from mile two. We passed the water station where people turn into idiots, slowing down, blocking the path. Get out of my way.

Mile two came and went with some short hills. We were on a path right next to the river. It was cool and breezy, very comfortable. By this point I was starting to get tired and I stopped my intermittent jogging. I was still able to pass people. We came up the last little hill and downtown is on the left, a view you don’t typically see. I took some pictures, without stopping. Also the former Columbus Central High School, now a science museum. The sun was shining, the sky was blue. It was a perfect day. We came up another hill to make another turn and there’s a woman with a cape and a bullhorn. By this point, the girls with the red headbands on were right in front of me. I asked the woman with the bullhorn to tell me I wasn’t going to die. She said, “I promise you’ll cross the finish line.” I had texted Bestie and told her where I was to give her an idea on how much further I had to go. She told my my Grandpa was so cute and so proud of me. When I saw this message I felt myself getting emotional. I was wondering where mile three was… We were coming back into downtown, still passing people. I didn’t turn on my app that tracks my miles, it’s too distracting, I’d rather be surprised instead of thinking about how slowly I’m moving.

Mile three. Almost done. There was a lady right past mile three with black sunglasses on cheering us on and at that point I really started to feel myself fall apart. I waved and smiled at her and I thought, I really wanted help doing this, I wanted someone to cross the finish line with me, someone to celebrate with me and I was alone, no one to celebrate with, no one to push me harder than I was pushing myself.  There were still several people behind me (about 300 once I finished) and I was almost done. I came up to High Street and I saw the marathoners. The people with the long stride, finishing 13.1 miles in an amount of time I couldn’t believe and here I was struggling to finish my 3.1 miles. My family was waving at me. I knew exactly where they were. Everyone was taking pictures. I waved back and the guy standing next to Bestie had a dark beard and a huge smile on his face. I could tell he was excited to be next to them and he could feel their excitement.
I crossed the finish line at 49:47 (my official time was 49:23). I made my way through the maze of medics, people holding medals, photographers, runners, vendors, volunteers… I took a green bag. Bananas, apples, oranges, protein bars, water, Panera bagels… HUGE boxes of bagels… I walked up to a box and it had the French toast bagel… my favorite. I knew I had to eat something because I was melting down quickly. There were more booths, but I wanted to get out of there. I walked through the buildings, through the field with flutes of champagne, a band, more people, all while inhaling my bagel. I found my family and immediately wanted to fall into a ball on the ground. I had a bite of bagel in my mouth and all I thought was, don’t choke on the bagel if you start crying. I was really overwhelmed. I did it. I did it alone… well with 1100 of my new best friends… but I finished. I didn’t fall. I didn’t come in last. I didn’t die. I felt relieved. I was secretly very proud of myself. I was not overjoyed. I was not excited. I was overwhelmed.

My next 5k will be on my terms, when I’m ready. I was not ready for this. I was really focused on getting my school stuff figured out. I will do another one, probably with people who want to do it with me. I want to put this behind me and be done with it. I’m sure the pain will dull over time, but still, even after the whole process began more than 5 weeks ago, it’s agonizing.

Today’s Feelings: Who do you think you are?

Recently I have felt more judgment than I have felt in years. Please let it be known that no one’s opinion matters to me. Not my parents or my friends or strangers… no one. I am not looking for help making decisions in my life. If I want an opinion or if I want to discuss my choices with you, I will speak directly to you. Do not put your judgment out there on me because you don’t agree with what I’m doing. It’s my life. My decisions. My life is a conscious decision. Always. Everything. I don’t care what you think and your opinion will almost never influence me.

Where is this coming from? In the past week I purchased a Coach purse for $100 and decided to go back to school. We’ll start with the purse. I put a picture on Facebook and Instagram of the purse and the receipt and the price tag. I saved $198 on it and I was excited about it. One friend made a comment about how it’s only a bag and then asked, “Is it lined in gold??” No, in fact, it is lined in fabric and why does it matter. You chose to have a family. I choose not to right now. I am at a point in my life where I work. I earn my money and I can spend it on whatever I want to spend it on. If I choose to buy a pair of Manolo Blahnik shoes for $1,000 or a Coach bag for $100, that is my decision and I shouldn’t have to defend myself to anyone. I don’t have a mortgage; I don’t have children or a husband depending on me. I don’t have a car payment. I have money available to me every month to spend as I please and I do. It is no one’s business what I spend my money on.

Next, I have made the decision to return to college and get a degree. There has been a lot of judgment in this area from different people. First of all, the business world looks down their nose at you if you don’t have ANY degree. It doesn’t matter if it’s in basket weaving, for some reason, they assume because you spent money on a stupid piece of paper, it means you are more employable than someone who has years of experience. This is ridiculous and it really upset me. I thought, I would like to speak to someone who just graduated with a logistics degree at the ripe old age of 21 or 22, and have them tell me how long it takes a container to get from Yantian to Columbus, or even point to Yantian on a map. Tell me how much it costs. Tell me what all goes into importing or exporting. What’s important? What’s not important? What can’t you live without knowing in the industry? Who’s better, FedEx or UPS and why? There is so much I know that they don’t and I’m sure they know how to technically do it, but I can get it done faster and cheaper than a graduate. This doesn’t matter in the business world. I’m lucky I got in at the ground level with a successful small company who has willingly taught me everything I know. I’ll be able to continue working and begin school to continue to improve myself.

Making the decision to go back to school was pretty much instantaneous once I realized I won’t be who I’m supposed to be without a degree. A degree will not make me who I am, but it will provide more opportunities in my life, regardless of when. First thing I did was apply for financial aid. Then I thought… what am I going to actually do? This is the whole reason I never went back in the first place. Some background on me… I graduated from high school when I was 17. I had a 10 year plan at the age of 17. My high school was really into planning for college and making sure you knew what you were going to do, but they never said anything about a plan B… I took sign language through all four years of high school. It came very naturally to me and I did very well in it. My plan was to attend the local community college and get a degree in interpreting and go out and be an interpreter. On the third day of class the teacher (who was an interpreter) explained that you get a degree, then you usually work for an agency for 10-15 years before you are able to build your reputation enough to go freelance. Working for an agency is similar to being a substitute teacher. Some days you may not have work. I couldn’t do this. I needed to have a stable income out of school. It wasn’t in my work ethic to not have a job, it wasn’t an option. Part time with a college degree wasn’t appealing to me. Once I realized all of this, I knew immediately I didn’t want to go into interpreting. I now see it was more of a hobby, not a life path, even if I thought that at the time. So I left school after that quarter and I began working. Why was I going to waste my time and money going to school for what? I worked several part time jobs for almost a year and I got a job at Home Depot and I was there for almost three years. I then went to work for a Home Depot installer, relocated for a new job when the business closed and I’ve been where I am now for almost 4.5 years after coming back to Columbus. I am an EDI, logistics, and compliance coordinator for a novelty children’s toy company. I really enjoy what I do but there’s a larger purpose for me.

I thought, I have two options, I can get a degree in what I know (logistics) or I can get a degree in what I want (unknown). The idea of having a degree in logistics was not appealing to me at all. Knowing that, I thought, I have to find a school, then a major, and then work my way backwards to the same community college from 10 years ago. After reviewing all of the schools in Ohio, I came back to Ohio State. They would have everything I wanted and they’re close by. I reviewed the majors available and narrowed it down to Linguistics, Philosophy, Psychology, Sociology, Journalism, and Operations Management. After looking at Columbus State, I saw they have a program that ties the schools together. Upon completion of an Associate’s Degree at Columbus State, you are automatically accepted into Ohio State for the major associated with the degree you received already. They have curriculum all figured out for probably 30 majors. This was very important to me, being able to automatically be accepted to Ohio State. I didn’t want to have to worry about who would accept me as an adult… so Ohio State was decided. I then looked into the majors a little more and finally decided on Philosophy and Linguistics. My goal is to double major for the Associate’s Degree, and then get a Bachelor’s in whichever I enjoy more, but I’m really leaning to Philosophy. This is what I decided.

I had dinner with my dad a few days later and if anyone was going to try to talk me out of or into something, it would be him. I was prepared for him to tell me something like, “why don’t you get back into sign language? You were so good at it,” or “why not business management?” He did pull the sign language card and I told him no (basically). Then he said, “so what you’re saying is, this is your decision? Oh, okay.” Once he realized I wasn’t asking for his opinion, or approval (which was early in the conversation), he was very supportive. I called my former boss to discuss it because I knew he would know if the majors I chose would be compatible with my personality and work style and what not. He said they’re both great choices and was also very supportive. Everyone has been great. I think Matt is my biggest cheerleader through all of this, even though we’re not together any more. I have also been judged for this. Judged for continuing to talk to him and be friends with him. My life, my decisions.

Last night I had a “conversation” with a friend that really upset me. She asked me, “why philosophy?” I haven’t talked to her in at least a week and before that it was some time. I immediately felt defensive and I felt as if I was being questioned. I replied, “Why not? It’s male dominated and I think I will be good at it.” She didn’t respond for a while and then asked if I planned on teaching it. I don’t know. Why are you questioning me, why is it any of your concern? This is what I wanted to say, but I didn’t want to start a fight and I said I didn’t know. I have considered teaching in the past but when you think about teaching, typically you forget the collegiate level. If I’m going to teach, it will be college. She pressed on that some of her friends from college weren’t very fortunate with their philosophy degrees. I just felt myself getting more and more upset, angry and hurt. I wanted so badly to say, “no one asked you, STFU! You don’t use your degree for your job!” But again, I was trying to be nice. I told her I wasn’t her friends from school and I’m not going to her school and I am 28 years old and I don’t feel like I should have to defend my decisions to one of my best friends. I told her I know she was trying to protect me but I know what I’m deciding to do and she hurt my feelings. I get a response, “sorry you feel that way… philosophy is seen as a fluff degree and not applicable in modern business… you can dish out hard love but you sure can’t take it?” At this point I lost it. I started crying because after telling someone, who is for whatever reason such a good friend, she hurt my feelings, she throws this in my face. I told her this wasn’t tough love because no one asked for her opinion. If I had asked her or come to her for a solution or something like that, it would be totally different, but she felt it was best for me to give me her unsolicited opinion, as if I cared, or it mattered. I told her AGAIN how my feelings were really hurt. She continued on that it’s a conversation she’d have with any family member and she does support me but she urges me to think about what I want to do in my life. This is infuriating to me. I’m not 18 and your kid, undecided about school. I’m almost 28. I know what I’m doing and you’re going to say this sh!t to me? No way. I didn’t even respond. There’s nothing I can say to get her to understand how and why she hurt my feelings. To be questioned by a friend, someone who is supposed to support you no matter what (within reason), and be put on the spot like that… who do you think you are? What makes you think you have the right to say that stuff to me? The opinion in itself is a moot point, I don’t even care. It’s the fact this person felt like she had the right to say what she did. If she told me she was going to get a degree in dog catching, even if I thought it was a terrible idea, or knew she would hate it, or that it’s useless, there is no way I would tell her any of that unless I was asked directly about it. There is no way in hell I would send her a message and question her decisions. “WHAT?! Why would you get pregnant? Why would you want a new job? What do you mean you’re buying a house!?” Never. It’s unacceptable no matter how wrong I may think it is for her, it’s HER life, not mine.

I told my former boss when I spoke with him the I’ve felt more judgment now than ever in my life and he understood what I meant. He told me that it’s been fun to watch me grow up and become the person I am today. I know a few people that have said that type of thing to me, my boss’ mom is another. They notice a difference in me and who I am. I see it in myself. I can look back at how I was and see how far I’ve come. Nothing is going to stand in my way in this next chapter. Does it scare me? Hell yeah it scares the crap out of me. I’m terrified of falling into old habits, but I have to commit to new habits. We’ll see where it goes from here.

If you have anything negative to say about my choices, you can cram it because you’re just going to waste your time.

Unexpected Struggles

This past week I have noticed that I have been having some serious issues with controlling my cravings for bad foods. I spent a good ten minutes of a lunch hour one day standing in front of the pizza rolls and bagel pizzas debating and trying so hard to talk myself out of buying them. I wasn’t having a bad day or anything, but it was not easy for me. Why is it so difficult on some days? Totally unmotivated, wanting to do nothing, not go to the gym, eat poorly… all while acknowledging it. Having to find the inner strength to talk yourself out of it even though you REALLY don’t want to.

It goes back to my “anonymous addiction” blog and being addicted to the chemicals in the food. I didn’t really think this applied to me until Matt and I were on our way to Cleveland a couple weeks ago. I was what I call “hangry.” What is hangry? Hangry is when your blood sugar drops below a reasonable point and you become unruly, mean, irritable, anything bad you can think of… until you eat something. The worse the food, the happier you’ll be after you eat it. I was being really difficult with him in the car. I knew this. I don’t like being like that. I need to carry something with me so I don’t get like that… I tried nuts, Mom, they don’t even come close to cutting it. I think I need to find a protein bar or something… Anyway, at the gas station he asked me if I wanted anything and I told him either chocolate or something with a ton of calories. I had no idea what he was going to bring me. He came back to the car with Vitamin Water and beef jerky and a Reece’s Egg. Not one of the little ones, two to three bites. No, I mean this thing was the size of an ostrich egg. I’m not kidding. I took one bite and IMMEDIATELY my entire mood changed. I was good for the whole weekend. In that exact moment I saw that as a problem. I realized my body is trying to detox (I drink 100% juice smoothies every day and eat fairly well) so that fix of the candy was immediately satisfying. How do you detox without killing anyone in the meantime? Thank God he can handle me when I get like that. I have a hard enough time with myself, I don’t need someone else snapping at me. I have to find a way to keep everything even and not allow myself to crash like that. It happened today also. It happens more than it should.

The big thing that happened in the past week was I cleaned out my closet. I have clothes anywhere from size 14 to size 22. This is a huge range of clothes. I looked at some dress shirts and I thought they were 20s… they were a 22 and I remember them being TIGHT on me. I put one on. I love the shirts and I would love to wear them, but they’re 3 sizes too big and they really make me feel gross when I wear them. It’s amazing how the right sized clothes can really change your attitude and self image (shout out to Coop).

Side Note: I have a good friend that I have known for probably going on 8 years and he has lost close to ONE HUNDRED pounds. He’s catching up to me very quickly. He attributes his weight loss to me, telling me I inspired him to do it. He has really helped me see the snowball effect I have had on other people in my life. I am grateful for his friendship. He’s at the point where his clothes don’t fit properly. It’s difficult to go out and drop $100 on new clothes, especially when you continue to shrink. I have said no to clothes several times, not wanting to spend significant money on anything because I know I’m going to continue to lose weight and I know next year at this time my clothes won’t fit again. Last year is when I made my transition. I’m blessed to have angels in my life who helped fund my wardrobe change. I went to Old Navy and got plain shirts on sale. This past winter I went to Walmart and got plain long sleeved shirts. Nothing expensive or elaborate.

When I got the new clothes I never got rid of the clothes that were too big. I don’t know why, but there’s a reason for everything. My plan was to sell them to a consignment shop and go and buy the dress from Nordstrom I earned with my hundred pounds lost. I knew I wouldn’t get much, but it would be something. I don’t really remember what happened, but I saw a friend recently who has lost about 65 pounds since last time I saw her. She looks great. I went home and I looked in my closet. I knew I had several shirts that were too big for me but that would be perfect for her! I asked her if she wanted them and she said definitely, that nothing she had fit anymore. That was it. Life got busy and I didn’t forget about it but I didn’t do anything. She sent me a message on Saturday asking if I was serious about the offer. I told her absolutely and I got up at that moment and started cleaning out my closet.

I was pulling shirts off the shelf. I came across a pair of gray dress pants recently. They were a size 20. I put them on for Matt and they were insane. They used to be tight on me. When I cleared off the shelf I found my black pants with white squares (like pinstripes). First thing I did was I looked at the tag. 22. I don’t know what it is but it makes me so emotional to think about it. I have no idea what it is. I put them on and I thought the size 20s were huge. I couldn’t imagine at one point I couldn’t fit in them and I had to go buy a new pair. With them on and now thinking about it, it just hits me so hard. I look down and pull the waistband away from my body and I can see all the way down my legs. It really helps me see how big I really was. Jeans are cut differently and although there is a lot of space in the jeans, there’s something about the dress pants that are just stunning to me. I cry as I write this. Why am I crying? I just can’t believe I let myself get that out of control. I just can’t believe it. It’s really overwhelming.

So I took the pants off and put them back on the shelf. I need a reminder when I weigh 154 pounds of what 309 pounds looks like in clothing. I started taking shirts off hangers. Green, purple, flowy, square neck, v-neck, pink, casual, dressy… you name it, I had it. I texted my friend that I had more than I thought I did and I was so excited to give them to her. I worked my way down the closet rack. I didn’t have to look at the sizes. I knew what was what. I started laying it all out, layering them over each other, in a fanned out fashion. I came across shirts that were on the shelf, that I hadn’t seen in at least a year. Two favorites in particular hit me pretty hard. I just loved the way they looked when I wore them. I felt like I was saying goodbye to an old friend. I thought about keeping them for a brief second and I thought, “I will never wear them again. I won’t wear them now, they’re way too big and I’ll never be that size again. They’re going to a good home.” I took a picture of all of it. Easily 25 tops, at least. All in great condition. I then sorted them by style and started putting them in bags, folding each section.

As I put the last shirt on top of the second bag, I felt very strange. I knew something was happening but I couldn’t figure it out. I saw how empty my closet looked. I sat down on my bed and the tears just started flowing. I was sobbing. They’re coming again as I write this. It’s uncontrollable. I felt so confused about why I was crying. Not being a “cry baby,” when I do cry, I have to have a reason. I couldn’t tell if I was crying from the joy of being able to help a friend in need or if it was something else. It warms my heart that I can help my friend who did so much for me when I was younger and is a wonderful woman. I also felt overwhelming relief. I felt as if a chapter was closing. I don’t have to look at those clothes anymore. I don’t have that huge reminder of what I once was. I feel like that part of my life is closing and I’m moving on. I’m not going back and I never will. I was so unhappy in those clothes. I wasn’t who I was supposed to be. I was the toxic person.

So now what? I didn’t feel any more motivated after cleaning out my closet. Bestie sent me a text today telling me that Matt and I should run the Capital City 5k. It hit me immediately. I thought about it for a little bit and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to do it. I texted Matt that I think we should do it. So we’re going to do it. I called Bestie after work and as soon as I started talking about it I got emotional. I told her that I was hoping something would motivate, somehow, and that her message did it. She told me that she’s been trying to think of a way to get me motivated and that she remembered when I went to the half marathon with her, that’s where the original inspiration to get healthy came from. I am so blessed to have a best friend that just understand me and the way I work and the way I think and the way I feel. I thanked her for helping motivate me to get on track and that starting Monday, I will be back in the gym. I have a month to be able to run 3.1 miles and not die. I’ll do it. I still haven’t lost my 100… I’ll get there. Better late than never. It happens and it’s not worth being totally depressed about. Time to move on and continue to change my life.

You won’t be complete until you accept yourself.

Recently I posted this status on Facebook: “You won’t be complete until you accept yourself. You can’t look to others for that acceptance.”

 There was a specific reason for this post. There is someone in my life that is constantly seeking the approval of others. What do I mean by this? I mean this person seems to be looking to other people to feel validated with who they are. They put a lot of emphasis on what other people think of them. I recently saw on Facebook, “what other people think of you is none of your business.” I never thought of it this way, but it’s true. It’s no one’s business but that person. I have always had the attitude that if you don’t like me, that’s fine. You don’t have to, not everyone does and I really don’t care. I will tell anyone this to their face. I don’t care if you don’t like me. The difference is I truly don’t care.

But what did my status mean? To me, it’s self explanatory. I feel like I’m finally beginning to accept myself. I’m happy with the person I am and the person I have worked on becoming over the past couple years. I have always emotionally and mentally accepted myself, but physically I was disgusted. I hated looking at myself. I “accepted” that I was fat, but I didn’t like it. This is BS. I hated every minute of it and I always thought, “I’m not THAT big…” Yes I was. As I have lost weight, I have broken down the walls keeping me in my own little head space and it was really limiting to my growth as an adult. I had to overcome this obstacle. No amount of people trying to help guide me or love me was going to help me. I know this first hand. I ruined several relationships by pushing people away. I had to do it myself.

Some people never learn to do this with themselves and they try to fill that emptiness of “self love” (excuse the expression) with the love from others. This can be romantic love or friendship love… They’re looking for someone else to fill that void they have within themselves. There is no amount of ego stroking or praise or appreciation that will fill that void. It will never, ever be good enough. It will never mean anything. They’re constantly trying to find the one person who will make it all feel right for them. They don’t realize that the person is them.

This person asked me in the past, “how did you become the person you are today with everything that happened in your past? Where did your strength come from? How did you rise above it to be who you are?” I don’t know if I’ve talked about this before in another blog or not, but I’m going to again. I made a conscious decision at the age of 18 that I wasn’t going to worry about what my parents thought anymore. I made the decision to live my life how I wanted and I wasn’t going to let anyone stand in my way. I had to be my own person. Some people never feel this. They are controlled by their parents or the thought of what their parents would say or do.

Just the other day Matt and I were out to dinner and I heard the older man at the table next to us tell his what looked to be 30-something daughter, “you’re really stressing your mother and I out. You need to go back to church. Get up and go. We don’t need your stress in our lives.” She seemed hurt by this, like “why can’t they accept that I don’t want to go to church?”

Acceptance is really difficult. I struggle with it almost daily. I get upset, really upset, and I ask for guidance on how to accept what I’m upset about instead of getting upset and it’s a struggle. I don’t like being upset about it but I feel like I don’t know what else to do. Matt would say, “can you control it?” Me: “no.” Him: “then let it go.” So easy to say. Maybe life would be that much easier? I feel like when I “let it go” I will stop caring and I can’t not care.

So back to what I was saying about self acceptance. It’s not just acceptance. It’s forgiveness of one’s self and others. I know several people that carry judgement of their own actions around with them like a backpack. They will never forgive themselves of the wrong they did (or didn’t do, but think they did). What they don’t know, is forgiveness is incredibly liberating. For some, like me, it doesn’t come easy. It’s easier to stay mad at someone and hold the grudge and not deal with it. In reality, it’s extremely unhealthy to do it. We have all said or done something stupid in our lives. I can remember things right now that I wish I could take back but I will never be able to so I have to forgive myself for it and let it go. It doesn’t mean forget it, it just means don’t carry it around with you.

If you’re constantly standing in judgment of yourself, not accepting who you are or what you’ve done, how can you let anyone else in? It’s not possible. You will think, “how can that person love me, knowing what I did? I know what I did, I lived through it and I hate myself for it. Why don’t they hate me? Why do they still love me? I don’t deserve that.” Doesn’t everyone deserve to feel unconditional love? Doesn’t everyone deserve to feel happy? Maybe everyone is a stretch, but almost everyone… Coming from someone that had to learn forgiveness at a young age, it’s easier to move on from it than carry that pain around. Let it go. Forgive yourself. Accept what you did, own it. This doesn’t mean justify or make excuses; it simply means say, “yes, I did blah blah blah.” That’s it. By accepting the reality of the situation doesn’t mean you think it’s okay or that it never happened, it’s simply the first step to moving forward. It’s a conscious decision.

I feel like this is a rambling blog and I have more to say about it but this is long enough.

Accept yourself and you will begin to feel things.

Back in the saddle and ready to go.

I know you all missed me during the holidays. Happy New Year! I hope you all had an enjoyable holiday season! It flew by for me and it’s hard to believe how quickly it went.

The holidays were full of changes this year as my parents recently divorced and there are more people being welcomed into the family since this happened. For me it was nice to share the love of the season with more people. Since you’re sharing love, why not eat some food while you’re at it… right? Yeeaahhh… we’ll get to this in a bit.

I found out this weekend about a new family reader I have. Can I say, I love my readers, first of all, but I really love the secret readers. It warms my heart to know who is reading. Some of the most unexpected people read and I can’t express my gratitude enough. I don’t write short blogs so I know you have to really want to know what I’m saying to stick around and subscribe or admit you read it. I LOVE YOU! Seriously.

This secret reader family member asked my mom how I actually write my blogs. Since I am inspired by the interest, I will answer this question!

I never thought about a writing style until she asked me. I know how I write. I wasn’t taught how to write, really. I mean we learned a certain amount in high school but nothing in depth. Writing has always come very easily for me, much easier than speaking. I thought about getting an app to speak my blogs to so the app will write it, but I stumble over everything. It feels very awkward to me.

What I do is I make a list of points I want to discuss in a blog. Then I write about it. I don’t make a list and elaborate on it then write. I literally make a bullet list and go. Here is the list for this blog:

• Weight loss goals 25 by 3.28.13. 35 by 6.1.13
• Holiday eating
• Last year at this time – the dress
• Lost my motivation after the goal was reached
• How I write my blogs – new readers

That’s as simple as it is. I take topics in the order I wish to write them and I just start typing. It’s like my brain knows exactly what to say. When I’m done with a topic I will go back and proof read the section to make sure it sounds good and makes sense. I make my changes and I move on to the next topic. Then when I’m done, I read it in its entirety. I don’t do a lot of editing because I’m practically perfect as it is… BAHAHAHA… not… I don’t edit a lot because this is meant to be me. This is raw footage. It’s the good stuff. There are plenty of blogs that are covered in sugar and spice and everything nice but that’s not who I am and that’s not how I write, as I’m sure my regulars know. That’s why you read it. I appreciate that! My uncle told me last year that I write like I am speaking to you. This is exactly what it is. If I was going to sit and have a conversation with you, this is exactly what I would say. It’s me. =)

As many of you know I was Bestie’s maid of honor in September. Here are my two favorite pictures from the wedding and a couple more. She told me the other day how beautiful I looked and I told her I hated how I was spilling out of the dress. She insisted I looked great.

All of us

My favorite #1

My fav #2

I just thought… when I got that dress the zipper would not move. I was determined to make it fit and I did and I didn’t bust out of it. I didn’t rip any seams. I may have spilled over a little (or a lot) but that damn thing zipped and I hit that goal. There are two topics here. Last year at this time and losing the motivation after the goal was reached.

First of all, last year at this time I had just ordered the dress after speaking with someone at David’s and trying to figure out what size to order. I was a size 20 and about 250-260 pounds. I knew I did NOT want to be a 20 in the wedding pictures. I was a size 22 for Aaron’s wedding and I am disgusted with the way I look in those pictures. I was terrified to order this dress. It was being discontinued. I couldn’t get another one if it didn’t work. I wasn’t going to be a 20, that’s all I knew. I remember in January I told myself I couldn’t fail. “This is your best friend’s wedding. You will not be a whale and you will wear the dress you bought!” I was determined.

I think it was in July where I hit my lowest weight, most weight lost, 87 pounds. I became very emotional after my parent’s divorce and found myself beginning to emotionally eat more and more. As I dealt with that struggle, I knew in the back of my mind I had to stay in check because that dress zipped and I had to make sure it still zipped in September. I gained about 5 pounds; just enough to make it a challenge to zip that damn dress… I knew I had to maintain if I couldn’t keep losing… I did just this through the wedding day.

You would think there was a switch on my life. As soon as the wedding was over, I stopped being such a nazi about my food intake. I did the same thing the year before. I remember saying I jumped off the wagon in October for the holidays and in January I started right back up. I’m doing the same thing this year. After the wedding I really struggled with the fact I met my goal. Now you say, “how do you STRUGGLE with meeting a goal?!” I didn’t have anything to motivate me to keep going. Some of you now say, “Why do you need motivation to keep going? Just do it.” It just is not that simple. I need that carrot in front of me to keep this up. It’s much more fun to eat cake and red meat and drink egg nog all the time. Much less fun to eat like a rabbit… at least for me it is.

Yes, in the big picture my health should be my main motivator, and it is, but I hit a wall and I wanted to ENJOY the holidays. So I did. I don’t feel guilty. I don’t feel like I robbed myself of anything. I may have back peddled a little bit, but nothing too terrible. I know what I’m doing and I know how to get back on track. It was very difficult after the wedding with no goal in sight. I’m VERY proud of what I did and I now have a new goal in site. Big picture: I’m still down 75 pounds. BOOM! Can’t take that away from me!

This is NOT a New Year’s resolution. I hate that crap. You set yourself up for failure. So many people set unrealistic goals and then are depressed when they don’t or can’t reach it. Here are my goals.

I want to lose 25 pounds by March 28, 2013. What is the significance of this? In about 25 pounds I will have lost 100 pounds from my heaviest weight. March 28, 2013 is my 10,000^th day of life. I will be 10,000 days old and I just think that’s a cool goal to have. 100 pounds for 10,000 days.

I want to lose a total of 35 pounds by June 1, 2013. When I hit this goal I will explain it. The date has no relevance.

So now that I have publicly stated it, I must do it, right? Yup. You bet I will. I will have more experiences and stories to tell as time goes on, so I will be writing again.

Feel free to ask questions or comment. It’s always welcome. Thanks for reading!!

PS: Things are going very well with the boyfriend, who I will call “The Handsome One” until he tells me otherwise. He’s on this journey with me now so we’ll see how it goes!

Losing more toxicity and gaining more love.

It’s been almost a month since I have written and I can’t believe how quickly it has gone.

The new relationship is going very well. Like I told Mom last night, we have gone from seeing each other maybe 5 times in the last 4 years to being nearly inseparable. It’s all more than I could have ever asked for and I tell him on a daily basis how happy/ blessed/ lucky I am to have him in my life. I’m a very happy girl.

I write with a heavy heart today as I feel like I have let another friend go. Whether this friend is a reader of my blog or not, I don’t know, but as always, when writing about specific people in my blog, names will not be used and whether or not you see this, this is my blog, my thoughts, my revaltions, my words, my feelings, my views, my opinion. If you don’t like it, the truth hurts. The pain from the truth inspires change.

I hadn’t spoken with this friend over the course of the last month. When I asked them if they were mad at me two weeks ago, they replied with, “I don’t know.” This seemed cryptic and when I asked what this was supposed to mean they said, “something you said is bothering me and I don’t know if it’s me being overly sensitive or if it’s your personality.” Uhm, okay… my personality??!! Seriously? We’ve been friends for how long and you are basically telling me that my personality bothers you? Okay… that’s fine. I’m one of those people who you either like or you don’t. I understand that, but after all these years you tell me it’s bothering you? I asked what it was that I said that was so bothersome and they didn’t tell me. I asked several times with no response and I let it go. I didn’t hear anything until I sent another text about a week ago asking if they were still mad for an unknown reason and we hadn’t spoken in a month. They then proceeded to tell me that they were intentionally avoiding me because of what I said. They STILL hadn’t told me what I said that bothered them. It finally came out. I made a comment about how I thought big girls were harder to kidnap because they put up a fight and their size makes it more difficult. I think this is funny. I’ve always felt this way and it was a general comment. I would never, ever make a comment like this directed at someone who was overweight, especially someone I care about. This person took it personally and I’m pretty confused as to how. I thought this person had a thick skin and didn’t let things like this get to them? I guess I was wrong and I struck a nerve. It was unintentional. I apologized several times. They said that if this was part of me “getting my confidence back and my personality” then they didn’t want to be around it. They also listed two quotations of something similar to what I said but not exactly. I didn’t know how to take this. Initially I thought, “you bitch! You think I’m one of those bitches we hate. Who do you think I am?! I never said that!” I knew I shouldn’t respond right away, because it would spark an argument so I thought about it. I thought a lot about it and thought what EXACTLY did I say and why did it hurt this person so badly? Enough to the point they didn’t want to see me anymore?

I remember years ago, when I lived with the former roomie, we had a discussion about perception. You can say or do something with a specific intent and someone else may take it in a totally different way. That’s what happened here, in a way. Like I said in a previous blog, when I say things that my brain doesn’t see as hurtful, like, “will you still love me when I get skinny,” I don’t see that it could POTENTIALLY hurt someone’s feelings, intentional or not. It just comes out because I don’t tend to censor myself, especially around my friends. In the long run I start to second guess this. I think before I speak (usually) but maybe I should just avoid some topics all together? In another past blog I mentioned a former coworker that was a very large person and I was about the size I am now and I made a comment about weight. Not knowing my background, that person didn’t know I had lost a significant amount of weight so they thought I was just being rude. I thought one way and had one intent and the other party didn’t see it the same way. How do you change this? How do you make sure your point is made the way you want it to be made? It’s easy for me… or so I thought… I’m a straight shooter. I mean what I say and say what I mean so if you try to read too much into me, it will throw you off, because I’m pretty straight forward. People try to “understand” what I’m trying to say instead of actually listening to me. So when I’m talking about people not trying to kidnap big girls, if your name or the word “you” isn’t in the sentence that is coming out of my mouth, then it probably isn’t about you, so don’t make it about you.

In responding to this friend, I told them that I was sorry if they heard it the way they told me in the message but I knew that wasn’t a direct quote from me. I told them that I cared a lot about them and that I loved them and they needed to do what’s best for them and their life and if that means not seeing me, then I understand. I told them that I recently came back around to the “someone will always be pissed off mentality” of life and I can’t worry about making other people happy. I have to worry about me and my life and if they were going to be offended by me speaking about my life and my experiences, then I was sorry. I said some may find it selfish but it’s my life. They mentioned “ever since my weightloss” I was saying hurtful things. I told them that I had lost 30-40 pounds since the beginning of they year and that my life has changed more than I ever thought it would this year. It’s not like this happened over night. This person also mentioned how they have been nothing but supportive of me and they didn’t know why I kept saying things like this. I don’t see this person as supportive. I never felt supported and I really don’t now. I didn’t know how this person really felt about my weightloss until I said something about it. I don’t need my ego stroked. I don’t need anyone to tell me they’re proud of me. I’m not saying I don’t like it, I’m saying I don’t need that. It’s not what I look for. I’m not a compliment hunter. I know what I’ve done. I wanted a different life. I knew I was the only one who would do it and I did it. My life continues to evolve as time goes on and I feel like this person feels left behind. The Boyfriend asked if we could fix them. My answer was, “no. They have to do it themselves. I have tried talking to them about it but I can’t do it for them.” I know how it feels to get “left behind.” I felt that way when Bestie joined the Army and when she found her hubby. I haven’t felt like that for a very long time, but I can relate. You have to want to get out of it. You are the only one who can change it.

Life is too short to worry about what other people think. We live in ‘Merica and we have all the rights in the world. Don’t like my blog? No one has a gun to your head telling you to must read it. Don’t like your job? Don’t like your family? Don’t like your friends? Don’t like yourself? YOU are able to change it all. YOU are the only one who can do it. Others can help you if you ask for it. Some people will step up and really help more than anyone else ever has. You have to be the one to take charge. Someone helping too much? Change it. Don’t project onto other people because you’re unhappy. YOU are LITERALLY the ONLY person on the face of this planet to change your life. I’m still working on it. It’s a process but if you work for it, good things will happen. You have to trust in the universe or God or Sweet  Baby Jesus or whatever it is that you believe in that things will happen and it will get better. It gets frustrating and it takes time but you have to have faith that it will happen. Something I used to say a lot was, “if this is as bad as it gets, it has to get better.” It does get better, but only if you want it to.

Beginning the next chapter

So my last blog was really heavy. I’m sorry I’m not sorry. It’s life. We all have those days. It’s about taking something from them and learning and growing. It’s how we evolve as people. It’s what makes us stronger. Of the people I wrote about in the last blog, I know a few that have lost everything in the storm. It’s devastating to know that. I pray for their strength to move on and stay strong and rebuild. Everyone is safe and alive and that’s the most important.

It’s amazing how quickly life can change. I mean I can’t say it enough, I feel like a different person. I feel amazing. I know I have a way to go with my weight loss, but as far as emotionally and mentally, I feel the best I’ve ever felt. I’ve weeded out the negative people in my life. I have those close to me who I care for very deeply and those people mean more to me than they will ever, ever know.

Two years ago my coworker suffered a heart attack at work. Two years before that a close friend attempted suicide. These two people are two of my closest friends today and I can’t imagine life without them. It’s a wakeup call to them but also to those they know. Life will always have its terrible moments. It’s growing from that that makes life better. I learned with both of those instances that life is way too short and you need to appreciate the people you care about. Never be afraid to say I love you. If I love you, I’m going to tell you. If you make me happy, I’m going to tell you. On the other hand, if I have a problem, I’m going to tell you that also.

Those of you who know me know I don’t sugar coat very well. It’s annoying to me. I have had to say some really painful things in the past year to people I love, and I loved them in different ways; Painful to me and painful for them to hear. In one situation it helped. Not at first, but it ended up helping. In the other situation the other person was so resistant to hearing the truth they ignored it all together. I did what I could and it didn’t work. I had to walk away from that person. Don’t ignore me. I’m not wasting my words on anyone who has their hands over their ears saying “la la la la la.” No, thank you. I’m getting to a point… hang in there.

Now… this is all really important for any relationship to work. Sometimes a relationship seems so easy it really makes you think, “What’s wrong? What’s the trick?” You really question everything you’ve ever known in a relationship. You feel confused because it’s nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced before. In the past you may have been involved with someone who wanted to play the “on-my-time” game. Maybe someone didn’t want to know certain things about you. Maybe they didn’t want to know certain parts of your life like your friends, family, or career. They wanted to say it was serious but not really be serious. That’s a good way to eff with someone. Men and women both play too many games. It screws everyone up. We’re all damaged in some way, some a lot more than others. The only way to get undamaged (I know, not proper English), is to get help. Whether that’s a professional or someone you can relate to or someone who can’t relate but is a good listener. Sometimes it’s none of the above. People can come out of nowhere at times when you least expect it.

I feel like my universe is lining up. The annual Halloween Party I’ve been attending for the last four years is always an amazing time. I’ve met some great people. It’s a tradition at this point so as long as the party survives, I will attend. Four years ago I met a guy wearing a tuxedo. I kid you not. These guests go all out for Halloween. I don’t remember any conversation from that party. Time goes on. The guy in the tuxedo was a proctologist this year. I have talked to him at other parties we’ve been to, but something about the encounter in the garage struck me this year. There we were with Michael Jackson, Garth Brooks, a monster… I can’t even remember what he said, and I didn’t have any idea that I would feel the way I do today just a short week ago. Something in me felt different. It was a slow burn. He left without saying goodbye. His annual appearance was over. I’ll see him next year.

I went home and added him on Facebook. Why now after four years? For the life of me couldn’t rememberhis first name. I looked on a mutual friend’s page. There he is. I knew the last name was right… The first name seemed way off but it had to be him. Add friend. Done. A little later the friend request was confirmed. I check out his page. There’s nothing there. Buh. You don’t want to delete someone you just added because that’s jerky so you just have another empty Facebook friend. Or so you think.

*bing* A Facebook message from Mr. Tuxedo himself on Monday. “The doctor will see you now…” I knew this guy was funny so let’s see what we have. I was expecting to see everything I had seen before from other guys. Wrong. He was kind, charming, polite. I was being a total goofball thinking, “How long will he stick to his schtick?” I was just thrilled that he had messaged me. We begin texting. Then a three hour phone call. Thank God he has Verizon. After the call there was the, “I can’t believe we talked that long, I hate talking on the phone,” text. He asked me out for football and pink drinks at his favorite bar (because that totally sounds like Blaire, right?). Only because it was with the proctologist I said yes. I would have done community service with him if he asked me to. It was an unusual feeling. I had already met him several times and spent time with him at the parties. It was not a blind date where I would try to inevitably screw it all up and not end up going. I wanted to go. I wanted to see him and see what he was about. Get to know him.

I’m so glad I did. I’ve seen him every day for the last 5 days. Tomorrow will be six. The journey will be an interesting one. It’s crazy how busy two people can actually be when they start dating… well I guess that’s what I get with a social butterfly. Before him I wouldn’t want to go out. There’s so much about him that I enjoy. Using the term “us” and “we” is very strange. He’s very open and honest and my fiends like him, which is huge.

I’m not jumping to any conclusions and I’m not going to be one to air dirty or clean laundry on here. That’s not what this is for. I’m actually fairly private about friends for the most part. The purpose of me talking about him is that as my life continues to change and I continue to become the best person I know how to be, I will have experiences and feelings to share. I already feel so different. I’m a little gun shy from what happened earlier in the year, but unlike in the past, I’m not going to let that hold me back. I can’t. It’s too late now to hold back. I’ve already committed to him. Literally. =>;

I can’t wait to write this chapter in my life.

When no one can get in, no one can hurt you.

Tonight I write with a heavy heart. Watching the news, I can’t help but be overwhelmed by emotion. I know two firefighters in New York. I know several people and have several friends there. I see the devastation and put myself in those shoes. I can’t think to myself, “Oh, I’m sure they’re fine.”  No one knows that. Forty people are dead. No one has power. A city that never sleeps has been silenced. And it’s not just in NYC. We have customers up and down the Jersey Shore. I couldn’t imagine going to work one day and not seeing it there, or anything that resembles what once was. I couldn’t imagine any of this. I don’t remember feeling like this when Katrina happened. Is it because I didn’t know anyone in New Orleans? Is it because I didn’t care? Is it because I didn’t feel anything? Is it because I seem to feel everything more intensely now? Is it because I’m older and I care about people whether I know them or not?

I have another friend who suffered a great loss. I couldn’t help but cry when hearing of the premature birth of their child. Baby girl was a gift from God himself and a total miracle and she was quickly taken back to Heaven to be an angel. She had a short time with her mommy and daddy before leaving this life. There’s a reason for everything. She was so badly wanted and will be loved for all eternity. I can’t write any more about this.

I feel like I’ve become a different person this year. I realized several months ago (it may have started sooner, but I feel like everything clicked this year) that I wasn’t going to get anywhere if I kept at it the way I was going. I was damaging more than I was fixing. I easily drove people away without a care in the world. I was cold, but I thought I was warm. I cared about those close to me but for the most part I desensitized in 2006 when my ex-boyfriend and I broke up. I shut down. The easiest way to not get hurt and protect yourself is to not let anyone in. I have been hurt so many times in my life I was tired of that feeling. When no one can get in, no one can hurt you. Well people don’t like you either. I was likeable when I wanted to be but I’m sure most people really didn’t like me. I do have one of those personalities that you either like or you don’t.

In June I began to understand more about loving people and the true desire for others to be happy. I also realized one of the best things about being an adult is you can choose who you want to give your time to and who you want to spend your time with. There is someone in my life that will suck the happiness out of the room they walk into with one breath of air. I don’t want to be that person. I also don’t want to spend time with that person. That person is black and gray. They have no joy, as some would say. How do you get through life with no joy? I really don’t understand this. I never will. What makes you happy? What makes me happy? Food. My boys. My family. The color pink. Simple things. It doesn’t have to be something complicated or huge. This person has none of that. It seems as if they go through the motions of life. Why? Why not live a life worth living? This person is incapable of feeling happiness for anyone, for any reason, ever. I can’t do that. I realized I wasn’t a priority in this person’s life and I can’t keep trying to make myself a priority in someone’s life if that’s not what they want. Sometimes you just have to pick yourself up, as difficult as it is, and walk away. Some people get a lot more effort than they’re worth. I’m done. That person has caused a lot of pain to people close to me and I can’t keep hoping they will be someone they’re not. So I’m done. Another toxic person gone.

My next blog will be more upbeat. I promise.