Gratitude

Since it's been almost 6 months since I've documented anything, I think it's safe to say I've fallen off the blogging wagon.  And I'm ok with this.

I started this blog when my gym wife Jen told me to find a way to document my Paying it Forward experience and all the changes that were no doubt going to occur in my life.

My 32nd year was an emotional and physical maelstrom, in the best way possible.  I lost almost 100lbs.  I made some new friends.  I worked my ass off, figuratively and literally.  I cried all over my poor trainer on at least a weekly basis.  I cried all over my husband on at least a weekly basis.  I cried all over my nutritionist pretty regularly, as well.  I came to terms with my habits, my decisions, my mental state, my physical state, and my life in general.  I worked really hard to improve my physical, spiritual, emotional, and mental health.

In my 33rd year, the physical changes came a lot more slowly but the mental, emotional, and spiritual "journey" continued.  I lost about 30 more lbs.  I had surgery.  I gained 20 lbs back.  I re-lost the 20 post-op mashed potato and popsicle pounds.  I made more new friends (awesome ones, in fact).  I started practicing mindfulness, and found a lot of peace in yoga practice (which I used to hate with the fire of 1000 suns) and meditation (which I always used to feel like I was doing "wrong").  Because of this (I think), I cried a lot less.  I finished my BSN and started grad school, which may prove to be my worst idea yet (but will be worth it when I'm finished, I'm sure).

As I'm rapidly approaching 34, I feel like this is a perfect time to reflect on where I've been and the changes that have occurred.  I'm insanely proud of the physical changes that have occurred, but even more proud of the mental changes.  I feel clear, focused, and determined.  I feel confident and strong (most of the time).  I feel at peace with myself and my relationships.

Most importantly, I feel a deep gratitude.  I have even learned to become thankful for the not-so-awesome things that have happened in my life, because they shaped me into the rockstar you know and love today (I'm also thankful that I'm so humble).  I am so, so thankful for my husband, family, and friends.  I'm grateful for my education and career.  I'm grateful that people trust me every day to guide them towards making the best decisions they can for their health.

I'm grateful for the boys (not men) and girls (not women) I've known (and not known) who mocked my body ruthlessly and publicly.  I'm grateful for my exes who cheated on me.  I'm grateful for those assholes on Fair St who made me cry in 2014 and inspired me to apply for Jen's Paying it Forward contest/gift.

Does that sound ridiculous?  It feels a little ridiculous.  How can I be thankful for boyfriends who screw around on me, people who body-shame me, strangers who make me cry?  They taught me how to be resilient, how to persevere, how to keep my head held high, and how not to give a fuck about the opinions of people who, quite frankly, just don't matter.  Those lessons were hard to learn and those skills were hard-earned.  In the wise words of Jinkx Monsoon, "water off a duck's back."

They also, in a roundabout way, contributed to the amazing process of change and transformation that I've gone through and will not doubt continue to go through as I get older.

I'm grateful to Amanda, Kim, and everyone at Nutritional Healing for being amazing sources of knowledge and inspiration.  I'm so grateful for Anytime Fitness A-West, Neenah, Kaukauna, and A-East for being my homes away from home (seriously, I sometimes feel like I should just rent out a tanning room and move all my stuff in) and excellent cheerleaders (and super fun friends).

I hate to say this adventure is done, because it feels like it's just beginning.  I know I still have a long way to go before I'm where I want to be.  I don't believe in "before and after," I think I'll experience a slow but persistent evolution that will perpetuate forever, hopefully in a positive direction.  However, I have a feeling that the public documentation of it is finished.  It feels like a time for introspection and self-reflection.

With that said, thank you for cheering me on, thank you for the inspiring words, thank you for keeping me motivated.  Thank you for being my shoulders to cry on and my cheerleaders to high-five when things have been awesome.

Therapy

Pushing yourself physically can be a surprisingly emotional experience.  I say this from experience, because I cry at the gym with frightening regularity.  

Yes, it's embarrassing.  

Yes, it makes me feel awkward.  

Yes, I really really really 

hate crying in front of people.  

But sometimes I just can't hold it in.  When the emotions are there, bubbling right under the surface, I have to let them out...whether its joy, despair, anger, frustration, pride, etc.  I feel like if I keep it in I will seriously explode.

*** Side note: dear God, someone give my trainer a raise for all of my emotional issues that he has to deal with.  Seriously...whatever he makes is not enough.***

Imagine you've spent your life encased in a distancing, isolating, and in that way "safe" suit of armor.  Now, imagine your armor is gone.  Or in my case, partially gone and receeding more and more each day.

Part of you is glad to be rid of it!  It restricted your movements.  It prevented you from doing things.  It isolated you and made you uncomfortable.

But it was also safe in there.

And it's terrifying to not have it any more.

It can make you feel vulnerable to attack and exposed to everyone and small and meek and uncomfortable.

IF you let it.

And it's really, really hard not to let it make you feel that way, at least at first.

This is part of what I'm going through right now.  When you spend your entire adult life and most of your childhood being of above-average size, you don't know how to function differently.  You are used to negative comments or no comments being made about your body and appearance.  So, as nice as it is to hear compliments about your body, it may make you start to feel all of the above mentioned, unpleasant things (especially coming from people you don't know all that well). 

Even though you weren't strong before you started this process (at least, not as strong as you are now), you somehow feel weaker without your armor (as happy as you are to be shedding it).

Like I said, it's really hard not to get sucked into this mental trap of feeling weak or like a victim.

You know what helps?  What will make you feel stronger and empowered and fierce and like a bad-ass and like you could cut any mofo who tried to hurt you now that you don't have your armor?

Lifting heavy things.

Using muscles that you previously neglected.  

Sweating your face off.

Jumping onto tall things because you couldn't before.

Slamming things on the ground.

Throwing heavy things into the air.

Punching stuff (with boxing gloves on, of course, and only when invited to do so...don't just randomly start punching stuff, please).

Sometimes, doing this stuff is the absolute best medicine.

Yesterday morning, I went into the gym in a foul mood.  After making an ass of myself, crying all over my trainer for like the dozenth time, and having a short but revealing conversation, it was time to work out.

I felt like absolute crap.  And I really, really didn't want to be there.

30 minutes later, I felt amazing.  I was tired, red, sweaty, and sore.  But my mind was clear and my spirit was lifted and I was ready to seize the rest of my day.

I'm not saying that working out can or will fix all of your problems.  Thats overly simplistic and just not a realistic expectation.  

What I am saying is that, for me, moving my body helps me work through tricky situations, get over things that happened to me earlier in the day, clears my mind, makes my heart happy, and improves my mood immensely. 

You should give it a whirl. 

Fat Jokes Fuel my Rage

***I originally wrote this blog on 4/3/14, right after those buttheads on Fair Street shouted nasty things at me.  Those of you who followed my old blog probably recognize it...though it has been tweaked and more things have been added to it.






This is going to sound really weird, coming from someone who's fat.  But do you know what I love?

Fat jokes.  

Seriously.  I love them.  Not because I find them funny (the same way I don't find racist, homophobic, sexist, or other cruel jokes funny).  Because they're not funny.  Not at all.

I get it, because she's a whale.  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA FUNNIEST GODDAMN JOKE EVER.  Or, shut your stupid mouth and IMMA CUT YOU.

They fuel my rage.  They motivate me.  They make me want to punch people in their stupid faces.

So keep telling them, jerks.  I LOVE that shit.  With every joke you tell, my determination grows.  

I think of every fat joke, every cruel name I've been called, every asshole who has shouted hateful things at me from their car, or their porch (I'm talking to you, North Fair Street crackhouse) when I'm working out. 

WHY IS THIS FAT BITCH WEARING LEGGINGS?  HOW DARE SHE WEAR SKINNY PEOPLE CLOTHES?  Releasing mob of angry villagers with pitchforks in 3...2...1...

 As I do my lat pulldowns, I imagine the weights slamming down on your head with each rep.  When I row, I picture my elbows landing right in your stupid faces. 

In all seriousness, if you find these jokes funny, you are an asshole and I have no use for you.  If you find these jokes funny, you clearly have no respect for me anyways.  And yes, I am just as "sensitive" about sexist jokes (because I have a vagina and a SOUL), racist jokes (because not everyone is white and I have a soul), homophobic jokes (again, I have a soul) and other ignorant jokes (because I'm smart and have a soul).  

But keep telling them.  The rage pushes me to be better.

And furthermore, stop saying things like this:

"I love you like a fat girl loves cake."  If you must know, I much prefer pie to cake.  Also, I eat salads every motherfucking day.  So shut up.
"What's the point of having big boobs/an ass that won't quit/curves when you're fat?"  So...my fat cancels out my booty and cans?  I can think of one person who would beg to differ, and guess what!  He lives with me and is legally bound to my ass and cans FOREVER and you don't and aren't, so shut up.  Also, by this logic, "what's the point" of being thin if you are completely flat chested and look like a twelve-year-old boy?  Guess what, it's your body so I don't care! :)  ***Also, no, I do not think small breasted women look like boys, because breast size does not equate with femininity or beauty.  I'm just saying, it's just as ridiculous an example as what's been said to me.
"You have such a pretty face."  To most of you, this sounds like a compliment, but fatties can quickly read between the lines.  So shut up.




If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.  Except fat jokes, of course.  Fat people aren't discriminated against or anything, so it's fine.