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.