This above all: to thine own self be true

So I've been boycotting men for a little longer than this blog has existed. Why? Well, aside from a string of bad decisions, even worse luck, and other aspects of my psyche we should leave untapped for the time being, I just plain needed a period of reevaluation. I needed to figure out just who I was and where I wanted my life to be before bringing anyone else in. I needed to completely get over any wrong doing from my past so that it wouldn’t continue to affect every relationship in my future. Everyone has baggage from their previous relationships. It’s a matter of keeping that baggage to a manageable level. I personally prefer carry on versus full-fledged LUGGAGE.

The single life has actually been quite nice. For the first time in my life I was wholeheartedly content to be single. No unnecessary drama. No emotionally draining conversations about various censurable acts. My self-worth was no longer determined by whether or not I had the interest of some guy. I learned that the only one that has to like me was ME…and Lola (but all you have to do is give her a treat and a belly rub and she's yours, the whore). It was empowering…it was HEAVEN!

The last few months I’ve started baby-stepping my way back out there. I’ve met a few people, but nothing substantial has come out of any of it quite yet. Nothing substantial, that is, except an undeniable realization that I am so very different from the girl I used to be. She rears her ugly head every so often but for the most part, she’s gone. The raging insecurity, the insane shyness, the complete inability to take risks due to a disabling fear of failure and rejection…I have found a way to stifle it. I’ve started my own business for crying out loud, that’s the biggest risk of my life. I have failed at losing weight more times than Susan Lucci has been nominated for an Emmy, but I keep on trying. I’ve gone from believing I’ll never have and never do to taking control and making things happen all on my own.

I can’t say I’ve got great self-esteem, I don’t. I can’t say that I wake up every day happy with how I look, I’m not. I can’t say I’m never insecure, no one is. I can say that now I know how to regulate it. I know how to pick myself up and re-motivate myself. I know how to maintain an attitude of “If you don’t like me, that’s your loss.” and moreover, BELIEVE it. Ya’ll, I am a catch. My friends have been singing my praises for years and I’m finally beginning to come to the same realization they came to long ago. If someone doesn’t like me just because of my size then they are tragically misguided because I am so much more than that. Sadly, those same people will settle for someone with a quarter of my personality just because they fit what society says a woman should look like. You can’t just pick up a personality at your local Louis Vuitton store, meanwhile, all I have to do is lose this weight. I think I got the better deal.

Will I have setbacks? Most likely. Something will happen that will make me question all of it, but I’ll recover and move on. They say you aren’t ever really going to be successful at losing weight until you accept yourself (faults included) and love who you are. Maybe now is my time. I’ve always BEEN fierce…I just didn’t see it.

I'm gaining more than I bargained for

A lot has happened in the last couple weeks. My weight is teetering back and forth. One week I do well, one week I don’t. I’ve been working out with a new trainer (love her) once a week for the last couple months and I’ve gotten nowhere. Thanks to stress and my emotional eating issues I’ve been putting food away like I’m preparing for Y2K and the working out has simply kept me from gaining pound upon pound. What I have gained, though, is an immense amount of perspective.

Last weekend I was confronted by the fact that my parents are not going to be here forever. My parents no longer wear the superhero garb they donned when I was little. As they are sneaking up on 60 I wonder where I’ve been the last 20 years. I mean I’m vaguely aware that birthdays have been happening, but I didn’t grasp the fact that they were also getting older. I guess I just expect them to always be there and I don’t appreciate it when someone or something tries to prove otherwise.

It’s odd that someone can have a dozen things go wrong with their health and, though concerned, nothing makes as big an impact as the word “lump”. In my family that word really only means one thing. In my family there isn’t a worse 4-letter word in the book. Luckily, this time, the 4-letter word was a false alarm.

I was laying in bed last night thinking about the last few weeks and the impact bad news would have had on the family and it made me start to ponder my own invincibility. It’s been almost a year since I found out I was pre-diabetic and I’ve done virtually nothing about it because in my head…I’ll be just fine. I flirt with a heart attack every day, but I know it could NEVER happen to ME. I think it’s time to get my priorities in order. I think it’s time to stop writing about what I’m going to do and actually DO IT. I think it’s time I realized that most superhero garb is made of spandex and at my size…I just can’t pull that off. I think it’s time to find that girl that wanted to be fierce. Here goes.