Am I Normal?

"If you're always trying to be normal, you'll never know how amazing you can be."

~ Maya Angelou

Wow... I was going to name this post "Online Dating, Part Whatever it is" but it's more than that really. Maybe it should be "Dating While Normal."

I've gone out on a few "meets" now - they aren't really dates, because these are more like meeting to see if you want to date. And, there's one thing I have found, I am a lot more normal than I thought I was.

I was reviewing my "meets" with a close friend and the more I described these meets the more I realized that there are a lot of interesting men out there. And by "interesting" I mean weird.

Now, I'm not a bad conversationalist. I'm a better listener, but I can hold my own during a conversation. Unfortunately, a lot of these men don't know how to communicate. It ends up being like an interview with me playing the hiring manager.

What activities do you enjoy? How often do you do them? Where have you vacationed? Do you like music? What type of music do you listen to? Really, you like dogs? Do you have any?

I don't believe I asked about your ex, so no, I really don't want to hear about your ex-wife - the entire evening!

It's exhausting.

And, then we have the man who said we didn't have any "spark" - I'm good with that. It's all good, we won't have a spark with everyone we meet. Truthfully, I didn't feel much of a connection either, but was willing to go out again. That first meeting is always difficult. So, no big deal, right?

Except, he keeps texting me that it's him, not me. That the distance was the issue. That he really wanted it to work, but he's sorry that it didn't. He would text me advice on how I could make my first meet with others better...because, you know, those men online are all alike and he was an expert.

It's okay, dude.  I'm perfectly ok. It's all good.  I'm not kidding.

He thought that I was just too passionate.  I'm Latina - I'm passionate. Deal.

But, he texted again, if we haven't found anybody in three months we could have sex.

Wait, what? Oh, hell no!

I have a few more dates lined up. One sounds promising. We'll see if he's close to being my level of normal. I can't be the only normal one out there!

Oh, gosh, at least I hope not!

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Carmen Garcia writes about stuff... life as a single mother, dating, weight loss, performing, and other random experiences. Sometimes it makes sense. Other times, not so much. You decide.

Online Dating...Sheesh Part 3

"I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn't it." 

- Groucho Marx

I have come to the realization that men online truly enjoy playing darts. It's not necessarily in their description - dart playing - but they do.  Throwing their darts hither and yon trying to hit a bullseye whenever and where ever they can.

And, by darts, I mean their penis.

Now, I realize that dating and their sexual needs are different for men. Their {{ahem}} urges are right out there.  And, I can try to understand that if you've been searching online for a while and when you do actually see a woman in person, it can be overwhelming. I think.

I didn't say I did understand...just that I could try.  I couldn't.

But gracious! the number of men that I have been propositioned by online are endless. I may be a bit cute, but really...I'm not that gorgeous, beautiful, striking, or whatever other description they want to use to get my attention. Ok, maybe that doesn't get old, but you know what I mean.

And, if I'm called "dear" one more time! Ugh.

Stop telling me how kissable my lips are. Stop telling me that you could get lost in my eyes. Meet me in person first and lets see what we think.

Of course, I also get those men that think they are god's gift. Talk about playing darts.  That's all they want to do.

They want to send me pictures of their pecks, their six-pack, their... um, dart! They have told me about all the dart games they have played, like that is going to make me say, "break me off a piece of that!" I ask, if you're so wonderful and good looking and so good at hitting the bullseye, why are you online dating? I mean, what's really wrong with you?

I'm also asked if I would like to be friends with benefits. Could be a good option, but doesn't that mean we have to be friends first? Put that dart away. I'm not in to playing games.

I have been on a couple of meetings - not sure I can call them dates. One man was a year or two older than I. He was a sweet gentleman when we met. You could tell he was nervous, which made me try to be more calm to offset it. We had coffee, put his coat around my shoulders when I was cold, asked permission to give me a kiss at the end of the night. He talked about what he would like to do for our first date and wanted to be sure it was something I would enjoy. We talked for a good three hours through coffee then wine. We talked easily about work, children, his grand kids. He texted me making sure I got home safe. Texted about how great it was to meet me and how he couldn't wait for our date.......... then I never heard from him again. Nothing. Nada. Crickets.

Um, hello?

Of course, then I met a couple of men that as we are messaging back and forth come to realize that they just won't be able to meet my expectations. I get "your so much more sophisticated than me." Or, "you like all that fancy music, I don't think you'll like me because I like country." Or, some other nonsense. "I'm a simple man." That's always a good retort. Ok, my profile has all the music I enjoy and activities I enjoy and all that "sophisticated stuff" that I enjoy. Did you even read what I wrote before connecting with me?

I told myself to hold on until after the new year. I've only be online about 3 weeks. I just don't know how much longer I can put up with this - whatever this is - because it's not "dating."  I was supposed to have met a man last night and he messaged me and chickened out. That's ok I told him. Would you like to reschedule? "No," he tells me, "I don't think I'm ready for you."

Ready for me?

Ready for me?

Ready for me?

I don't get it.

Ready for me as a woman? Ready for me as a new acquaintance? Ready to date? Ready to shower and get out of the house? Ready to remove yourself from behind the computer and go in to the real world where you actually have to socialize and not pretend to be someone you're not so that you can attract people you don't know? Which one?

It was for a drink! We weren't going to get married! No commitment here. Sheesh!

But I guess it did save me an evening. Whatever!

A dear friend says that I need to remain Authentic.  Thank goodness I continue to try, even while online.  Even if I feel uncomfortable sometimes. Even if I get nervous. Because if they can't handle me online, goodness help them when we meet in person!

Another friend told me that I'm better than online dating.

I'm starting to believe her.

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Carmen Garcia writes about stuff... life as a single mother, dating, weight loss, performing, and other random experiences. Sometimes it makes sense. Other times, not so much. You decide.

Online Dating ...Sheesh Part 2

"Oh Lord Help Me!"

~ Carmen

So I've been online dating for a week. Seven days. Monday through Sunday. One full week.  I emphasize the length of time because I have been overwhelmed by fellow online daters wanting to make a connection. Within this time frame I have been inundated with men (at least that what they say they are) that want to meet me. 

And, boy do we have a plethora of characters reaching out to make a "deeper connection" online. 

One went right to the point of messaging me that he wanted to "please and be pleased." Um.... Excuse me? You don't even have a profile picture! I don't care if you say you have a PhD! Are you kidding? 

Next.

Another started off his message with "I didn't realize angels walked on this earth." I really was hoping that I didn't have to deal with cheesy opening lines - now I'm having them messaged to me! Ugh!

Next.

A guy asks, "I love coffee, do you like younger men?" I'm sorry, what? 

Oh please...next!

This gorgeous man (according to his profile pictures) that tells me he's looking for friends. Wonderful, I thought!  Me too!  Great, he responds. How about friends with benefits? WHAT?

Lord! Next!

Then there's the guy that immediately started calling me "my dearest."  "Good morning my dearest." "How is your day, my dearest?" "I'm thinking about you, my dearest." Followed with kiss, heart and rose emojis. For Heaven Sakes!!!  {{{shudder}}} 

Of course, there are all the men that sent a little "meet me" check mark - they don't even try! No message, just a little announcement via the app that says they want to meet me... Most have pictures, many don't. 

I took a deep breath. 

Picked the lesser of all the evils and took a leap. And, as he was the first to ask if we could meet - without the little app - I figured, let's do this. Get the first one out the way. Like a bandaid. 

I know, I know... not the best way to start this endeavor. 

I wasn't looking for anything promising really, anyway. Is it too much to ask for someone to use proper grammar and punctuation? Please no texting shortcuts in an email type message. Oy! Please try a little - a little effort. That's not too much to ask for, is it? 

A friend suggested we speak on the phone first. So we did.  

Oh. My. God.

Not the sharpest tool in the shed. We didn't meet. I just couldn't.

I'm not seeking an Adonis. I'm not seeking a genius. A gentleman, trusting, honest and loving. I would love kind eyes. Someone to have a decent conversation with over a cup of coffee or a glass of wine. 

There's a guy in Denver that has started messaging me. He's the most decent so far. We'll see what happens.

Maybe being single isn't so bad. 

Lord, help me!

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Carmen Garcia writes about stuff... life as a single mother, dating, weight loss, performing, and other random experiences. Sometimes it makes sense. Other times, not so much. You decide.

Dating Profiles - Sheesh!

"I want to be as beautiful as I can be - to myself first. Then to whomever has the sense to see me."
- Maya Angelou

So enough of the procrastinating already! It's been a while since I even mentioned the idea of joining Match.com. Every time we see a commercial for that dating service my daughter will remind me that I said I had a (small, minuscule) interest in joining. "When are you going to do it, mom?" "You said you were going to do it."

Sheesh. Why do I even talk to the kid?

Fine. I started looking in to different dating websites and apps. I asked around and got other women's opinions. And, I finally settled on one. Now, comes the fun part. Entering a description of my soul to entice others to want to click on my profile.

Gotta be honest. Not as fun as I thought it would be. I'm having a hard enough time trying to figure out who I am for myself, let alone who I am to market myself to others. Not to mention that I hate being judged.

After entering the usual - Female seeking Male, Age, Height, and such - I'm staring at the question of size. I'm not athletic. I could be considered Average. I do have a "little extra weight." Am I still BBW (Big Beautiful Woman) - which is shorthand for fat? I stared at my screen for a while on that question. Let's just skip it and come back.

Ok.

What's one word to describe you? Am I Artsy? Adventurous?  Ugh. Next question.

Do you smoke?  No.
Do you want children? No.
Do you own a car?  Yes. But why in the world would you want to know that? And, why do I have an option to "prefer not to respond" to that question?

Even though I have worked in marketing, this marketing of myself seems so odd and foreign to me.

Yes, my parents are living. Yes, they are still married. Yes, they had children. Five of them and I'm the oldest.

Weird. So very weird.

Offer a headline to your profile (ex; You looking for me?) Really? That's the example? "Come on, let's give this a whirl," and "What do you have to lose?" Came to mind.

Ok, let's come back to this one too.

Your First Date. Um, what? It says that the longer my description of a first date, the more likely it will get responses. Well, ok. Can't we just talk? My description isn't going to be that long. Conversation, perhaps over coffee? Done.

But the real kicker and the place where I have gotten stuck the most is in describing me. The site says that people will read both my profile and message when deciding if they should write back. It will be their first impression of me...Talk about myself, it says. My hobbies, my likes, my goals and aspirations. What makes me unique.

What do I say? I want to appear witty. Smart.

I want to be interesting. But I can't find the words. I want to be funny, but everything sounds stale. And it dawns on me - I'm not really all that interesting, am I?

I sought the help of a friend who has gone the dating site route before and she said I should stop "trying and just be."  Be what? I haven't been fit for human consumption for such a long time that I had to take myself off the shelf. Repackaging seems to be working, but the inside is the same. It's old and mushy and confused and scared.

Just be.

Gosh, I don't know how to talk to men anymore. Do I try to impress? Or be?

Writing should be easier, but I feel like I'm about to bait and switch someone once they meet me in person.

My friend suggested that I sleep on it and then write down the first thing that comes to me in the morning when my head is clearer. Problem. I didn't think of anything in the morning.

So, maybe I'm not as ready as I thought I was for this. I think I'll wait for a little while longer until I can find words to describe me.

What would you say? I'd love to know what you think. You'll be like my focus group. Tell me a word that helps describe me to you.

Better yet, do you know any single men that may want to have coffee with a not so BBW, working on athletic, kinda average, short Latina with a slight sense of humor? It would be better than a dating app anyway.

Let's see what comes to mind in the morning.

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Carmen Garcia writes about stuff... life as a single mother, dating, weight loss, performing, and other random experiences. Sometimes it makes sense. Other times, not so much. You decide.

Shedding

"Clutter isn't just in your home, attic, garage or office. Clutter is also in your mind, and distracts you from the amazing things you are meant to do."
- Katrina Mayer

I've gone shopping for clothes a bit more lately. I actually enjoy shopping now. Can't say that I truly enjoyed it much before - having to go out of my way to find Plus-Size stores. Then going through all the clothes that "designers" feel are what big women want. You know, muumuus, small tents, loud designs.

As my clothes hang on me I really do have to purchase new, smaller sized, clothes. And, of course, I have to get rid of the old ones to make room for the new smaller ones. Besides, I'm never, ever going back to that size again. So, why keep them?

I've already donated a lot of clothes, but kept what I could to wear. Now it is time that nothing I have is workable. Ten-plus years of clothes sitting on the front stoop waiting for the donation truck.  Ten-plus years of items that reflected who I was - big, colorful, loud, supposedly stylish. Ten-plus years of work skirts and shirts and jackets and vests and coats. Ten-plus years of jeans, and t-shirts and sweaters. Ten-plus years of sizes 28, 26, XXL, XXXL.

It feels like I'm shedding my skin as I see the piles and piles and bags and bags of clothes to have hauled away.

Shedding my skin has been a new adventure to be sure but it has helped me become real. And, I have found it hasn't stopped at clothes.  I'm shedding what no longer serves me in so many other ways too.

Books
Knick-Knacks
Bad Habits
Thoughts
Actions
Emotions
People

It's amazing the weight being lifted - in more ways than one, obviously.

Are my thoughts clearer without so much baggage? The un-cluttered spaces allowing room for new feelings and positive energy?

Yes! It's freeing. Liberating.

There's a new simplicity now. Even surrounded by counting, planning, chewing with purpose, mindful eating, I feel liberated in a new way.

I can see why snakes do it - what a great feeling to allow for further growth and find new amazing things to do with my life.

Disappearing

"Give light and the darkness with disappear of itself."
- Desiderius Erasmus

"You're disappearing!" a friend said the other day. Of course, it was a compliment to acknowledge the amount of weight I have lost.

But what an interesting reference. Disappearing is not my intended result. In fact, if I'm honest, it's quite the opposite.

I want to be seen, heard, found, acknowledged.

When you're big, it seems easier to disappear. You aren't noticed as much - even though you take up so much more room than other people. People seem to think that larger people are not as smart; dismissed as slow, lazy. We're not, of course. But I can see where that impression can be made.

And, when you are noticed it's for the simple fact that you are big - look at that slob or damn she's huge!

So, it seems that I am now disappearing to be seen. Interesting, isn't it?

I have been complimented often lately. People greet me as I'm walking around. Is it because I'm a smaller size now? Is it my sense of accomplishment on sticking with my plan?  Is it the endorphins that I find when exercising? I now lift my head up more rather than look down when walking. I feel better looking people in the eye when meeting them. I have a bounce to my step and a smile on my face a lot more lately.

So, while my body is disappearing, my confidence is growing.

Take a look at that!

Tiny

"True life is lived when tiny changes occur."
- Leo Tolstoy

I was just called "tiny" this morning by my neighbor.

"Oh my, you're so tiny!" she exclaimed from her porch as I got out of my car.

It startled me. I think I said "thanks," but I'm not quite sure, really.

She continued the conversation by asking, "how many?," referring to how much I have lost. I told her. But the word was still in my head. "Tiny."

I was surprised. Never in my days have I been referred to as "tiny." Not even my feet have been called tiny. My brain can't wrap itself around that description for me. In my head I'm still big.

I told my mom about what was said, and we laughed. Hmmm.

Just as I thought - my being "tiny" is laughable. Silly? Odd? I can't even type the word without using quotation marks. Like it really isn't real. Just an idea.

Is it farfetched that I could possibly be "tiny?"

My neighbor must have felt my disbelief at the word because she said "you do have a small frame."

Ok. That explains it. Right?

It's not my body that's tiny as much; it's that I'm short in stature. That makes more sense, right?

Why can't I accept the word and idea of "tiny?" It's like when a friend I hadn't seen in a long time kept saying how "amazing" I looked.

"You look amazing!" he said.  "Thank you," I replied.  "No, really, you look amazing!" I guess I just didn't look like I believed him. And, perhaps I didn't. "Truly, you look so amazing!" Ok. Ok.

Being tiny or amazing was never on my radar as a goal. Healthy. Comfortable. Happy. Those are my goals.

I've always been called "fat, slob, huge." The words "tiny and amazing" were never in the vocabulary to describe me and my body before. It's going to take some time to switch my thinking in more positive terms.

I'll get there. The tiny changes will be amazing in the long run.

Sweet Motivation

"It doesn't matter how slowly you go, as long as you don't stop."

- Anonymous

I'm not a runner. Never have been. And, while I was bigger I wasn't even what you'd call a walker. Point is, I never really moved much.

But, now that I'm actually walking and moving and making sure my Fitbit marks every step I take, I figure it's time for my next big step (pun most definitely intended).

A 5K!

And, not just any 5K - the Hot Chocolate 5K. After all, I need some motivation! Sweet motivation at that!

Now, don't get me wrong - I'm still not going to run. I'll walk fast(ish), but I've never been a runner. Perhaps one day. But that will take more training time than what I have for the December 11 event date. Figured finishing, no matter how quickly, is the important thing. Slow doesn't matter, as long as I don't stop.

Heck, I'm still going to have to do some training to walk the 5K. My daughter and I are going to do this together.

I'll welcome the time we have as we train for the event. I can already hear our conversations as we walk. I'm looking forward to it. Hope she will too.

Gotta tell ya, I'm rather proud of myself for just signing up! And, proud of my kid for offering to do this with me. Guess that's half the battle. One step forward.

Anyone else want to join in on the fun?

Becoming Average

"People say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I say that the most liberating thing about beauty is that you are the beholder."

- Selma Hayak

Amazing how you feel when you're heavy, obese, huge - just plain fat - what ever you want to call it, when you're out and about. Heck, when you're alone at home too - it doesn't feel so great.

Having lost 78 pounds now, my body has transformed in a myriad of ways. I feel great. Move well. Less tired. And, actually am starting to feel, well, pretty.

What's best, however, I am now closer to average size jeans.

Yes. I am now a size 16. I don't think I've been a size 16 since high school! Gotta tell ya - it feels fucking great! I never realized that a size 16 would be one of my goals through this journey.

Weird how you can feel happy about being average. I'm neither above or below - just average.

Studies have said that the average American woman is a size 14 (no matter what Victoria Secret thinks). And, thank goodness for hashtags like #curvy because Lord knows I'll never be stick straight. So is my final goal a 14? Or do I go toward a number on the scale instead? Or do I just go until I feel like I'm happy?

Yep. Until I'm happy. Although I'm pretty happy now that I'm feeling better.

And, I'm in a size 16 jeans. I have trendy, boyfriend distressed jean!

If I'm happy now... Boy, can't imagine how happy I'll feel when I'm down to a 14!

Dia de los Muertos

"The border between the dead and the living, if you're Mexican, doesn't exist. The dead are part of your life...That's why there's Day of the Dead."

- Sandra Cisneros

October brings about the start of the holiday season around here.

The air is cooler. We begin to think of all the family gatherings coming up through New Years. Halloween of course is the first of a stream of those gatherings. And, unfortunately, this will be the first holidays without my sister.

She pops up in my thoughts so much. While I'm driving and I hear a song on the radio. While I'm watching a movie and remember her odd movie or tv show quotes she would recite. While I'm at the grocery store and realize that they now have Halloween Egg Nog - damn, she made the best egg nog cookies!

And, it makes me realize how much I miss her and I start to cry. Right there in the dairy section of the grocery store.

Immediately following Halloween, for us, comes Dia de Los Muertos. For those unfamiliar, it's a Mexican custom where we celebrate the life of those that have gone before us. It's a celebratory view of life and death. We don't fear death. We mock it, dare it, thumb our nose up to it. That's why you see so many calaveras (skeletons) dancing and singing.

Of course, when it hits so close to home, however, we hate it, loathe it, recoil from it for coming in to our lives and snatching someone so dear. At least that is true for me.

This year, along with the photos of our grandparents and uncles and aunts on our ofrenda (our alter), will sit a photo of my sister Tish. Staring at us with her lovely, huge smile. Her bright eyes. I swear I can feel her with me.

For Dia de Los Muertos our ofrenda will have some items that are favorites of our departed - drinks, candies, fruit, bread - to welcome them back for the couple of days it is said they come to visit. And while I would wish for a visit from my sister, I hope she is actually in a peaceful place with her feet up relaxing for a change. Without a care, without pain, without worry.

I feel her with me all the time anyway. It's as if she really isn't gone. Almost as if she is on vacation and I'll get to hear all her stories when she returns. She'll laugh loudly and tell us of her adventures. What she ate. What she saw.

But, we'll be ready for her and the rest of our departed family and friends if they do decide to come for a visit on Dia de los Muertos - All Souls Day and All Saints Day.

We'll sit around the fire pit as we have in years past on Halloween, handing out candies to the trick or treaters as they come by. And, thinking of how much we miss my Tishy. And, how much more fun it would be if she were with us in person and not just in spirit.

She is part of our lives. She always will be.

Learning Something New

"One sure-fire way to stay Creative: force yourself to learn something new."
-Harvey Mackay

My new ukulele. Isn't she pretty?

And, she is so much fun!

I have issues with my left hand. I have had spinal fusion surgery to help repair some vertebrae that were pinching some nerves. Unfortunately, it didn't repair my hand completely, so it was left weak and on fire all the time because it lacks circulation. I know... good times.

I do some squeeze ball exercises to help my hand and sometimes sleep with a brace to help relax it. It still hurts.

My wonderful, creative friend has taken up playing the ukulele and shared how to play a few chords with me. It was so stinking fun! I loved it. My daughter has a ukulele and I hear her playing it all the time. She also has two guitars and a cello, but the uke is so small and easy to grab. It's just cute.

She didn't really let me play on her uke very often. So, I got on Amazon and purchase a uke of my own.  Oh my gosh!

My hand hurts if I play too long, but it is so much fun learning new songs that I don't really mind it too much. Trying to remember the chords takes practice - but hey, what doesn't take practice?

I wanted to find a way to be creative. This is one wonderful way to do so. I am so grateful to my friend for insisting that I try his ukulele and teaching me those first few chords.

I'm not necessarily saying that my weight loss helped me make the decision to purchase and learn to play a ukulele, but it certainly made the action come much more quickly. I don't know if I would have been "brave" enough to jump in to something new in this way if I am not more open to new experiences with this journey.

Either way - Learning something new is exhilarating! Just wait for my first performance on Ulleli, my Ukulele!

I know. I'm a dork and named my uke!

Fear and Limits

"Never say never, because limits, like fear, are often an illusion."
- Michael Jordan

Do I fear my limitations or do limits cause my fear?

When I was 75 pounds heavier I knew my motion was limited. I knew I had to baby my knee. I knew I fell often because I couldn't stabilize my legs. I couldn't cross my legs, couldn't walk more than to the mailbox, couldn't walk without pain.

My main exercise immediately out of surgery - and I mean as soon as I woke up from the anesthesia - was walking. Up and down the hallways I went. Over and over again.  I couldn't do much or go far, but walk I did.

When I got home I was told I had to work up to walking 30 minutes a day. Were they kidding me? I can't even walk for 2 minutes, let alone 30! I thought I would die.

My knees hurt so bad. My legs wobbled under me. But I started by walking around my dining room table. A few times around and I had had enough. And, I walked so slowly...

Last year I went with a friend to see her son play soccer for Summit. If any of you have gone to Summit for a soccer game you know that the field is at the very end of Summit's property. I swear it is all downhill to get there; which of course, means it is completely uphill to get back.

My friend warned me about the walk and distance. I was frightened. I knew my limit and I knew I wouldn't make it with just her description of where I needed to go.  When I went to see him play I actually drove to the field. Now, they don't really allow folks to drive down to the field without permission as there are limited handicapped spaces there. But, I borrowed my folks car with their handicap tag and I drove. My limits and fears had me absolutely certain I couldn't make it there to see him.

As I drove to the field I remember thinking - no way I would have been able to walk down here! Much less walk all the way back. No Way! Never!

I use to think that way about a lot of things. Did you see that yoga pose? No way I can do that! How many squats? No way I can handle that many! I need to move how? Never! Get a grip!

But it was me that needed to get a grip. Yes. I did have limits. And, yes, my fear of my limits kept me from doing many things. Or, was it my perceived limits that caused my fear?

Either way. No more!

I did walk. Around the dining room table. Then I made my way to up the street. Then, down and around the cul de sac around the corner. Then down to the bottom of our hill and back up again. Soon I was at the gym on a treadmill walking for a good 30 - 45 minutes straight. I'm going a couple miles at a time now and working toward a 5K. No limits. No fear.

As I have walked and lost weight my fear of movement has diminished. I don't have to steady myself on my feet every time I stand up from a chair or get out of my car. I don't have to drive around a parking lot to find a closer spot to the door. I'm not having to hold on to a grocery cart to buy two things at the grocery store. And, I can walk all the way down and back up to and from the school's parking lot to the soccer field at Summit.

You can't imagine the thrill I felt when I got back to the car and I wasn't really breathing heavy.

My limits and fears were in my head. Just an illusion that kept me from doing so many things.

I am conquering my fear and limits. One step at a time.

I just got cleared for weight training. I remember seeing a cross-fit boot camp...that sounds like fun!

Never say never.

Being Authentic

"To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson


Authenticity.

I find it fascinating that the topic of authenticity among women has been trending a lot more lately. It's been a topic of conversation for a long while now, but it's been everywhere I've looked these past weeks.

Guess it makes sense. Women seem like they have to be something else for everyone else that we forget who we really are. In business, in social settings, in life and in political circles these days.

HRC spoke about this in a Humans of New York Facebook post recently. She had to change her demeanor to protect herself when in law school. Women have learned from a young age they must be smart, but not too smart. Vocal, but not too vocal. And as a commenter mentioned, quiet, but not too quiet. Pretty, but not too pretty.

Where does it stop?

When we are authentic, standing up for ourselves, seeking what we desire, folks see us as bitches, or call us bossy. Doesn't seem fair. When a man does the same, they are seen as strong.

Strong women are seen as villains, divas, princesses. Yet strength is what we have to have day in and day out. No matter the circumstances.

How do you walk this line?

I'm trying so hard to be authentic. I've talked about that before in my blog. Trying to find myself - my true self - through this journey. Shedding this outer layer of protection and exposing this inner layer of truth. But this is a daily lesson I'm finding hard to truly learn and become.

I found out a while ago that a dear one of mine was dealing with so much pain inflicted by another for far too long that I question who my dear one really was. It was hard to understand, hard to fathom, hard to accept. So strong on the outside - out of necessity (?) - but knowing what was happening on the inside was devastating to learn. Especially since we didn't know to help after the fact.

Who was the authentic self? Where was such strength coming from to deal with so much pain? Why allow this to be the norm for so long and loose that authentic self? Why give yourself completely in such a way?

I look at that life as a gift. A lesson for living my life authentically. A reminder to never give so much of yourself, lose yourself, give your power away, hide yourself through life for others.

I am finding who I am.

At 75 pounds lost I am still finding me. My true voice. My true purpose. Finding enjoyment in each day. Matching my outer expression with inner experience. Being true to myself. Not hiding anymore.

Live each day authentically and all is well.

Naked

"Out of your vulnerabilities will come your strength."
- Sigmund Freud

When you're large you really don't want to expose much of your skin. I mean...who wants to see that?  Even by losing 65 pounds, I'm still a large woman with a large woman mindset. I have been trying to wear different clothes that are more clingy, less fabric, and more exposed. I gotta tell ya - it doesn't feel great. Nor does it feel "normal." At least for me.

It's hot outside this week. I had a meeting with my friend/client and knew we were going to be working all day. I put on a sleeveless sundress over a sports bra and took a deep breath. You know how much I hate the loose skin on my arms. I don't care how often I say they are wings, they don't help me fly to high. But, I'm pushing myself in to new things. Exploring my vulnerability.

I walked up the stairs and started to get ready to leave. I was determined to feel good in my skin and in this dress. I was doing well until my mother, God love her, asked if I was going to put on a jacket. "Aren't you cold?" she asked in her passive/aggressive loving way.

It's going to be in the 90's today. So, no. I'm not cold.

"You may want to put something on," she continued with clearer meaning, "that doesn't really look nice."

Gee thanks mom.

No, I'm fine. I left.

And, the entire drive to my friend's house my mom's voice was in my head. I'm 57 years old, damnit, she shouldn't be living in my head anymore.

Of course, I'm already vulnerable. Her saying something before I left the house didn't help.

I kept thinking how exposed I was as I stopped at lights along the way. What are people looking at when they glance in my direction? Oh my, did I feel naked!

The voice in my head got so bad I buckled. I stopped at Target to buy a white t-shirt to go under the dress. I know. Silly.

For as much confidence as I have started to claim, it got shaken with just one comment. Stupid! I continued to argue with myself as I purchased the shirt and got to the car. I'm never going to feel comfortable in my skin if I allow others to tell me how to feel comfortable in my skin.

This after I had an evening in a beautiful new clingy dress at a fundraiser over the weekend and receiving so many compliments of how good I looked. Why was this day any different?

I have to stop listening to the large woman in my head (or the mother commenting when I leave the house) and stepping in to a smaller woman shown on the outside. I'm no longer a size 28. I'm no longer an XXL. I do have some loose skin - alright, a bit more than "some," but I'm not looking so bad. I have to celebrate what I have achieved so far.

Vulnerability is so hard to walk in to. Vulnerability exposes you - more than just your arms and legs in a sundress. However, if I don't allow myself to feel vulnerable, truth and courage will never come to fruition. It's uncomfortable. It's messy. It's not fun. But necessary.

I left the shirt in the bag and will be returning it on the way home.

Vulnerability is strength.

I will be strong.

Born Again

"Each morning you are born again. What we do today is what matters most."
- Jack Kornfield

Weight loss is an interesting thing. Tomorrow is an unknown - to a certain extent. But there are things that are certain.

I know I have to drink a ton of water. I know I have to eat a certain amount of protein. I know I have to eat enough calories each day. I know I have to exercise.

Each day is new. Each day holds new promise. But each day is still a routine.

I can genuinely say I have been depressed in my past. The weight and lack of movement didn't help. Feeling useless or unloved was hard to deal with. Not knowing what my future held for me or my daughter left me with sleepless nights.  But, most especially, when my sister passed away. That was depressing. Honestly, I haven't really gotten past losing my sister. Of course, that will never really go away. That's something that I will have to learn to live with - or, actually live without.

True, I haven't yet determined what my path will be moving forward. Just that it includes meal planning and exercise for continued success. But, for the first time in a long time I'm at peace with that. It doesn't have me anxious knowing that I don't have a path.

I was learning and experiencing and discovering so many new things about me and my life when I started this journey that it seems pretty boring now that I'm on some kind of autopilot. Perhaps that's a good thing.

Although discovering how I can walk much further than I have ever been able to before is pretty sweet. And, how I am at my lowest weight since college is very nice. And, I've discovered that I have much more stamina than ever is a wonderful thing. So maybe I do have more discoveries.

What I do today - eat right, move more, love more, laugh more - matters most.

I am not depressed.

Nor am I anxious.

I am present.

Each new day is a rebirth.

I wish that for everyone. I've discovered it's a great place to be and I will ride this as far as I can.

Update:
62.5 pounds lost!

Toxic

"Letting toxic people go is not an act of cruelty, it's an act of self-care."
- Unknown

One thing that weight loss and a healthy lifestyle has provided me is that I am much stronger than I have ever been - physically, of course, but mentally as well.

I've never really taken shit from many people, but I have also always been there for the someone in need. There's a fine line there somewhere. I hate giving up on someone that needs help. Especially if there is a good reason, like mental illness or severe depression. Those are the ones that need help the most. How can I possibly not help if they are in such desperate need of support and assistance?  I can be taken advantaged of given the right circumstance. Especially when the person in need is someone that was very close to a dear person of mine. I want to help because of them.

But, what if they refuse help? Or refuse to get help?

I now have a much healthier respect for myself to continue to battle for someone else's stability if they refuse to help themselves.

While I realize that there are very good (and clinical) reasons for a person's behavior, I refuse to let that influence who I am or how I will handle situations. I know that I am only responsible for myself and those that are the dearest to me. And, I can do away with anyone that doesn't respect who I am or those around me. Or refuses to get the help they so desperately require for a peaceful life in their own right.

And, I am in a much better mental place - having more confidence, and more self-respect than I have in the past. Which makes it all the more reason to let them go.

It makes me sad to cut that person from my life. But, my life is too precious to continue dealing with a form of insanity that is so unhealthy for so many.

Eating clean and exercising has it benefits - I've lost a tremendous amount of weight in a short amount of time. But the other benefits of having a clearer mind and taking control of my life in all its forms - exercise, outlook, future - is a powerful thing. I see the damage that others can control if you allow them to. I do not allow that to be in my life or that of my daughter's any longer.

I cannot let them define me, confine me, or refine me as they have to another person so very dear to me for so long. It breaks my heart, but I must do what my dear one could never - I will leave them behind me and I choose to move on.

I just have to remember, it is not an act of cruelty. It's an act of self-love. And, in this case, self-preservation.

Suspended

“I have come to accept the feeling of not knowing where I am going. And I have trained myself to love it. Because it is only when we are suspended in mid-air with no landing in sight, that we force our wings to unravel and alas begin our flight.”
― C. JoyBell C.

I have met up with a few people that hadn't seen me in a while. Feels good to be told how good I look. But after a little while the conversation makes its way to the question, how much do you want to lose? Or, what's your goal? Or, how many more pounds?

Truthfully, I'm not sure.

I know when I started I felt that a good 100 pounds would be good to lose. That would get me in to a "normal" range. I've never really felt "normal" about anything - let alone my weight.

There was a certain amount of acceptance I felt about my weight. I had come to accept my size when I was big, without really realizing I had. Perhaps that's not the right term. Perhaps it was more defeat than acceptance.

I've known I had to "do something" about my health and weight for some years now, but never could get a grip on... what? Myself? My thoughts? My future? Ok. I just couldn't get a grip. Period.

It wasn't until my sister was diagnosed with cancer that I knew I really had to do something. It wasn't so much a feeling or a recognition, it was more of a push. I finally felt like the saying I once saw - "I didn't know rock bottom had a basement!" I had gotten to the basement.

So, when I'm asked "how much more?" I really don't know.

I don't want to be corny and say "the sky's the limit!" But, I also don't want to give it a definitive number. If I give it a number will I be happy when I get there? Sure, I'll be happy I reached a goal, but quite honestly, getting started on this journey and actually making it through right now is something to be really proud of. It's a heck of a goal already.

No. I think my goal is to be healthy. I've never really been healthy before. Sure, high school while I was a cheerleader and actually being active everyday. But that was just one year.

When I face-planted on the metal window sill and fractured my nose I had to have a CTScan. They discovered that I had had a mild stroke sometime in my past. I went to see my doctor. She had me take an MRI. (I hate those by the way.) She told me that it was very common for these mild strokes to occur without being noticed - especially given my health history.

Excuse me - what?

My high cholesterol, my out of control diabetes, my high blood pressure, my enormous weight - all contributed to this mild stroke. No. I was not at all healthy. I was going about my business of being huge and getting huger (is that a word?).  It really shouldn't have surprised me. I guess it's because I never felt a thing. I had gotten accustomed to being big.

But now I want to get accustomed to being healthy! No. I don't know what my goal is. I don't know where I'm going, per se. I just know I am heading in the right direction now.

This is a new feeling of freedom. I am spreading my wings and beginning to soar to a new level of living I hadn't had since - well that one year in high school. And, it's about time.

Men and Mojo

"Some people want to fill the world with silly loves songs. What's wrong with that? I need to know."
- Paul McCartney

A friend asked me earlier today if I was ready to join Match.com.

Um. No, was my answer.

Her response? Soon?

Um. No, was my answer.

I told her that it scares me just thinking about the possibility of dating again. Gosh, its been so, so, so very long since I went out with anyone. The idea alone send shivers down my spine.

She reminded me about what I have posted - the confidence building, strength rising, standing up for myself.

I told her to shut up. Stop throwing my own words in my face.

Then I told her how much I loved her. Because I do. She's a wonderful friend who keeps me motivated when I need it and always has my back.

And, it also got me to thinking. How do I find that mojo again? I've been huge for so long, my mind is still huge. How will I project a different, new and improved me, when I don't know really who that "me" is yet?

How will I take someone on the rest of this journey? Because I'm so not done yet.

A part of me says I'm ready! Then, the other part of me says, "What the hell are you thinking?"

It's scary.

I'm already vulnerable as I continue to shed layers of myself (literally and figuratively). Who will I be when I hit my goal? How will I have to live to maintain my new weight? What will my daily life be when I get to where I believe I am going? And, is it the journey or the destination that I want someone to join me in? Can I release enough of me to allow someone else in?

I'm a caretaker. Always have been. Will someone new in my life take over my life? But I need to be selfish to continue this path.

I know I don't want to be lonely. But I fear having someone in my life. How's that for being messed up?

Then I think - I'm overthinking. And, my head hurts.

I use to have tons of mojo. And a few men. I've lost both it seems.

I just got to keep looking. I'm sure it will show up somewhere.

No, I'm not ready for Match.com - but if you know anyone who likes short, semi-round, young acting Mexican in her 50's, let me know.

Life Hits Hard

"Sometimes life knocks you on your ass...get up, get up, get up!!! Happiness is not the absence of problems, it's the ability to deal with them."
- Steve Maraboli

I've been rather absent minded lately. To be honest I've been thinking about my sister. Going through the motions of life. Got in to a rut of sorts with my diet - even after making a promise to make a meal plan.

These last couple of days have been about driving my kiddo to her musical performance, hanging around the theater, volunteering and then taking her out with her friends after. Coming home. Getting up and doing it again.

Don't get me wrong, I love being in the theater. I truly enjoy watching my daughter having so much fun on stage and with her friends. It warms my heart.

I have a great time talking with the other parents. It's fun making new friends. But, I realized that while the other parents are there when they need to be, I'm around the theater all the time.

Of course, I had to realize this in a very painful way.

While I was at the theater for the fifth show in a six show run, I decided not to watch the show again. I stayed out at the Will Call table at the entrance of the theater contemplating my life. I was basically alone sitting there - which was fine with me being the semi-introvert I am. A young tech kid came out taking a break and saw a spider and said I really needed to see it. So I got up.

And, I tripped.

You should see the other guy!

And, I went flying nose first in to the metal window frame. It hurt like hell! Blood everywhere.

So embarrassing. So painful.

So pretty.

Four hours in the ER really helps you to contemplate your life.

What I came up with is that I need to GET a life. Outside of my parents. Outside of my daughter. Outside of my siblings. I need my own life. It's a recurring theme, I know. I've said this a few times already. But perhaps this tumble finally jarred something in me.

I went to my primary physician. I have a fractured nose. But everything else is wonderful.

As I mentioned before, my cholesterol is great, my blood sugar is great, my blood pressure is great. This surgery has helped me get healthier. I can enjoy my life. So what am I waiting for? The want is there, but the movement toward it is not. I feel the need to do something, but I remain stagnant.

I'm finally exercising. So I am going out and doing something for myself. That's good. But there's still something missing.

The other evening Isa rehearsed with her duet partner. I sat and chatted with his dad. The dad and I have become good friends too.  He's a very talented and creative person and he is constantly "doing" - writing songs, plays, ideas. Always creating and using his talents. He taught me a couple of chords on the ukulele. And, I realized how much I miss being creative. I miss singing. I miss theater.

He asked me to pen a song with him. And, while it scared me a bit, I believe it would be good to stretch myself. Start small in the creative sense. And, I love him for asking me to help.

So, perhaps life does need to knock you on your head sometimes before you realize what the next step needs to be. It had to knock the wind out of my sails to get me to this point. Why does the next step need to be any different?

I may bump in to things, but hey, at least I am walking in the right direction.

Comparisons

"There is no comparison.

- Jim Silver

I know better than to try to compare myself to others. Women are so "programmed" to compare ourselves to each other I have learned long ago to not do that.

Lately, I just can't help myself.

Especially right now. It's hard to figure out what I really look like. I still feel huge. Doesn't matter what shows up in the mirror. Or the changes I see when my buddy takes photos of my "afters" each month. But I still try to size up what I look like in comparison with others.

I see other women and think, "do my hips look that size?" "Does my booty look that large?" "Is my waist that big?"

I know...doesn't make sense. But even with the before and after photos I have no real concept of what I look like. Especially to others.

So, when I'm in a large crowd I look around.

My daughter is in a musical production that opened this past weekend. The theater hall has a wall of windows. At dark you can see reflections of those standing in the lobby.

I went to stand in line for the women's restroom and I did what I always seem to do - look around at everyone waiting for the show to commence.

I thought to myself - boy, I can't wait until I am that size or if I could look good in a dress like that. Then I saw someone in the reflection of the windows. I like how that outfits looks on her. I'd like to be there soon.

Wait a minute!

That's me!

Whaaaaat?

I was astonished. I didn't look half bad. I have a long way to go, don't get me wrong, but I'm happy with my progress so far!

It was interesting. After laughing at what had just happened, I took a nice sigh of relief. Almost like, OK, now I could believe it.

Even after the photos that do show changes. Even after having to get smaller clothes. Even seeing the changes on the scale, I don't know why I couldn't really allow myself to believe that I looked decent.

I keep telling myself that I have to find peace and happiness where I am. To find joy in the moment and how I look as I am transforming. I have been so large for so long that it's that size that I am most connected to. It is how people have seen me and therefore, how I saw myself.

Then...

A friend posted a memory on Facebook. Back to 2013 - just three years ago. I couldn't believe my eyes! The round person - round face, round belly - in that picture was me. The change was palpable.

I had to take a new photo to see the difference.

So, it seems, I now find myself in a new situation. I'm starting to compare myself to me.

My current self to the old self.

Weird and wonderful.

Just had to share...

Patience is a Virtue

"No great thing is suddenly created."
- Epictetus

Patience is a virtue. Patience is not easy to achieve. I really don't have much patience for being such a laid back type of person. But, I know that patience is what is needed most on this journey.

It has been a test of my patience these past few days. You see, I have been on a 50 pound loss stall.

Ugh!

Now, I don't get on the scale everyday. That's just silly. But I do step on at least once a week to see my progress. Unfortunately, the last couple of weeks have shown a two pound gain (WTF?) and then ... nothing!

And, another week... nothing!

I understand that my body is going through a tremendous change. I'm smart enough to know that I must have patience with my progress. I get that I have to make changes to my food plan as I exercise more. I get it. But, dang, it's hard to see the scale and not get discouraged because it's not going back down!

Surgery is just a tool. I really am the one that has to do the work. Surgery helps you stay on track because you can't handle the amount of food you did at one time. You also can't have all the fatty and sugary foods you once had eaten because your pouch will not accept it very well.

Surgery forces you to make the necessary changes to lose your weight and regain your health. So I embraced the changes.

As I mentioned, the doctor says that the first 6 months is all about the surgery. You don't even need to try too hard and the weight will come off. It's after those initial 6 months that will really require you to have to work to make sure you don't regain and that you continue to lose. So, I have to make the most of these first 6 months. If I help it along at the beginning I can, essentially, lose a bit easier.

I've told you that I have lost 50 pounds in 2.5 months. Wonderful stuff! But, I thought I would just keep losing.

No one told me about the stalls. I really should have been smart enough to know there would have to be stalls.

I'm losing weight so quickly that my body has to catch up with the rest of me. My hormones are changing. My muscles are out of whack.  Everything is trying to catch up.

I've been persistent with my plan. Eating right. Tracking my calories and protein and water and vitamins. But it's hard to not to lose patience when you've seen such huge changes so quickly. It's hard not to be discouraged when you see weight gain rather than weight loss. It's hard not to want to rush things when you're hitting the gym several times a week and come out sweating like a pig!

I realize it took years to gain all this weight - even with surgery it will take time to lose it.

Although, "lose" is really the wrong term.  I have no intention of ever "finding" this weight again!

So, I've come to realize stalls are going to be necessary. It is the time your body needs to get readjusted to your weight loss and the changes in your body. And, that's ok.

I stepped on the scale again this morning...

Lost 5.5 pounds. The two that I gained and an additional 3.5!

Patience + Persistence + Perspiration = Success!

Just got to keep pushing. And, move on to tomorrow.


Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow
Fleetwood Mac

Fear vs Hope

"Fear less, hope more, 
eat less, chew more,
whine less, breathe more,
talk less, say more,
hate less, love more,
and good things will be yours."
Swedish proverb

I'm hungry. I hate that I feel hunger again.

It scares me.

I feel out of balance. I feel out of whack. I'm scared I'll over eat or eat when I'm not supposed to eat or eat the wrong things.

Hunger is a natural feeling. I shouldn't fear it. But fear I do. I fear hunger.

But I have another fear now as well. I fear for our communities. Our neighborhoods. Our nation. There is a hunger there as well. A hunger to be understood. A hunger to be accepted. A hunger for peace and justice and equality and compassion. And, I fear we can't seem to grasp that we are all one people. We all hunger for acceptance and love.

Unfortunately, there is also a hunger for hate, intolerance, violence, injustice and revenge.

We can't allow fear of difference - color, race, religion, class, weight, size, gender, nationality - take over our humanity. Where a love for guns is seen as more important than love for humankind. Where we prefer to wallow in our hate and fear and revenge rather than peace and acceptance and understanding. So much hate.

I don't get it.

We know what it feels like first hand. Members of our family have been targets of racism and intolerance.

I've always been different. I've been large all my life. I'm first generation Mexican-American. I speak two languages. I'm a single mother. Each of those things have made me a target of one sort or another. Being followed in a store. Being looked at funny or laughed at or ridiculed. Been insulted for being a single mother. Been teased for being large. Asked racist questions because of my heritage. Or, the time when friends came to visit and the police were called to my house because my house guests were Mexican. The police had to come in to my house and look around to feel satisfied that us Mexicans weren't doing anything illegal. They had gotten a couple of calls from the neighbors. True story.

Or my daughter. She was in a select group in middle school called "Social Justice," where students of different races (white, hispanic, asian, African-American) were taught kindness and tolerance. Where they were taught what bigotry and racism and bullying and equality meant. Yet, while in class my daughter would endure "Mexican baby jokes" or taunts about her size or color or curly hair. Some of those doing the bullying were white kids in the group. What did they learn?

Or my dad. My father was stopped driving while brown by police. It's a real thing folks...A cop who egged him and disrespected him and yelled at him and demeaned him and insulted him. Never really told my dad why he was stopped. He just kept yelling at my dad.

My father sat there and took it. Even though he has been an American citizen longer than he ever was Mexican, he had to endure the police officer's insults. Because he knew, one wrong word, one wrong move could have resulted in something much worse than a ticket. At the end of it all the cop let him go with just a warning... to drive better. My dad drove home to his family.

So many, it seems, are not as lucky. And, we are learning more and more that it happens more and more.

I just don't get it.

What are we doing to each other?

People putting lines in the sand. Either you are Black Lives Matter or All Lives Matter or Blue Lives Matter. It's not either or. It's not us or them. It's not black or white or brown or yellow. Yet, we have politicians that want to make it us or them so we can all run scared of each other with distrust. Or run toward each other with guns and fists and pipe bombs and riot gear.

I'm a person of color. To me Black Lives Matter right now because we have to place focus where it is needed. But it doesn't mean that All Lives don't Matter. It just means we have to put energy where it should be until things are righted. It could just as well be Brown Lives Matter because whatever minority is out there seems to be targeted in one way or another.

It doesn't mean Blues Lives don't Matter.  I hate the violence against officers as much as I hate the violence perpetrated by officers. There are so many dedicated first responders that do their jobs well and watch over everyone no matter where they come from or what they look like. Unfortunately, there are those that hide their hatred behind their badge. And their gun.

I just don't get any of it.

At the end of the day we all need each other. At the end of the day we need to have change for the better. How many lives must be lost?

Yes, I do feel hunger. I hunger for a day when we can all just get along. Love our neighbor. Be kind to one another.

I hunger for hope, for love.

Hope is Stronger than Fear.

Love can conquer Hate.

I repeat the Swedish proverb I used above with one change:

Fear less, hope more,
Eat less, chew more,
Whine less, breathe more,
Talk less, say more,
Hate less, Love more,
And good things will be OURS.


What the World Needs Now
Broadway for Orlando

It's Time

"Time is growing short. There are unexplored adventures ahead of you. You were made to live and love with your whole heart. It's time to show up and be seen."
- Brené Brown

Performers need to be seen. Odd that I chose to be an actress and singer as a profession when I'm really an introvert at heart.

I play a good game, don't get me wrong. I laugh and smile with the best of them. People think I'm outgoing and an extrovert. When it was time to network, boy did I network. But inside? All I wanted to do was shrink in to a corner.

When I was on stage I didn't realize how much of another persona I took on. Much like Beyoncé's Sasha Fierce, just a ton more subdued, less of a risk taker and not as talented.

But, my so-called talent at the time helped me move forward with my career. I seemed to make folks take notice when I sang or acted - so it helped. When I left that life and came home I wasn't sure what to do with myself. I didn't know how to stand up for me or how to stand out anymore. I didn't know how to be seen. So, I hid.

It was easier. It was safer. I didn't have to try anymore.

And, I got good at it.  I hid behind a tremendous amount of weight. I let food become my friend. Kinda felt alone for a long while. Inadequate.

Seems like I lived having my life float past me. Just kind of standing on the corner bus stop watching busses go by and not really stepping on one to see where it could take me. I lost my mojo, if you will.

Here I am at 57. Not sure if this is an "official" midlife (I don't know too many 114 year olds), but in terms of adult development, midlife seems about right for me. Kind of in a "get your act together, Garcia," kind of way!

I saw this quote by Brené Brown. She said, "I think midlife is when the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear: I'm not screwing around. It's time. All of this pretending and performing - these coping mechanisms that you've developed to protect yourself from feeling inadequate and getting hurt - has to go."

Well, that hit home.

My dear friend and client has also been helping. She has taught me to stand tall, find my way, find my courage and confidence. Shed the layers that are no longer working for me and step in to my true self. She's been awesome. Reminding me to always center myself, be seen, and hold my head high. Love her for that! Straight up encouragement when I need it.

Tish also helped me realize that it was time to get on that bus and find my mojo again. Not to mention that I have to show my daughter what a strong and courageous woman looks like.

It's time to be seen and heard. Shedding the layers, peeling away the weight, stepping in to the sunlight. My daughter will see that even in midlife there's a lot of life left to have unexplored adventures. I'm tired of feeling inadequate. I'm me. No more screwing around.

My daughter can see that you need to grab the universe by the shoulders and not the other way around. And for her not to waste time doing so.

It's time. I'll show her the way.


Live High, Live Mighty
Jason Mraz

Thankful

"All we have is all we need. All we need is the awareness of how blessed we really are."
- Sarah Ban Breathnach


You guys are amazing!

Really. The support, love and comments I receive through this blog have been so inspiring. You keep me strong. You keep me straight. You've helped me through some tough times and have become cheerleaders when I had small victories.

Most importantly, you listened.

I am blessed.

When I had the weight loss surgery I was reluctant to tell anyone. Silly, I know. But it is such a personal journey. Besides, who the hell would care?

Then I realized that if I don't make it public, I won't be able to keep myself accountable and on track. Going through this and telling you about it helps me. Of course, I was going to keep it simple. Just a few words here and there.

But, now? This blog has become part journal, part confessional, part blabbering. And, you've stuck with me.

With each blog entry it has helped me tremendously to unload my feelings, celebrate accomplishments and stay honest. You read, and commented, and celebrated with me. You allowed me to shed tears and speak about my sister and helped me through it. You lifted me up. You listened.

Thank you.

Our family - if you haven't already figured out - is very close and supportive of each other. It's an amazing feeling to have such love around me all the time. And, to know that if there is something I need my family will be there to help. Especially when my sister needed us. We surrounded her with love. We do that for each other, always. They do that for me now.

Add to that your amazing support and encouragement! I appreciate you guys more than you can ever imagine. It's humbling to know you are reading all this goofiness and cheering me on.

Truly you all are amazing. And, you make me feel amazing knowing you are there.

I am thankful.

Thankful
Jonny Lang

Somethings Just Don't Change

"There is a thin line between confidence and arrogance. It's called humility. Confidence smiles. Arrogance smirks."
- Unknown

Skin is an interesting thing.

I've gained and lost and gained and lost so much weight throughout my life that my skin was flabby to begin with prior to surgery. Being on this weight loss journey has only intensified the flabbiness. As most people know when you lose weight quickly (like 50 pounds in 2.5 months) your skin doesn't have time to snap back in to place, as it were. It pretty much just swings there - especially under your arms.

I'm just going to say it. It's not pretty. Not by a long shot.

I've never been vain. I was always told that I had a pretty face. "What pretty eyes." "What great hair." "What a lovely smile." "Gee, you'd be really hot if you lost some weight!"

Yeah? Bite me.

No matter how pretty people think you are, you can't be vain when you're reminded of your size all the time.

I know I project a sense of confidence. Even if it is an act most of the time rather than real. And, I never let my weight stop me from doing what I wanted to do. That is, until my weight kept me from doing the things I wanted to do because it was physically difficult to do them. But, never because of my size when I physically could. And, I didn't feel odd about being a larger woman riding a bike or hiking a trail.

But, now? I began to feel rather self-conscious of my flappy arms. It's summer and it's hot and I want to wear a tank top or a swim suit. Yikes! How in the world will I make that happen with these flaps of skin hanging from my upper arms? Ugh! What will people say?

Then, the thought hit me: Why do I feel the need to please others by covering up my arms - or my flabby legs for that matter? It use to bother me when people would give me those negative compliments. But screw 'em! I don't have to please anyone. I don't need their approval!

As I have said before, this surgery was for me. So, these flappy arms? Well, they are for me too.

I realized that these flabby things signify weight loss success. A testament to all the work I have put in these past few months.

I know that's a goofy way to look at it, but just go with me for a minute.

I haven't met my goal weight yet. I have another 50 pounds or more to go. These arms are going to get flabbier before they get better. No amount of arm exercises is going to fix this. But, they are a reminder of where I came from and where I'm going.

So, if I'm in it for me, you may just see me around town with a tank top. People may stare and make jokes at my expense. Laugh away.

I know where I've been. I know where I'm headed. And, no amount of loose skin will get in my way of feeling really good about myself right now.

Ok, maybe the tank tops won't happen - I've never really felt that comfortable in a tank top, but no matter. I still feel good about my effort.

I've always been humble and will continue to be. But...I've got to be honest, as soon as my weight is where I want it to be I'm going to look in to surgery.  I may not ever be truly vain, but Carmen 2.0 just may be a little when it's all said and done! It certainly won't have flappy arms!

And, that confidence? Let's just say I will always have a smile!

Love Myself
Hailee Steinfeld