Being vs. Fixing

At some point I just decided to stop fixating on fixing myself.

Maybe it was turning 40 that flipped the switch. My 30’s were chock full of deep soul-searching after my tumultuous 20’s. I spent too much time feeling not good enough, analyzing that feeling, and trying to fix it. Most of my posts from back then were about that struggle- my daddy issues, my child of an alcoholic issues, my body image issues, my worthiness issues. Am I all fixed now? No. It’s just that the focus isn’t on fixing but rather on being.

Being what? Being kind to myself. Being authentic. Being less in a hurry to be different from the person I am right now. Because this woman I am? She is flawed for sure but she’s also worthwhile. She’s got a lot going for her.

Maybe it was finding the love of Mr. Darcy that helped me settle into myself. It’s an amazing gift to be loved by someone the way he loves me. His unconditional acceptance of me has forced me to examine my own opinions about my worth. Our relationship pushes each of us to grow and I can honestly say I like myself better with Mr. Darcy.

Maybe it was the cancer summer that made me look at life differently. I used to think I could outsmart life. That I could plan thoroughly enough that I could best any bad thing that might occur. That by playing out every worst case scenario and masterminding a Plan B, I’d be set. And then a doctor called to tell me I had cervical cancer and life laughed in my face.

I am grateful to my cancer for many reasons but the biggest one is that it showed me how to accept- accept myself, accept fear, accept love, accept life. There is no amount of worry or planning that will give you control over every outcome. Life is often about dealing with shit that happens when you’ve made completely different plans. I do not know what the future holds but I can see what today is full of. My appreciation for the little things has grown exponentially.

Whatever combination of circumstances brought me to this place, I want to acknowledge that I’m here. I’m here not apologizing for who I am or how I feel. I cannot stress how monumental that statement is for me to make. I have thrown out the list of all my issues that need resolving before I can be worthy of love and happiness, before I can enjoy my life.

I’m just here, being me, enjoying my life without qualifiers.


Hello 40

Today I turn 40.

How did that happen? I can blink and picture myself on my 30th birthday tipsy and laughing at party with my 50 closest pals, thinking forty sounded so far away. It’s amazing where life can take you and how quickly time passes the older you get.

My thirties taught me a lot about risk and faith and trusting myself and being brave. They taught me I am stronger than I thought and that being strong doesn’t mean being hardened to life, to being vulnerable, or feeling all the feelings. In fact, doing all of those things makes you strong. During the past decade I have made peace with parts of myself and parts of my life that I always wrestled with- my relationship with my father being the biggest one. I packed up my entire life in Santa Cruz, CA to move to Seattle where I knew 3 people and didn’t have a job and in that leap of faith, I got to experience living in a big city, being a single woman in a hip part of town, going on some good and some (very) bad dates that eventually led me to Mr. Darcy, and finding a life I wouldn’t trade with anyone.

In my 30’s I not only found my person, I found myself. I found a woman I am proud to be. Ten years ago I was in therapy writing out lists of qualities I liked about myself (the list was short and difficult to write) and a list of qualities I’d like to possess- the woman I’d like to be. It’s safe to say that I’ve spent the last ten years becoming that woman I dreamed of but didn’t think was possible. I’m imperfect but my flaws give color to my character and I’m okay with that. I make mistakes but I no longer shy away from trying out of fear of failing because I know that the attempt is sometimes as meaningful as the success. I no longer feel like I have to constantly be doing something, to be busy, to have plans. I don’t strive to multitask every aspect of my life. I relish in a day with nothing on my calendar. Who? Me? YES ME. I don’t give everything I have to everyone I know because I have finally learned that I don’t have to prove my worth, that I don’t have to be everyone’s friend, that (and this is a big one) people don’t need rescuing. I’ve retired my cape.

I’ve gotten more and more okay with people not liking me. I’m still flummoxed when it happens but, fuck it, that’s life and it doesn’t mean I am a bad person just because someone doesn’t find me delightful. I’ve learned that you can be hurt or hurt someone and repair the relationship if you’re both honest. That fighting doesn’t mean the end. That the people meant to stick around will stick it out with you even when it gets messy. I’m grateful to all the people who have lead me here, even the ones who broke my heart or made me cry, because all of it shaped me. I can now write a list about all the things I like about myself. I wish I could call up my therapist from when I was 30 and having a mini nervous breakdown, falling apart in her office on a weekly basis, and read her my new list. I’d like to say thank you to her for helping me when I felt like no one could.

And thank you to YOU. Ten years ago I didn’t know what a blog was but now I can’t imagine my life without this space and without all of you. I appreciate you reading, commenting, and supporting me through the years. You’ve cried and laughed with me. Today, let’s celebrate! I’m forty, damn it! In honor of my birthday and my journey to self-acceptance, I want to hear from you- what’s something you really like about yourself? And if you feel like it, what’s something you like about me? Let’s blow up my comment section with a lovefest, okay?

Here, I’ll start: I  like my honesty and my sense of humor. I really like that you show up for me.

Your turn. . .

Going on My Marry Way

I’m sitting here in my living room with light from the morning sun p ouring throughour big windows thinking about happiness.

Happiness has never come easy to me. Or if it did, it felt fleeting. I’ve put a lot of pressure on myself to Be! Happy! and mostly felt like a failure because I am unable to sustain the feeling. Does this mean I don’t love my life? Absolutely not. I just find it easier to not operate at that level. It feels way to tenuous and we all know how I like a plan.

But then I met Mr. Darcy and we’ve had all our ups and downs on our love journey, our engagement, buying our house, the cancer summer, and now in just a few days, our wedding, and I can say unequivocally that I have never been more content and happy with my life. It kind of unnerves me but in a really good way. It’s a new feeling, this feeling joy. Letting it stick around, allowing myself to trust it. I have struggled for so long to feel worthy of it.

The problem has never been the absence of happiness but rather the acceptance that I deserve happiness.

I’ve never been more excited about anything more than I am about marrying Mr. Darcy on Sunday. I shared my elation with you because I consider you my friends and even though I can’t invite all of you the wedding, having been here along this journey with me you have played a part in this happiness and for that I thank you. Your excitement at our union has been such a fun part of all of this.

I might not have time to blog again until after the wedding so I wanted to tell you thanks with heartfelt appreciation for your support. I’m about to dive headfirst into a whirlwind of activity, friends, family, laughter, togetherness, love, and, yes, joy. I’m choosing happy today and hopefully all the days that come after it.

I’m making my own happily ever after. Mark my words.


On Being Ready

When I was single, I used to curse my fate and wasted hours wondering why I couldn’t find someone to settle down with. For so many years I felt like not enough, an obvious outsider in the land of coupledom, the fifth wheel, that friend who was always going on dates but never really had a partner. But now that I am days away from marrying Mr. Darcy, almost three years into our relationship, I am glad it took me until I was 36 to find my Mr. Right and until I was 39 to get married.

You see, all that time I spent dating random guys (or as some would say “sowing my wild oats”), I learned a lot about myself, about relationships, and about love. So when I finally met Mr. Darcy, I was in a place where I was ready. I haven’t been bothered by any nagging regrets- did I live out my single days to their fullest? Why yes, yes I did. I have the stories to tell and the scars to prove it.

Every guy I dated before Mr. Darcy helped shape the woman I am today- for better or for worse- and I’m grateful for all of them, even the ones who broke my heart. Because in its breaking, I learned how resilient my heart is and it grew stronger every time. I have no regrets for the life I’ve led or the men I’ve shared it with. I even got lucky a few times and dated some really great guys who are now among my closest and best friends. In fact, three of them are coming to my wedding.

The other day as I walked through our old neighborhood, I kind of chuckled to myself. Six and a half years ago when I moved to Seattle, I wanted so desperately to fit into the scene there. The dirty emo hipsters with their tattoos and tight jeans and retro outfits, their late nights at bars and hangover breakfasts on Sundays. I wanted to be cool too. And maybe I was. Maybe I still am. But I realized then as I dodged smoking teens and street musicians and girls much younger, thinner, and hipper than I, that I’m so happy with my life. My suburban life with Mr. Darcy in a house we own, at jobs we like, surrounded by friends and family we love, the hope for a child alive inside of us, about to get married to one another. This is the dream I never thought would come true. It’s so much simpler than I ever thought and yet, more than I thought was possible for myself.

So many of you have been on this journey alongside me, reading my updates, and giving advice and support. It feels like forever ago and simultaneously like yesterday that I was lamenting my single life and my poor choices in men- so much so that my friends intervened with the Boyfriend Review Board. Remember that? Luckily Mr. Darcy (who was known as Bachelor #4 back then) passed with flying colors.

You guys? I’m getting married on Sunday. I can hardly believe this is happening to me.

Flaws and Fears

Dear Blog,

It’s been almost two weeks since my last confession blog post.

My list of excuses for my absence are as follows:

1) I was busy

2) I was having too many emotions to make sense of in a blog post and/or it was stuff I don’t feel I can share publicly

3) I was paralyzed in the overwhelm that is my current emotional life

4) I feel I don’t have anything new to say or contribute to the blog world

5) I was avoiding you


Let’s discuss #3. A lot of people have been saying to me something similar to “you must be so excited and happy with the new house and the upcoming wedding!” And instead of gushing about it, I share an itemized list of all the things I have to do to get the house “ready” or get the wedding details in order. Where is the joy? Where is my happiness? I don’t even notice I’m not feeling those things until someone else does. This seems like a problem on top of a problem.

Not experiencing good feelings while not noticing the absence of said good feelings = problem.

I don’t mean to say I am never happy or excited or full of joy. But these moments are fleeting for me. They always have been. I have spent the majority of my life stressed out and in hyper-awareness mode. I’ve talked about this before countless times. I apologize for the redundancy but this way that I am is all up in my face right now and I need to talk it out (again).

I am always anticipating the problem so I can have a solution. This might be the nature I was born with or it might be the conditioning of growing up the oldest in an alcoholic household. I tend to be all business- meticulous, detailed, regimented, task-oriented, perfectionistic. Being that type of person has helped me function in the world, and in many respects, has helped me survive. These are some of my prized coping mechanisms. They make me really good at my job as an Event Manager. They make me very challenging to deal with in a relationship.

Mr. Darcy and I have been having a rough time the last few weeks. We are very opposite each other in some key ways. We also remind each other of our parents which is basically like picking up the trigger phone and dialing straight to crazy. In total honesty, we have said to one another (in complete fear of it being what the other person might be thinking/feeling) that maybe we shouldn’t get married. Does anyone ever talk about this? Because I sincerely doubt we are the only engaged couple to ever have these fights, thoughts, feelings, fears. Fuck it. So what if no one talks about it. I’m talking about it because it’s real for us. I know we’re not the only ones.

Back before we were engaged and we’d have an argument, sometimes one of us would wonder aloud if we should break up. I think for two people who are afraid of being rejected/left/unloved, going to that place and saying such a thing is understandable. Saying it doesn’t mean it should happen. It doesn’t even mean that either of us WANT it to happen. Pretty much it means the opposite of that, frankly. So now that we’ve upped the ante and are engaged, have bought a house together, and are a little over 3 months from a wedding, we now say “should we get married?” instead. It sucks. It hurts our feelings. Who the hell wants to acknowledge their deepest fears? I know people who spend their entire lifetimes avoiding such things! And yet here we are, looking it in the eye and feeling really shitty about it.

I want to marry Mr. Darcy. Even when I’ve been the one to say “should we get married?” I want to marry him. Even when we are having an argument, I want to marry him. He is my person. I just want to figure out how to get out of my own damn way so I can love him the way he deserves to be loved. I want to find a way to relax into trusting him and this relationship. I want to let myself feel happy feelings for more than a fleeting minute and figure out how to turn off the to do list running in my head like a ticker tape. I want to trust us, that no matter what we’re there for each other.

Every day I choose him, even on the days when I am not my best self or I question why he’d want to spend the rest of his life with me.

We’ve gone through a lot of change in the last month- he started a new job, we moved to a new neighborhood, our commutes changed, our routines flip-flopped, we bought a house(!), and we’re in the final stages of wedding planning. We might be kind of stressed out. I might be in full-on Colonel Sizzle mode, trying to reign in all the chaos. Mr. Darcy grew up in a home with an actual Colonel as a dad. Yeah, you can see how me being like that might not create harmony in the home. But we’re working on it because we love each other and want to be together. We’ll probably always be working on it. Relationships are works in progress.

Permission to be flawed, granted.

Does this emotional meltdown make me look fat?

Last week I had a major meltdown of epic proportions.

I had purchased jeans on-line. I hate jeans shopping. I think I hate it more than swimsuit shopping. As much as I proclaim I am a dress girl all the way, there is this piece of me that longs to just throw on jeans and a shirt and look effortlessly cool and hip and comfortable. But usually when I put on jeans I feel dumpy. I carry the majority of my weight in my belly so jeans that usually fit my legs don’t fit around my middle. As was the case with this pair. I got them buttoned but my stomach was smushed up and over the waistband. I walked out to the living room to show Mr. Darcy and was laughing about how ridiculous I looked. He even remarked, “At least you can laugh about it.”

I went back to the bedroom to change and looked at myself hard in the mirror. I stopped laughing and cringed. I felt ashamed and for me, shame usually gets masked by anger. I started to internalize my anger, saying terribly mean things to myself about being ugly, fat, unworthy, unloveable. I tried to cover up my downward spiral by going about making myself dinner (I had gone to dance class after work so it was nearing 8pm). But then my internal fuckedupness told me that I didn’t deserve to eat. Look at how gross I am. Look at how pathetic. Mr. Darcy tried to be comforting but I pushed him away saying I was going into the bathroom to probably cry. I feel so silly crying about my body in front of him. I know he feels helpless. I know he thinks I am beautiful. But I don’t. And that’s the crux of the problem here.

So I cried and then tried to pull myself together to go watch TV with him on the couch. I looked pretty pathetic sitting there, curled up into myself, far away from any comfort Mr. Darcy might want to try to give me. He tried, bless his heart, and I started to try to explain. “I just want to be normal! I just want it to be easier to find clothes so I can look like everyone else. And this is why I am paralyzed with fear about finding a wedding dress. What if I can’t find anything? What if it’s all dumpy plus sized dresses made out of cheap material? I’m so afraid I’ll have a horrible experience shopping that I will be pushed to this place of self-hatred and I won’t be able to come back from it.” It poured out of me and I felt too raw to sit there exposed like that so I left and went back to the bathroom.

I like to have my breakdowns in privacy.

I sat on the bathroom floor and bawled. I felt scared that I couldn’t pull myself back from the crazy precipice I had found myself at. I couldn’t self-soothe. I couldn’t rationalize my emotional roller coaster. I couldn’t catch my breath. I had spiraled to the dark place. I felt utterly alone.

I suppose this all sounds dramatic and maybe I was being over-wrought. I can usually talk myself down from this mental state but for some reason that night I was unable to.* When I opened the bathroom door Mr. Darcy was standing there, leaning against the wall. I felt even worse knowing he’d heard me- that he’d stood out there waiting for me to be done, knowing that if he’d try to comfort me I would have pushed him further away. So he waited and listened to me cry even though it was hard for him to do so. He’s learned to give me space but not to completely disappear and I am so grateful for him. So thankful that he loves me even when I’m clearly acting like a lunatic.

My therapy appointments are focused on my body loathing because it holds me back from being fully present in my life. Because it’s the thing I always come back to when I feel low. It’s my shame epicenter. And goddamnit I am tired of it. Despite a lifetime of dieting and trying different work out regimes, starving and bingeing, hating myself for not accepting myself as is and shaming myself for not being “an acceptable weight”, I’m just SO DONE carrying all this around. It’s like a barrier between myself and the life I want to live. I want to be free. And so, I’m diving into the deep emotional work and I’m basically terrified about what I could discover. But I’m doing it anyhow because this isn’t how I want to live. Even if it’s just an occasional breakdown, those feelings live inside me just waiting for the opportunity to break out. Where do those feelings come from? And why?

I hope to find out. And I hope what I discover doesn’t break me.


*Turns out those crazy emotions could be attributed to whacked out hormones. Thanks PMS! But still, something has to change.

Come What May

I felt a lot of feelings in 2011.

I don’t know how else to say it except like that. I posted less than I ever have but looking back I’d say I felt more than I ever have. Or rather, I allowed myself to feel.

Therapy was instrumental in all this feeling business though my relationship with Mr. Darcy is at the center of it all. He keeps me grounded with his unconditional love & acceptance and listens to me while I whirl through my many moods. Our relationship has given me permission to be kinder to myself. Sure, I still have hang ups but I’m slowly accepting my imperfections. I would even venture to say that 2011 was the year I dropped the word “neurotic” as an adjective when describing myself. Can I get an amen? I also found peace when it comes to my relationship with my dad. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever be able to say that, let alone feel it.

I’m terming 2011 as The Year of Feeling because instead of using my default method of over-thinking Every.Single.Thing, I’ve started to let myself feel. I’m trying to slow down and not use as many defenses. It’s often totally confusing and complicated and I have been known to freak out. (AHEM) But you don’t get good at something without practice. So. . .I’m practicing. All over the place. (Warning: if you’re around me, you might get practiced on.)

While I lost some weight, I’m still and probably always will be trying to figure out how to accept myself- chub and flaws and all. I think the greatest gifts in my shift to healthy living was how much I enjoy working out (thank you, Nia!) and how much better I feel when I don’t eat sugar or white flour. Eating right for my body and working up a sweat make me a saner, more loving, and a more engaged person. I like that girl! I want to be her all the time! I aim to do much more of that in 2012 because goddamnit it’s high time I feel worthwhile.

There are other things I hope to continue and/or revisit in 2012. I miss having a steady yoga practice. The yoga offered at lunchtime once a week at my office is nice but it’s nothing like the studio I used to go to. I really want to give myself that time/space back even if it costs me too much to do that and Nia. Even going once a week to the studio I think will really steady me. I have been longing to get back to meditation too. I wasn’t very good at it but I really did feel more calm & centered for the effort. People might see me as this energetic, frenzied person but inside I long to be a peaceful, centered, graceful woman. I would like someone to use the words “poised” or “in tune” or “joyful” to describe me. I think yoga helps me find that part of me that isn’t easily cultivated in my day to day life as an event planner/apartment manager/social butterfly.

2012 is poised to be a big year for me. Career-wise, I’ve made some serious headway on my event planning business. I’ve got a name, a logo, and a web designer plus am very close to finalizing my business plan. (YAHOO!) There is talk of a ring, a wedding, and a house to call our own. If that isn’t “big” I don’t know what is. Hell, let’s throw in a puppy and a pregnancy and I’ll have checked off my adult life list basically.

I’m joking.

One thing at a time.

Which is nice to say and mean because as I get older and time whizzes by faster and faster, all I really want to do is savor this life, the beauty in it, the small moments of connection and the people I am blessed to share my journey with. I am excited for what is ahead and grateful that 2011 gave me the opportunity to go deeper into my relationship with myself so that my relationships with everyone else could shift and deepen.

Speaking Truth, Facing Fear

One of the things that is hard about changing yourself is that you have to figure out how to be in relationship with people in a new way. This can prove to be especially challenging when it comes to relationships that have been around a long time. If the changes you’ve made upset the general make up of the status quo in the relationship, you’re going to need to have a chat with them. Or, you could just avoid the relationship. Which, telling you from experience, will only work for a short period of time and then you’re probably going to have to suck it up and talk.

You see, I have this mental list of people I need to have a sit down with. A Relationship Summit type of talk if you will. Because I no longer feel like I can comfortably exist in the confines of the relationship without speaking up about the truth of my feelings and my heart’s hope for the future of our relationship.

Am I looking forward to doing this? Um, no. Absolutely not. I’m pretty much postponing it for as long as I can and/or avoiding any deep conversation with these folks. I figure I will a) eventually get so uncomfortable, I will be forced to do it or b) they will call me out on being weird/different and I can’t lie my way out of it (Note: I am a terrible liar) or c) I find my bravery and just do it. C would be preferable.  Now if I could only find my bravery.

This weekend my mom and I had lunch. I will admit I was anxious about it because from my perspective, my mom and I have not been getting along for a couple of months years. Lately, I’ve been avoiding having any one-on-one time with her in an effort to keep a hard conversation at bay. I didn’t want to hurt her. I didn’t want to get hurt. Blah, blah, blah. I had a lot of reasons but really it all boiled down to fear.

My relationship with my mom isn’t one I go into here very often. She reads my blog (hi mom) and for the most part, I’ve found it easier to talk about my other parent, the one who passed away 19 years ago. I’ve spent a long time in the throes of my grief over my relationship with my dad and it’s just recently that I feel a sense of acceptance and peace with it which I guess is why I now feel like I can face my relationship with my mom.

Basically, my mom and I have some deep stuff to work out and there was no way it was going to get better or we were going to have the closeness I (we) want without a heart-to-heart. I’ve spent most of my life putting up a barrier between my family and me as a way of keeping me safe because I didn’t feel emotionally safe in the family. I acted like I had it covered, that I was strong, that I didn’t need anyone when in truth what I wanted and needed was the exact opposite. I have come off as angry and ferociously independent to the point that it has alienated me from them. My mom has given me space because she didn’t know what else to do. To her it seemed like that is what I wanted and that I didn’t like her or being around her.

The last thing I wanted was space. I can admit that now and did so to my mom over salads at a restaurant where hits from my high school years played over the speakers and I tried to hide that I was crying from the other diners.

I didn’t want that space. I wanted my mom to see I was hurting and stuck under a burden of pain that I didn’t know how to give voice to. My mom did the best she could in a difficult situation. I can empathize with her, especially now as a grown up trying to have a successful, healthy relationship with Mr. Darcy. Through tears we managed to talk through some very difficult subject matter. I really can’t recall ever telling my mom that my feelings were hurt before- maybe when I was a kid but not as an adult. But there I was, saying it, while “Tainted Love” played.

The thing is- I want to have a good relationship with my mom. I want us to enjoy each other. I don’t want to waste any more time being angry about stuff that can’t be changed. It turns out I just needed my mom to hear I was hurt and for her to acknowledge it and say “I’m sorry”. I don’t know if I could have had that conversation any earlier as much as I wish I hadn’t wasted time being mad or feeling hurt. Everything happens in its own time, right? I’m just grateful that we took that first step towards healing. I hope we can both continue to work on our relationship and have fun together again.

I’m pondering the other conversations I need to have and trying to work up the courage to start them. If I ultimately want closeness with people it’s going to take me being vulnerable and brave. I’m going to have to speak up. I’m going to have to acknowledge my feelings and my behavior. Because if I really am different, than this is part of the new me.

Cycle 3 Recap & Results

This cycle felt a lot like my usual way of eating. I (mostly) steered clear of sugar (hello, it was Halloween) and white flour but added back in whole grain bread. I had a few glasses of wine and noticed that wine and I don’t get along as well. Think – headache the next day from 1-2 glasses. I worked out the same amount- my typical 5-6 dance classes a week plus yoga. It all felt very normal. Very non-diet-like.

For some reason in the last week people started to notice I’ve lost weight. Co-workers and friends have commented. I do feel lighter even if I have a long way yet to go. Clothes that were snug or didn’t fit before now are staples in my wardrobe. Coats button without being tight. My work out clothes feel loose around my mid-section. My jaw line is more pronounced. It feels good to be able to see the changes not just feel them.

I’ve cumulatively lost 14 pounds and about 3 inches around my middle since I started 51 days ago which, if I am doing the math correctly, equals out to about .27 lbs per day or half a pound loss per week.

Starting weight: 219.4

Weight after 17 Day Cycle 3: 205.5

Measurements: total loss of 3 inches around waist & hips, 1 inch around thigh, half an inch from upper arm, and 1.5 inches from the bust

So what now? I am  and starting back on Cycle 1 because clearly I have not reached my weight loss goal. I’m not particularly looking forward to existing on lean proteins, veggie, fruit and non-fat yogurt again. It’s super limiting and requires a lot of pre-planning and meal preparation. I am determined to get below 200 pounds before Christmas. Once I hit that goal, I will set another. And then another. Good thing I am motivated by goals, right?

I anticipate I will have to modify it in the next month. With how busy I am at work plus travel plus all the socializing that comes with the holiday season, it’s going to be difficult but I can do it. No, I WILL DO IT. I’m also going to try to add some pool time and free weights a couple of days a week. I’m not yet at that place where I feel like if I went off the diet regime I would be able to keep losing weight. The regime gives me structure and that helps me at this stage in the game. I’ll now do monthly weigh-ins instead of every 17 days.

The journey continues. . .


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Body Hatred > Self-Love: Changing the Equation

It was a culmination of things that lead me to this place.

This place where, for the past two weeks (and counting), I have been subsisting on only lean protein, certain veggies, some fruit, non-fat, plain yogurt, and green tea. I’ve been in detox mode. Or as I call it in my mind, “fuck this fat” mode. And yes, the vulgarity is important.

I’m totally pissed off- at myself, at my fat, at my inability to just accept my body as it is and be fine. The truth is I AM NOT FINE and I spend way too much energy thinking about how unattractive I am because of my fat. THAT IS NOT OKAY. I’m sick of it- that way of thinking, that way of being. I’ve tried to embrace the reality of my chubby self. I dress it up and put on a brave face. I already eat healthy and work out 5 days a week. And yet I am still heavy.

What. The. Fuck.

So I decided that I had to DO something because I am not good at just sitting back and letting life happen to me. I’m a person of action. And so, inspired by a blog friend, I picked up the 17 Day Diet book and have immersed myself in the process. It’s very similar to South Beach which I had a lot of success on before I met Mr. Darcy. Remember when I dropped 30+ pounds? Well. Uh. I gained 25lbs of that back. And that realization made me crumble in a pile of my own self-loathing. I could tell clothes were fitting me differently but then I bought a scale and the truth of it could not be denied. This is not the first time I’ve had to take a very hard look at myself and my body.

There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to put this here- admit to my fatness like it’s some secret. The feeling of vulnerability in confessing that I am depressed about my body and my inability to keep weight off and the fact that I can’t seem to truly accept this part of myself is off the charts. But I know a lot of you struggle with this same issue and like all the other personal stuff I share, I figure sharing this might help some of you.

At work my co-workers are intrigued and/or appalled by the food I am existing on. Some of my naturally thin co-workers have never had to diet and having to give up certain foods seems unfathomable to them. “No bread?! I would die.” (I’ve heard this.) “Why are you doing this to yourself?” to which I asked, “Have you ever been fat?” A look of horror flickered across his face. Don’t say the word fat! Don’t admit your fatness aloud! No one wants to talk that bluntly about it.

It’s my fat and I will talk about it if I want to.

If you have never been fat, you don’t get it. There is probably something you might not like about your appearance but if you’ve never been overweight you do not get why I am doing this. That’s what I want to tell them. Eat your Wendy’s cheeseburger and fries and be thin and don’t worry about me. I am taking care of me.

That’s the hard thing about sharing your “diet” with anyone. There are so many opinions. How you should do it. What worked for them. You’re fine the way you are. You should just. . . FILL IN THE BLANK. I am not asking for advice because I am having yogurt and fruit for breakfast, okay? I’m just trying to get a handle on my relationship between my mind and my body. It’s really complicated and not easy but I am hoping it pays off. I would like to use all that brain-space and energy for more productive things than self-hatred.

I have done a great deal of really hard work on accepting myself. I’ve had a lot of success in every area but this one. I’ve reached rock bottom when it comes to my body hatred. I want to look in the mirror and not be full of judgment. I want to walk in a room and not worry about what other people are thinking about my size. I want to be free from the self-loathing. I’ve got shit to do and this? This is taking up too much time in my life schedule.