As you may know, I have been participating in a six month dietbet.com since February and I have a few more pounds to lose before the final weigh-in on Monday. I’ve had six months to lose 10% of my body weight and now it’s down to the wire…it’s crunch time baby!
In an attempt to lose this weight, I decided to try a 3 day refresh from the folks who make Shakeology. I’ve been using Shakeolgy to have a super nutrious breakfast for a little over a year now and I love what it does for me!
So what is a 3-day Refresh? It consists of three daily shakes, a fiber drink, plenty of filtered water, plus a whole lot of fruits, vegetables and healthy fats to consume throughout the day. (Paraphrased from the guide book)
Here is what most of my three days’ worth of consumption looks like, all ready to eat or for cooking. It literally took me about an hour last night to prepare everything for the next three days.
I’m super excited about doing this and so far, the afternoon of the first day, I’m not feeling deprived at all!
Keep a lookout during the next 72 hours to see how things are progressing and for the final results…and if you feel so inclined, a little encouragement would go a long way!
For years I've been telling myself (and my therapist) that I am addicted to food.
She completely agreed with me and tried to help me love myself as I often cried and mourned over what I so desperately wanted to fix.
Because no matter how far I had come to get over my other issues....the food was still there, making me fat.
Fat and ashamed.
I now know that I had not truly come to terms with the food addiction I carried around with me.
I know this because for the first time in my life, I am truly dealing with and facing this craziness, head on....and it hurts and I am hurting and doing everything I can not to fill my face with cake, donuts, pasta and loaves of bread dripping in butter.
Last month I joined a social dieting website called dietbet.com. The details aren't important, but what I was faced with doing is losing a certain amount of weight in a certain amount of time...the significance of this being the time issue.
Knowing that I had a finite amount of time to reach a goal forced me to give up my foods of choice which were sugar and enriched flour. And I had to do it cold turkey.
I have never had to detox from alcohol or drugs, so I can only go by my own experience, but I can't imagine that the withdrawals I had from sugar and flour are much different than detoxing from other addictions.
And I was not prepared for this AT ALL.
I was not prepared for the incredible mood swings I had.
The uncontrollable crying for seemingly no reason.
The depression.
Being irritable around my kids.
Feeling alone.
Tired.
Out of control.
Luckily, I have forgiving kids and an understanding boyfriend who may not have understood what I was going through but acted with love, patience and support as I went through this hell for a few days.
When it was over, I was still in tact and happy that I was able to get through it.
However, I am now all too aware that I will probably have to go through it again, but hopefully it won't be as overwhelming as this first time.
And why do I know that I will have to go through this again? Because food is the first thing I want to go to when I am having emotional struggles.
I'm dealing with it as I write this post, it's actually the reason for writing this blog today. I'm trying to relieve the anxiety and sadness by finding healthy ways of processing it...ways that will get me through my feelings instead of pushing them aside.
I know without a doubt that if I go into the kitchen right now and eat the oreo cookies in there, that I will almost instantly feel a sense of calm about me. The pain will go away, until I have time to process that I just gave into my addiction and then I will spend the next day beating myself for caving in. I know this because I've done it countless times before.
So what's a girl to do?
I'm trying to recognize this for what it is....trying to deal with addiction.
I'm going to trip and fall, and then I'm going to get right back up again. And I know it's worth getting back up, because I've had a taste of what it feels like to not crave sugar....I went a month without it, I had many occasions where I had a choice to cave or carry on and some of those decisions were made easily without any hesitation at all to make the right choice.
DAMN, did it feel amazing to be free from that prison....to walk by a box of donuts and not even WANT one was an incredible feeling.
I'm going to remember the positive steps I have made in my life toward recovery....I have quite easily given up sweet tea and coke, my breakfast now consists of shakeology shakes instead of McDonalds biscuits, and my nightime eating has all but vanished.
I'm also going to lean on those who offer. My boyfriend and I found out that we are really good for each other when it comes to keeping each other on track. During the weekends, we decide together what our meals will be and neither one of us ever discuss straying for that meal....instead we talk about the rewards to come or we decide we can have the other things we really want later.
And lastly, I try to remember what I felt like after going a month without sugar and then what I felt like after the first treat I allowed myself. I honestly felt nauseous, physically sick to my stomach. My body doesn't actually want me to have that crap....it's not what it needs and it's not what it wants, but through years of abuse and habit, my body learned to crave it.
So, now I go day by day, and sometimes meal by meal to make the right choices.
It's not easy, especially today when I'm dealing with other things that have made me sad...but now that I feel like I truly understand how food affects me....I can hopefully make wiser and better decisions based on knowledge instead of impulse.
Plus I have a bet to win.
Love and be loved. (This includes loving yourself)
Walking onto the short pier, feeling the sun-warmed wood on bare feet, my soul already begins to relax
As it remembers what always happens at the end of a pier.
My soul’s toes curl around the ends of the planks, its eyes longing, looking down at my reflection in the water
But really it wants to see what’s at the bottom, if I look hard enough I will see the rocks, the ledge and suddenly the dark blue where a cave feeds me this water that still sooths the heart after all these years and years and years.
The water that floods my body, my soul, my mind with love, passion, peace and joy
The joy and love overflow into tears
At the pier’s edge, where nothing exists beyond,
except the promise of peace and renewal
I dive.
There is no jumping,
there is no gradual stepping down a ladder,
there is no fancy back flip.
There is only diving.
When my feet spring up, leave the warm wood, and my lungs fill with air, everything slows down as I feel every drop of water caress my body as though we are long lost lovers.
I’m aware the water has reached my fingertips and is now reaching down my outstretched arms,
but the real reunion only begins as I feel the crystal clear spring envelope itself around my face and my neck. Hugging me as I surrender to its whispered promises.
My ears triumph at the dive’s ending splash, knowing that we are now one with the spirit cleansing coolness of this place.
Everything about me feels different alive new and perfect.
My body is not yet screaming for air, so I move my arms like a graceful mermaid, seeing the world through water-colored glasses.
Always marveling at how the cold water brings me completely alive and completely at peace again.
Every problem, every hurt, every sorrow goes away for however long my lungs can give me air for that first dive.
As I swim and roll like a dolphin in the loving beautiful selfless water
I feel a passion that can only be felt in the absence of air.
And so it goes with every walk on a pier
It may not be a dive into my beloved Indian Springs...
Roller Derby can be exhausting and overwhelming both mentally and physically.
It can be depressing, frustrating, maddening, thick with drama, criminal and chaotic, and that's even before you've laced up your skates.
Please don't mistake my honesty for being anything other than that. I am not a disgruntled or disenfranchised player.
I love skating and I love my league members.
But this spring I had come to a place where it was all becoming too much for me.
I spent the better part of last year working in a committee to make by-laws for our league, I took on the job of treasurer and am now finding myself in the position of trying to change the culture of the league that must come with adopting a set of bylaws (or the bylaws are useless).
And although I had nothing but good intentions by taking on these tasks, I got way too involved and way too passionate about the league. I was consumed with getting things right and consumed in making sure things were done "by the book" because we had never really had a book before.
Then to add to all the derby stress, I was injured in a bout in April and two months later I am still not able to skate...aaaannd there goes my stress outlet!
So when everything seemed to come to a head for me just before Memorial Day Weekend, I decided to use the long weekend to disconnect myself from derby and reconnect with me and my family. And what I found on the other side of that weekend was someone who had turned a hobby into a life unbalanced and I was ready to take a very long summer break. I had even told my family and a couple of very close friends that I was giving up roller derby for the summer.
It all made perfectly good sense to me until I started thinking about the family I wouldn't be seeing all those months. Because even though people have the best plans to stay in touch and still see each other "all the time", once you take out the main-line that connects you to the group, a change is inevitable. A change that I am not willing to give up just yet.
You see, what I have realized since Memorial Day, is that even though I came to derby to skate, what I have actually gained is something much bigger than that. I have become part of a group that has a place for me and I in turn have a place for it.
And it's not about being the treasurer, or a veteran, or even a skater....it's about being a friend. Each individual friendship having a life of it's own. Whether it be someone who's an "older" skater like me, a fellow skater who understands what it's like to be in an abusive relationship, someone who has kids and can relate to my kid problems, someone who can appreciate what a cool, musically smart mom I am (hehe), or one of the younger skaters who might just need someone with a little more life experience to give them some guidance. (Plus, I apparently have a very cool trampoline that the derby folks can't do without. And who am I to deprive them of that? :-o)
Therefore, after some soul searching and reflection, I have concluded that I don't have to give up roller derby and I don't want to...but I do need to find a better balance in my life. I can't be everything to everyone, nor should I be. I do have a responsibility, to be present and in the moment in whatever hat I'm wearing at the time....if it's my mom hat, business owner hat, or roller derby hat, I'm expected to be there and doing my jobs to the best of my ability....but I also need to turn some roles off while I'm engaged in others (the mom role never gets turned off).
Last week at practice, I really saw how the change in my attitude helped me to have fun at practice again, instead of quietly sulking that I couldn't skate. I took pleasure in helping and encouraging my teammates, and honestly just enjoyed watching them skate....simply because this group of people, in all our imperfections, makes my life better.
I'm going to get right to the point....there are no manuals, not even a website or a blog post that I could find that gave advice on how to transition to having my boyfriend spend the night, while my own teenagers slept upstairs in their rooms.
I could find lots of advice, opinions, strategies and what-not-to-do for young kids, but I could find nothing for teenagers....my hope was that other parents automatically got it right and so I was just the naive one looking for some help. Unfortunately, I witnessed how NOT to do it...so I'm thinking that there might be more people like me who are searching for guidance.
I am, of course no expert on the issue, but the way I went about overnights with my own crew, seems to be working out really well. So here are some of my pointers, in no particular order:
Just say no to one night stands and casual encounters. I'm not here to judge you on having one night stands...in fact, I say go for it. But under no circumstances should your young adults be dragged into your adventures, do that on your own time while your kids are at sleepovers elsewhere. Not only is it unhealthy psychologically for them, but one night stands typically mean you don't really know that person, are you really going to subject your kids to that?
Do introduce your kids to your new guy/girl when things move forward. One of the commitments I made to myself when I started dating after my divorce was that there would be no more whirlwind romances; slow and steady wins the race in my world. That's also a healthy attitude when introducing your kids to that special someone. Once things look like they are moving to "serious", slowly start having him or her spend more time with the family.
Plan with your partner. The first sleep over should definitely be planned! This is not the time to be spontaneous! I cannot stress this one enough. You two should first talk about if you are ready to move up to this big step and decide when would be the best time to do it (pssst, take a look at #4 below)
Talk with your young adults before the first sleepover. Skipping this step can result in big trust issues between you and your kids. It's a critical step in transitioning to having your love start staying the night. This is not asking your kids for permission, rather you should let them know that you two have decided to move to this next step and then talk with them about any concerns or questions they may have. This conversation should happen at least a few days before the big night and should only include you and the kids, not the partner.
He's sleeping over not moving in. Having your boyfriend spend the night does not mean he stays over every night. It's important that your kids have the space they need during this time of adjustment....a couple of nights a week on a regular basis is plenty.
Nobody should be walking around in their underwear. Hey teenagers are not naive little kids, they know what's probably going on in your bedroom, but you don't need to make it a billboard, neither you nor your significant other should be walking around the house in your underwear.
Check-in with your teens. Make sure you follow-up every once in a while to see how your teens are feeling about having him/her staying over....are they feeling comfortable with her being there? Are they getting along with her? Are there any questions or concerns they would like to talk about? Keeping the lines of communication open are crucial.
Be prepared for sex talk. If your teenagers are dating or even if they are not, be prepared to be challenged on why you get to have sleepovers, especially if you have encouraged abstinence with your kids. Unfortunately, I don't have the definitive right answer to this kind of situation, but my thoughts on the matter are that you don't have to defend yourself or take the challenge as a personal attack. Chances are they are just trying to figure out their own boundaries....this can be a great opportunity to further open lines of communication.
Modeling healthy relationships. Taking the time to think, plan and discuss sleepovers with your teenagers can be a healthy process for them. You are setting an example of how mature, loving adults work together to make their relationship strong. My sons have also had the opportunity to see me with someone who treats me (and them) with kindess and respect.
Give your teenagers space. Let your kids set the pace when it comes to how much interaction they have with you two when they are at home. Trying to force a good relationship between your love and your kids will only result in turmoil, let things happen naturally.
So there are my tips for bringing your significant other into your family atmosphere. I'm sure there are many other factors that could change your situation....like if your parnter has kids too or if you have full custody of your kids, that may change things for you. But the overall theme for why things are working for me is my commitment to good communication in all respects.
The bottom line is that if your teenager feels confident in his relationship with you, the parent, then he will be happy that you have found someone who cares for you and is respectful to your family.
As a young girl, I never once considered the possibility that I would be the mother of boys instead of girls.
Not one time. Ever.
Fate had other plans for me and here I sit before you as a mother of two wonderful sons.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
When the boys were younger, my friends would comment that I was a good boy's mom. We stayed busy, tried lots of new adventures and I enjoyed having a second childhood.
Like other parents, though, I had a secret fear of the teenage years. And that fear was founded on the fact that I remember how I was as a teenager!
The drama. The ups. The downs. Drinking alcohol. Getting caught drinking alcohol. Going to parties and on and on and on. The temptations can be too much.
Enter Spring Break 2013 when I hosted my 17 year old and four of his friends on a NC mountain vacation.
While some people looked at me horrifyingly when I told them what my Easter Weekend was going to entail, I was really excited about it!
Why, you ask?
Well, what better way to peak into a group of young men's lives than to spend four days with them?
And that was my whole plan. Aside from driving them to wherever they needed to go and cooking for them when necessary, I was just going to stay on the sidelines and give them their space.
But here is what really happened and here is what I learned:
On the drive up, I was a little nervous because two of the guys were riding with me neither of them being my son....so I had no idea what to expect. Would there be awkward silence most of the way? Would they kind of huddle together and whisper, completely ignoring me? Or worse, would they look at me with silent disgust if I said something "weird"?
Uh, no, no and no.
They actually had me laughing so hard at times that I nearly peed my pants. We listened to great music, talked about their daily lives, about college and even about drugs and alcohol.
The overall tone for the trip had been set, we were going to have a blast.
And that truly was how it went.
The first couple of days I had my own companion, so the two of us spent some time doing our own thing....but we never got the vibe from the guys that they didn't want us "invading their space".
They were too busy being themselves to notice what we were doing. They played video games, played their guitars, sang, watched movies, got in snowball fights, played wiffle ball, fished and just enjoyed being friends. We all ate together during meals and honestly, most of that time was spent laughing. Oh! and they also cleaned up the kitchen after every meal...so wow, that was fantastic!
The activities they did weren't important, although they did schedule time to eat dinner and play with some of the children at Crossnore School, which is a residential school for children in need. This was actually something they asked to do...no prodding whatsoever by any adults...and it was a pretty amazing time, too.
What was important though, was this group of high school juniors.
These young men have this chemistry with each other that amazes me. Each one is completely different than the other: there is a peace lover, an athlete with a passion for guitar, an actor/musician, a writer, and an aspiring doctor who could also make it as a comedian. Each one unique, but each one with a respect for those differences.
It's kind of like The Breakfast Club. There, I said it.
One of the young men in the group is of Middle Eastern discent and the boys tirelessly point this out to him. The first time I heard it, on the ride in the car, my jaw dropped and I almost said something....but again, I went back to my original plan of not invading with their group dynamics. But as the weekend went on I realized that in some unexplained way, their teasing him just solidifies his membership in the group....but make no mistake about it....he gives it right back to them in other ways, especially by laughing along with them. And the truth is, they all egg each other on in different ways...be it pushing someones buttons while their favorite team is losing at basketball, piling pillows on a sleeping lad, or calling someone a ginger for his red hair.....it's almost as if you should worry if they DON'T tease you in some way.
It was lots of fun to watch them as they experienced uninterrupted fun time together, but the highlights of the trip for me came during the times where they actually let me into their world....when someone would crack an inappropriate joke and I would laugh right along with them or when they would wait and let me walk with them on our afternoon hike.
Those times when I stopped being a mom and morphed into a real person were pure joy. And none of those times compared to the last night we were in the mountains. When two of the guys and I were watching Family Feud (no judging, just go along with me here) and the question was "Name something that goes up." Ok, no biggie, I'm just thinking to myself what some of those things could be, just like any other person would be doing. But before I really had a chance to think about it, I blurt out "penis".
And there it was....the look I was dreading....I had said something weird and I just KNEW that I was going to get a lecture from my son about not saying stupid things. I could feel the blush creeping up my face and I was planning my exit strategy...but then, a funny thing happened, the very last answer to the question was revealed and it was "Mr. Happy"! Holy Cow! The sheer surprise and amazement they showed was hilarious as they ran into the adjoining room to tell the others how funny I was! And that was it...that was the moment I became a person. We spent the rest of that night making up words to ABC songs that were completely made in bad taste, but it was the most I have laughed in years. I literally exhausted myself in laughter until my face hurt, my belly was fatigued and I couldn't stop coughing from being out of breath.
When I think about that night and why things fell into place the way they did, it is because of two things:
I gave them the freedom and safety to just be.
They gave me the freedom to do the same.
As we were riding home the next day, I was thinking to myself that it would be fun to do it all again next year.
But then I realized there probably won't be a next year as they will all be seniors and no doubt will want to do something more exciting then spending a weekend with someone's parents. And then after that, they won't need to be supervised anymore, they are going to be all grown up.
I adore those boys....and although they definitely had a good time, they will probably never quite know how much joy I recieved from the trip, simply because they were a part of it.
Looking back, I find that I have always had a fondness for writing, especially when it came to matters of the heart. Be it friends, lovers, family or just my observations....I enjoy writing about people.
My earliest attempt at authoring a book was at 13 years of age after reading "Flowers in the Attic" by V.C. Andrews. I distinctly remember pecking on my neighbor's typewriter as I frantically tried to keep up with my thoughts of re-capturing Ms. Andrew's ability to reveal her character's emotions simply by seeing the depths of the souls in each of their eyes. How the lust and the pain and the secrets of unspoken words could be communicated just by studying the lover's eyes. Oh boy!
And through the years I have kept journals, made more attempts at writing novels and alas, landed myself on a blog.
It started out as an extension of my crafting hobby as I hoped to make tutorials and talk about my life as a creative, but it has mostly become a place where I write about what's on my mind at the moment. It can be anything from poems, to videos, to advices, to rants. And more times than not, I'm sharing a piece of myself with the reader.
I've made my share of mistakes by writing about things that were too close or too personal for the subjects. I've made the mistake of writing a piece when I was emotionally charged and ended up hurting people. It's something that, years later, I still very much regret. But I learned and grew from it, which is all anyone can do.
Last week I wrote about something that was intensely painful and personal for me. I'm ok with the things I choose to write about, not just because they are cathartic for me, but because it's my way of reaching out to those who might be going through similar situations or issues.
And while my intentions for writing might be good, I cannot control or dictate how others will perceive or react to what I have to say.
This was the harsh lesson I was handed over the week when a former friend of mine used my very words to accuse me and a group I'm involved with of emotionally abusing her. The spectrum of emotions I have gone through during the week have sporadically changed between fury, hurt, pity, anger, sadness, betrayal, and disbelief. Then add to the mix that my words were used to fire shots at the group of people that I hold dear to my heart....well, that brought out in me a fierce desire to strike back to defend those that I love.
But in the end, here is what I settled upon....I have to let this go and I have to let this go in peace. I have to be at peace knowing that my friends and I did nothing wrong. I need to remember that she is hurting and actually IS being emotionally abused ....but she is so deep in the pain, so deep in the thick of it, that the source of it is impossible for her to pinpoint right now. And how can I not do my best to be understanding of her when I too have experienced all that comes with a controlling, manipulative relationship?
I don't want anyone to go through the horrible things I did....that's why I write about it! And I actually did hear from people last week, friends who were finally able to put a name to their suffering and even from a family member of my ex, who had only words of love and support for me.
Exposing my faults, my desires, my weaknesses and my humanness for the entire internet to see can be an extremely rewarding and inspiring thing....but it doesn't come without risks. The risk of being misunderstood, the risk of being ridiculed and the risk of being falsely accused of things I did not do.
For now however, the connections with others that I make, the words of encouragement, openess and understanding I receive from my readers far outweigh the misguided words I get from the few.
For now I will risk the pain so that others might learn to feel some love.
I had every intention of writing this week's blog about my experiences as a victim of emotional abuse.
I wanted to tell the world my story because I know there are too many stories like mine, even worse than mine, that are playing out in real time right now.
I wanted to tell the people who I know and love (and the people that they know and love) about my story of being emotionally abused, because they might see their own story in mine....but they didn't even realize it had a name.
Yet more than four years after ending my marriage.
After four years of successful therapy.
After four years of freeing myself of the constant mental anguish, anxiety and physical pain of being stuck in a bottomless pit of depression.
After finally finding myself with a man whom I feel completely and totally cocooned in safety;
I find that I'm not ready to turn around and look at that pain again.
I can't turn around and look at the woman I used to be....whether the percieved fear of falling off the ledge again is real or imagined...is not something I'm willing to face right now.
However, I can say with absolute confidence, that Love is not supposed to hurt.
Love doesn't consist of:
Having to "walk on egg shells" around that person
Shaming someone into being a perfect housekeeper
Humiliating that person for not accomplishing the impossible task of being a perfect housekeeper
Alienating your loved one from family and friends
Guilting your partner into having sex
Holding someone else accountable for your happiness.
Refusing to take responsibility or seek help for the behaviors that cause destruction in people's lives.
Blaming others for your problems.
Riding a roller coast of the highest highs and the lowest lows
Those things are not love, those things are emotional abuse....along with a lengthy list of other characteristics.
Unfortunately, the longer someone stays in an emotionally abusive relationship, the harder it is to escape the endless cycle of that abuse. Actually one of the hardest parts is simply identifying what is happening to you, because most of the time, the victims of emotional abuse feel like they are the ones with the problem. That they are the ones who aren't good enough.
But there is hope and there are ways to leave...
And on the other side of that pain and suffering is a whole world out there for you to live again. A world where you make the rules.
A world where you decide that people are either going to treat you with love, kindness and respect or they can go make someone else's life miserable.
A world where you have the freedom to discover, finally, exactly who you are and realizing that love doesn't hurt.
That love is actually a form of freedom.
Not a form of prison.
(If you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship, you can find helpful information here: http://stoprelationshipabuse.org/ )
Love and be loved.
*(The picture for this post was found on pinterest with a dead-end link, no copyright infringement intended)
In the late 1800’s some “experts” in the field of infant care decided that cuddling and holding babies was a primitive practice and that a hands-off approach was much better for raising children. Subsequently, a new epidemic appeared where seemingly healthy infants stopped eating, failed to thrive and eventually died.
They were literally dying to be held, cuddled and loved.
Humans physically and emotionally need to have real human connections to survive.
Granted, people have different levels of the need to feel and touch others. Some people are very guarded with whom they come in contact and yet others have a high level of touchy-feely needs.
Me, me, me,me ,me! (Raises hand enthusiastically)
I’m the touchy-feely type. If we are friends, chances are you are going to get a hug from me each time we meet. Unless, of course, I have perceived you as being guarded, in which case you may get a fist-bump instead. But hey, it’s all good.
The firsttime I truly understood this about myself is when I became known as one of the “free-huggers” at Camp Indian Springs, where I spent my summers as a teenager working as a camp counselor. If someone wanted or needed a hug, they knew I was a sure thing. And I basked in it…I was very aware that having a physical connection with a friend would lead to having a deeper connection on all levels. And I’m all about those strong friendships.
So where does all this “need to touch” stuff leave us when it comes to romantic relationships? If you are being “intimate” with someone, why would it be important to have what people call “non-sexual touch”?
Well, I’m certainly no expert in the subject, but I do have experiences from which to pull. I’ve been in relationships where holding hands or putting your arms around each other was only a precursor to other things that were expected to come later. And those things are fine when the relationship is new…but I believe if you are only being touched with strings and expectations attached to that touching….you will eventually learn to hate being touched by your partner.
Right now I am in the healthiest romantic relationship of my life. We have a great deal of respect between the two of us and treat each other as such. But being happy is not a coincidence, I went into the relationship committing to be completely honest with him; and deciding that if I couldn’t do that, then there would be no relationship. Fortunately for me, I happened to find someone who is very open, safe and easy to talk to, so being honest with him has not been a challenge.
I do, however, spend a lot of time thinking about and wondering why things are so good between us. Not that I am trying to analyze us to exhaustion, but because I want to make sure we continue to practice the things that make us who we are as a couple. I don’t want to mess this up.
One of the items on the list of things we do right is integrating affectionate touching into the time we have together. We normally only see each other on weekends, so I spend much of our face time trying to make up for the weekdays when I don’t get to intertwine my fingers with his, put my arms around his neck or feel his leg propped up against mine as we watch “Mad Men”.
In fact, I feel most relaxed when we snuggle on the couch, my head on his chest, his arm around me and my hand lightly in his. I have also found that I love to run my hands over his face and was curious as to why. I don’t remember every wanting to do that to anyone else, so why now?
Well, it ends up, according to Joe Navarro, a former FBI agent, expert in non-verbal communication and a blogger for Psychology Today, that “The act of touching is a highly effective pacifier, which is why we do it to others (children crying) and to ourselves (combing or stroking hair, rubbing hands, touching our noses, massaging our foreheads and neck). It is also a highly effective way to say I care and I love.”
Essentially, touching your partner in a kind and affectionate manner, in a way that doesn’t have a hidden meaning of “hey, I’m doing this for you now so you’ll want to get busy later”, is an added way to communicate your love, while at the same time strengthening the emotional bond.
So even if you don’t consider yourself the touchy-feely type, I urge you to take the risk, open yourself up and “talk” to your partner in a different way. You may just find a new love language.
Love and be loved.
(A big thanks to my teammate Christina DeVincenzo for providing the beautiful photo)
I like myself...I really do. It's taken me a long time to come to this point in the road.
I'm far from perfect. I know I'm a messy person, I can be opinionated, scatter brained and it's hard for me to take criticism.
I'm also a loyal friend, a loving person, accepting, a good mom, kind, creative, responsible and an ok roller derby player.
I also weigh a lot and in that respect, I hate myself. Hate is a strong word.
But why am I so ashamed of being overweight?
I play roller derby and I love it...I love it because I finally found a sport where my being big can work for me instead of against me....my big butt, if used correctly, can actually help my team out. Terrific right? Yeah, I think so too....until bout pictures show up on facebook...and then I want to cry.
I want so badly to see myself on the outside the way I see myself on the inside when I play derby....yet all I see is a big fat blob who looks like she's barely able to stay on skates. Instead of feeling proud of myself for being out there and being of some use to my team, I dwell on how fat I look.
Then the other day, while talking with a friend about this, I said to her, "Why can't I just love myself the way others love me?"
What a revelation! Instead of hating myself every time I look in the mirror or when I see those- below the face pictures....why can't I just see myself the way other people who love me see me everyday? They are seeing the exact same things I see in pictures of myself....yet there they are, loving me no matter how I look. Yes, they see I'm over weight...but THEY DON'T CARE!
So then again, if they don't care, then why do I?
Easy answer....a lifetime of being taught that being fat is shameful. And when I say a lifetime, I mean a lifetime.....starting in 4th grade when Amy Zakarin decided she didn't want to be friends anymore by announcing to our class during gym that she hated me because I was fat. And ending, so far, with a guy telling me last year to "go eat another biscuit" when he thought I backed out of a parking space too slowly.
Society in general hates fat people and loves stereotyping them as lazy, disgusting pigs who can't or don't care of themselves. Case and point: have you seen the ambushing of Kim Kardashian's weight gain lately? I'm no fan of hers, but my God, these tabloids are horrible to her....nobody deserves that! And then we wonder why America's teens are so bent on starving themselves.
For years I've been writing on here about Healing the Fat Girl, about trying to come to terms with myself and finally being able to lose the weight. But maybe healing the fat girl means deciding to be kind and gentle to myself and accepting me for who I am, like so many other people accept me for who I am. Maybe it's not really about me losing weight, maybe it's about me deciding to stop judging myself and just being fine with who I am.
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