I have lamented my weight, arm size, belly’s size, thigh size and everythingelsesize for so long. I am not someone who loses weight easily. Working out and eating healthfully do not a size four make, for me. Working out like crazy and keeping my caloric intake at 1400 do create some change but still, not much.

I have realized, fairly recently, that the lie I tell myself is that I am doing it all so I can be “healthy”. That if I were smaller then I would be healthy. If I didn’t have  a little belly (arm,butt,thigh,everything) then I would be healthy. That is a lie.

I can run for 4 miles and feel good when I am finished (and that will be up to six miles by the end of this month! 10k, here I come!).

I can carry Nolie around all day and bounce her all nap time (two hours) and still feel capable of washing all the dishes after I make the dinner.

I can plan, shop for and make healthy veggie filled meals nightly. And I do, do this!

I can water, weed and tend my garden and pull out great food from it and put it directly on our plates.

I can dance.

I can sing.

I can jump and hop.

I think my body is settled. This is the size I fall into when I am healthy and happy. Happiness and eating are tied together for me- when I am happy I am baking, cooking and drink concocting with friends and family. And, when I am healthy, I am about 5-10lbs bigger than I deem “healthy”.

For years I have told myself that the reason for hating my body, beating it with (excessive)exercise and dieting was because I wanted to be honoring Gods gift and design. I used God as a means to make myself feel like it was right to have this off balance view of how important my size was. I am realizing, partially thanks to the 1000 gifts book, that Thankfulness for my body is not conditional. I am thankful for how strong my legs feel when we push up that last hill no matter how big they are. I am thankful for my back holding me up when I stand and bounce Nolie for hours on end. I am thankful for the curve of waist to hip that serves as a perfect seat when my girl is scared and needs to be held. My body is made well and a gift at this size. I think God has settled and made me this size on purpose. Not as a mistake. And that? big news to me.

There would be nothing healthy about me not eating lunch at the table with Nolie because I need to “save my calories” for dinnertime. There would be nothing healthy about me forgoing a night of cuddling with Charlie in bed while we read our books because I didn’t run far enough that morning. There might be a size four at the end of all of that, but health? not so much.

My body is healthy and strong and getting more fit every day. It has settled at a size and weight that I am realizing isn’t so bad. It isn’t my “ideal” but it is the place that I am in when I am healthy in mind and fit in body.

I am settling into this size and space and feeling pretty darn good about it. After running four miles yesterday and then drinking a delicious mojitto with friends in our back yard it hit me- This is health.

Balance is health. I believe that God is bringing me into a season of balance and it is so good. Balancing motherhood and self. Balancing Love and relationship with growth and refinement. And- giving a lot of control up and letting balance come in the wake of that.

I think some pages are turning and possibly chapters are ending in the book of my battle with body. I couldn’t be happier with the conclusions.

For the first time in my life I am losing weight healthily.

Over the past ten years I have dabbled in everything unhealthy when it came to weight loss. From the time I was about 14 I felt like I needed to change something. I have spent countless hours in counseling trying to figure out where this came from, what in me caused this “not good enough” mentality that seems like it runs so deeply that it might just be genetic. The hard part is that I come up empty. My parents are loving, supportive and endlessly complimentary. My husband is sweet and always telling me how lovely, beautiful and bright I am. I don’t lack encouragement. I do however lack confidence and that, I believe, has been the crux of my failures.

Here is what I have tried that has gotten me short-term fast success and then piled the weight back on bigger and badder than ever.
1. Excessive working out (working out nonstop, endless classes and cardio- never weight training, hours a day).
2. Not eating.
3. Binging and purging (not in excess but whenever I couldn’t “keep myself” from eating).
4. Depression (right after everything happened with Charlie, I dropped about 15 pounds).
5. Weird pills, water pill and green tea pills. Anything else was too scary to me but still. . . ew

Even just listing that out makes me start to sweat (honesty=hard), it is so sad that probably most women have gone to (at least one) of these lengths. All to make their shorts look cuter and their arms more toned. Only, with all of these methods I just felt worse and worse as the pounds dropped off (and drop they did) because I wasn’t making choices that were healthy. I wasn’t doing anything to stop the crazy. The thoughts raged on. I was still beating myself up daily for “bad foods” or “lazy days”. And a big problem was that instead of seeing the whole of myself I just looked at the minutia (just the low side of my thigh, not my leg- that kind of deal) and got sad and upset that I looked so “disgusting”. It was impossible to be satisfied because my expectations were unattainable (don’t eat, workout enough to burn 3,000 calories).

But Nolie changed all that. When I got pregnant I was in the midst of one of my “workout phases”. I had put on some weight after getting married because I was, God forbid, happy and I had just started beating myself up for how my body had changed. Then, I got pregnant and it all fell away. Nolie forced health on me. No drinking, consistent eating, healthy amounts of working out and (most importantly) awe over what my body could do. I felt restored. Those months were incredible. My love for my body grew and grew with every inch on my belly. I loved my bump, I loved the little lady baby inside of it and I knew I would love what all of this gain was creating.

Then Nolie was born and I began breast feeding. The pounds from pregnancy all but fell off (save for about five pesky ones) and I felt incredible. Not to mention I still had to take care of my body in order to keep up my milk supply. I ate regularly, never restricted calorie intake and watched how much caffeine I was consuming. Even more good habits started to form. And better than that, I was watching myself become the person I had always wanted to be- a Mama. I have wanted to be a SAHM forever, I envisioned having a job (career) before becoming a Mom but always just something to pass some years by so that I could stay home with my babies. And the best part is that I am really great at my job. Having  a job that I love and take pride in has been paramount in me starting to like myself. And be impressed with what my body can do.

I have been breast feeding a minimum of six times a day for 17 months now (and the past few days it has been nonstop, not so fun). My body has been successfully sustaining Nolie and still keeping me upright for over two years now. Body, I am impressed with you.

However, all this kumbaya about my body would be crap if I didn’t tell you that I wanted to make some changes. About two months ago I started getting frustrated that I wasn’t feeling strong. I made some goals and saw immediate results in my demeanor. Then I started setting some different goals, some more concrete ones. And now? I am seeing results again. Only this time they aren’t just in my demeanor. They are in my habits, my thoughts and my body. I am shedding pounds healthily for the first time. Wow, I need to just write that again. I am shedding pounds healthily for the first time.

How dumb is it that it has taken me ten years of crap and one kid to shake off the shackles of quick fixes and miracle pills. There is no book I can read that will make me love myself. There is no magazine article about belly fat that will revolutionize my workout or my diet. I had to make the choice to start getting to know myself and honor my needs. It has been a great choice. The best motivation comes from being able to keep up better with Nolie and starting to feel like a new-self, a person who loves how strong and capable she is. Exactly the type of model I want Nolie to be around.

This novel of a post is meant to be an update. A celebration of meeting some goals and feeling even more dedicated and excited. Soon I plan to write about the type of working out I am doing- because it is awesome and includes navigating my way through a jungle gym with a couple of other fed up silly Mamas and maybe what I am eating (though it isn’t that exciting). Is any of that stuff you would want to read about? Or should we just stick to the main piece of advice I have… drop the magazines and put some time and energy into making yourself feel strong. Be that running or writing, eating healthy or taking yourself out on a coffee date- go fall in like with yourself and then start that process (life long is my guess) of loving yourself.

1. I don’t eat whole meals.
3. I don’t drink enough water.
4. I drink too much coffee.

Number one is the real killer. I munch all.day.long and never sit down and eat a meal. Consequently I am always hungry and grabbing whatever I can and never taking the time for a meal. This is with the exception of dinner, because we all sit down and eat together. I realized today that part of why I don’t do it is because of my awful self talk and worth problems. I don’t feel worth the time and energy to make a meal in the middle of the day. I don’t want to “waste” the ingredients on just me. I want to save them for dinner time. Instead of roasting some veggies and making quinoa in the middle of the day I end up eating a few spoonfuls of peanut butter, some crackers, an insane number of carrots and a huge amount of hummus. None of those are bad foods, but none of them constitute a meal. However they do rack up an insane amount of calories.

I am starting with posting goals. I am a big fan of goals, short term and long term. I like achieving things and being able to check off a list. So here is my goal for the next month.

To eat meals purposefully. And, to be specific and concrete: To continue a food journal for a full month. 


I am hoping that if I can see what meals look like, what portions look like and be accountable to it all then maybe I will start to see a change in my body and (even better) feel a change in my head and heart.

I have signed up for this race with a group of Mamas in my town, I am so excited and terrified (check out the obstacle list)!  This has given me renewed motivation at the gym. I have something I am training for, and I love that. These past two weeks I have been dedicated to going and my pace is getting faster and faster and I can tell I am getting stronger. I am trying so hard to not be discouraged by my clothes not fitting differently and the scale not budging and focusing on how much stronger I am getting. It is still an uphill battle for me to see this as a fight for my health and future and not a fight for smaller jeans and cute arms, but I am slowly moving toward that. And seeing any progress in that direction is a huge win for me.

This stuff has been on my mind and takes up too much space, I shouldn’t let body woes occupy so much time and energy. Does anyone else struggle with this need for goals and motivation in order to feel like you can conquer this? I so often feel like I should have outgrown this by now,  my teenage insecurities should be all waved away now that I am knocking down the door of 25. And yet? They persist. I feel better since having Nolie (weird, right?) but still have a daily battle with the mirror and my thoughts. Do you?

I have set weight loss goals before and they (I)  always fail. They fail because I don’t need a quick fix, I need a lifestyle change. I need health and wellness to be my end goals not size 4 and X amount of pounds.

So here are my goals

Long Term (over the next year)
* To run (another) half Marathon with Charlie
* To hike Oyster Dome and be the one to carry Nolie the whole way up
* To feel comfortable in my own skin (not based on a number on the scale, a number on my pants, or anyone else’s words)
* To feel confident at the gym
*go totally car free for two weeks

Short Term (over the next few months)
* Comfortably run four miles (I can do 2.5 now)
*Stop eating when I am full
*Always be stocked with fruits, veggies, salad fixings
*Meal Plan
*Go the the gym at least three times a week (so far I am actually DOING that one!)
*Attend Saturday morning Yoga every weekend that we are home
*Get on my bike, more!

So… anyone else doing this? Any body else being bit of by the spring time weather bug and ready to get active and joy filled? Getting on my bike and riding around town has been a big motivator. Not only is it showing me how weak I have gotten (even little hills just slay me!) but also how much I want to feel good and feel high on health. Cheesy? maybe. Totally legit? YES!

PS. I took really embarrassing “before” photos and hid them so well on my computer that it will take me forever to find them again! 

This would be a problem even if I had a boy. But somehow the urgency hits harder because I have a girl.

I had a sad, sad thought the other morning. I was on outfit three and exasperated with the way that everything I own fits me weird and Charlie walked in and said “you look so beautiful” and I responded with “ew, I look disgusting”. This wouldn’t be that big of a deal except for the fact that (admission number one) this isn’t a rare occurrence. We have that exchange at least once a day. I realize how unhealthy it is. I see how wrong and horrible those words are. I would never say those words to another person. Aside from all of that, the thought that I had was- I hope Nolie never turns out like me.

Admission two: it wasn’t the first time I had thought this.

I never want Nolie to think she looks sick, repulsive, obese or disgusting. All of those are words I throw around like they are no big deal. Only, they are. . . like, a really big deal. And the more often I use them, think them and act them, the more likely Nolie is to learn to use them too. The inheritance I am giving her isn’t one I am proud of and more than that it is something I have control over. I choose what words I say. I choose what attitude I have about my body.

I am so scared of her picking up on my insecurities and owning them as hers. Up until now I have just lived in fear of her turning into me and feeling like I feel, but today it hit me hard- I have power over this. I have done enough therapy to know about ‘self talk’ and have disregarded it because it “didn’t work” (re: didn’t work fast enough) for me. But I am picking this up again. I am only talking to and about myself with words that I would use to describe a dear friend  or my dear daughter. Because I deserve that kind of treatment too, and so does future Nolie. I am going to model the kind of behaviour that I hope Nolie does grow up to embody. However, the thing about ‘self talk’ is that for me it always just feels like lying, and so I don’t go for it. I am in a place where I don’t have very nice words to say and I need some help finding them. So tonight it finally made sense to me, I don’t need to flounder around to find the right words to try and make me healthy and Nolie too.

Every night I pray while I nurse Nolie. We rock in the dark and I pray for her, for my family, for friends, for Charlie and I spend time in silence. Tonight I prayed for Nolie and me. I asked God to give         me words about us, words that describe me and words that describe Nolie, so that I could speak those around her. He answered.

Tomorrow I plan on telling Nolie how lovely and worthy we both are. And I am pretty excited to rock tomorrow night and gain an even bigger vocabulary for us.

It is no secret, I have done a lot of counseling. But I like to keep the reason as something neat- my husbands problems. If I had to own up to my own problems being the reason for my discontent, low, unhappy attitude- that would mean some responsibility and I would have to change.

I don’t like labels, well actually, I love them. Just not for me. Charlie however, likes them because it easily places me in a box that can be read about and understood. He has bought books upon books. Ones that fit the labels he thinks fit me. Body Dysmorphic Disorder. Bulimia. Depression.
We have books on each of these labels.

When we first started counseling I met alone with our lady a few times and she mentioned to me that she thought I may be depressed. I never met with her alone again.

I then started seeing a counselor alone a little over a year later. She mentioned that I may be depressed. I stopped talking to her, or at least stopped telling her the truth.

I couldn’t be depressed. I smile all the time. I work out. I bake. I play with my baby. I didn’t want to ever absorb a label that I had thrown around so carelessly before because it would mean I had failed.

I wasn’t depressed. . . I just couldn’t get out of bed sometimes. I wasn’t depressed, I just had to leave places because my anxiety over how my pants looked was too overwhelming. I wasn’t depressed, I just wasn’t able to talk or think because my mind was racing so fast with thoughts I couldn’t even decipher- even though my body was moving so slowly.

I honestly didn’t belive that you could be depressed and still function. But there I was, functioning and yet so down (sad or unhappy is just the wrong word). Charlie noticed and would point out to me things I would say and do that just weren’t normal. Weren’t what ‘healthy’ people do.

So we started counseling together, again. Together because I couldn’t bear to tell the truth and not just smile when I was there alone. After weeks of going together, I started going alone. Once the base had been laid out. I still go, not every week, not even every month now. But I know what to look for when I start getting down. I know myself a little better.

This post isn’t all that light. It isn’t all that tied up, because I still have to be aware and I still have times where it feels impossible to pull up from the down. I guess I am just posting this because it has been on my heart and more than that, I want people to know how not alone they are. What I went (go) through is the light hearted version of what others weather and struggle through. I feel blessed that my down is more of a bend and less of a drop.