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Dream

The past few months, I lost a piece of myself.

Not in a huge way. Not in a life-stopping way. Not in a “I’m a shell of a human way.”

In a way I thought was actually positive. In a way that, in some ways, was.

Before moving to Boston I was a dreamer. I dreamed of my own businesses and books and podcasts and speaking engagements and events and insert any other thing you can think of here.

NYC was it. Boston was it. Fame was it. My dreams were it.

Moving taught me something different.

Moving taught me that sometimes the greatest dreams were the ones you had already achieved. It taught me that the grass isn’t always greener and that sometimes what you always had was what you had always needed.

It taught me that big dreams are great — important — but big dreams need to be rooted in the right reasons.

Why do you want something?

Sometimes the answer to this question isn’t what they say it should be. Sometimes it is about money, fame, looks, “likes,” or recognition — and sometimes that’s okay.

But sometimes these reasons won’t bring you the real thing you’re searching for, which, I’m assuming, is something along the lines of meaning, fulfillment, love, and belonging.

Having come to learn the lesson of reasoning behind dreams and gratitude upon my move, I found out some pretty tough stuff about myself.

I had wanted my dreams to come to fruition for the following (and I do not exaggerate): an Instagram bio, a pant size, a photo with a cute-ass caption, an interview at a conference where everyone knew my name.

I didn’t want it for the east coast shoreline, the adrenaline of working in a fast-paced environment, the lesson that it doesn’t matter what you look like in order to make it — I didn’t want it to give back to my friends, my family — people I had yet to meet.

And this was tough to face.

I didn’t like myself for this. I tried to change this. I thought long and hard about this.

And along this journey, I decided that none of it was for me.

I decided that I didn’t care where I lived, what my title was, if I ever wrote again. I decided that the entrepreneurial lifestyle wasn’t for me — that it was too hard, brought up too many sources of temptation for the life I needed to live.

Because I couldn’t be around it if it brought out the worst motives in me.

But that’s not true.

Because you see when I said goodbye to the need for good looks and good fortune, I also turned my back on a large part of what makes me, me.

My dreams.

My creativity. My ability to be inspired. My love for encouraging others.

Me.

I’m a dreamer.

And I always will be.

Being a dreamer yet still being grateful can be the same thing.

I lost some of myself for awhile. I lost my ability to write — my ability to think big. I forgot what dreaming was. And I see now that I needed to lose it in order to find it again. I needed to realize that the power of my own entrepreneurial (insane) spirit could become a negative thing for me if I didn’t learn the importance of staying grounded.

I forgot what dreaming was, so that I could learn it all over again.

So that it could live in my life, without becoming my life.

So what is it?

It’s not suffocating myself as I push my creativity to the background. It’s not needing to change the world. It’s not needing the perfect apartment or clothes. It’s not needing the Instagram following.

It’s being creative. It’s acting on inspiration. It’s wanting to change or help just one person. It’s letting it go if you have a day, week — month with no progress or no desire to create. It’s quitting a project and starting back up again.

It’s being alive.

It’s balance between dreaming and living. Between looking ahead, in the now, and, only with gratitude, back.

It’s living life how you want to live it, simply because you can.

Simply because that’s the way it was meant to be lived.

 

 

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idk deep

You didn’t ask, because why would you?

Why would you know something is going on? That something is OK to talk about?

You didn’t ask, because why would you?

How would you know? Why would I expect you to?

I don’t.

One of the toughest parts of facing an eating disorder, anxiety, depression and/or all of the above, is talking about it with other people. Or you know, not talking about it all.

Because you want people to relate, but at the same time you don’t. Many people in your life may struggle to a certain degree, some may struggle more than you, some may not know what you’re talking about at all. And while this may cause strife in relationships, or irritation within yourself when someone close to you “doesn’t get it” — you need all levels of relationships on your journey.

You need someone that gets it, someone that has been there. And while it pains me to think of my loved ones going through anything similar — I am grateful for the friendships that allow me to discuss my struggles on that level.

You need someone that kind of gets it, that you can help from your own experience and strategies in order to mitigate theirs from escalating. You need those that can calm you down while also, kinda, sorta, understanding.

And, you need those that don’t get it at all. For a long time this one was tough for me. I wanted the people I loved the most to ask me what was going on, to take it seriously, to say the right things — to get it. But they didn’t — because they didn’t know how. What I realize now is that these people aren’t there in the way I hope they can be, not because they don’t want to, but because they can’t. Because they don’t know how.

Because they don’t get it.

And thank god for that.

I am so incredibly happy that many people haven’t experienced similar things. I am so incredibly happy they can’t show up for me fully in ways I sometimes wish they would.

And I see that now.

I spent a lot of time when I first started facing what was going on with me alone. Not because I was afraid to tell people, but because I wasn’t getting the responses I hoped for — the responses that probably didn’t exist, the responses that I probably didn’t even know I was hoping for, because it’s possible that nothing would have ever been the “right” thing to say in those moments. But I’m done with that. I’m done wasting years of my life exuding negative energy toward people I love that love me back, simply because they can’t do exactly what I need.

Because the truth is, they’re doing everything they can.

And everyone doesn’t need to be everything to me.

They’re there when I call. They listen when I go through the same things over and over and over again.

They’re there.

And they love me.

And I love them.

And that’s all I need.

I guess all of this is to say, there is not one answer. Not one cure. Not one strategy, one therapy session, one group meeting — one person that will save you.

It’s all of those things and it’s more.

It’s knowing what different people can be to you in your journey to freedom. It’s trial and error. It’s failing miserably and getting back up and trying again. It’s looking deep within yourself and not being afraid of what you might find.

It’s waking up each and every day and making a choice to fight. A choice to get better. A choice to live the life you know deep down in your heart you deserve.

It’s all those things and it’s more.

I’ve been on a path to figuring out my battles for a few years now. Sometimes I think I’m there. Sometimes, I feel like I’m back to square one. Sometimes I fight and other times I don’t. Sometimes I’m honest with myself and sometimes I’m a liar.

I fail. I fail hard.

I get back up again.

I don’t know the answer — I wouldn’t be writing this if I did. But I think that’s because there isn’t one.

It’s a choice. It’s faith. It’s allowing hitting rock bottom to help guide you to the top.

It’s all those things and it’s more.

And I want to say thank you. Thank you for being here for me while I struggle. Thank you for holding my hand when I’m walking alone. Thank you for worrying about me even though I wish you didn’t have to. Thank you for forgiving me for thinking you weren’t there for me when you were.

Thank you for loving me.

For awhile I’ve gone about my “new life” pretending as though nothing is wrong because sometimes it’s easier that way. But the truth is I still have battles. They’re smaller than they used to be, sure. But I still have to fight. And sometimes, I still have to lose.

I don’t know what the rest of my journey looks like. I’m sure it’ll be a total and complete mess most of the time. It’ll be deviated, I’ll stray from the map.

But I intend to keep moving.

This time, I don’t care what my destination is. I don’t care what’s at point B. I care about what’s along the way.

I care about falling and proving to myself that I am strong each and every time I pull myself back up. I care about the unexpected stops in the route, the flat tires, the beautiful highways.

I care about it all. And I accept that it won’t be perfect.

What I don’t accept, is not getting in the car at all.

And I’m scared. I’m scared that I’ll find out that I’m vain, more fucked up than I thought, or anything else. I’m scared of taking my time to do this. I’m scared of admitting it. I’m scared of finding new coping mechanisms and straying from my comfort zone.

I’m scared, but I’m doing it anyway.

I’m living the answers instead of trying to find them — by making little choices to fight and forgive and love and fall and get up and sweat and cry and work each day.

And I guess that’s what I came here to say.

The Ultimate Balance

We hold a fear in our mind and our hearts – and we hold it very dear.

It sits within us, every once and awhile mustering up the courage to come out, every once and awhile causing us paralysis – an inability to just, simply, move.

We fear that we will look back one day and wonder “what if.” We fear that we will one day tell our children of our youth and wish we had more to say. We fear that we aren’t taking enough chances – that we are playing it safe in the name of societal norms and the burdens of adulthood. We fear not living true to ourselves due to our need for acceptance, security, and a perceived lack of time.

We fear not following our dreams.

We fear that we will look back one day and wonder “what would my life be like had I not held so steadfast to the picture of what my life would be like in my head.” We fear that we will one day have no children to tell our stories. We fear that we are making irrational mistakes in the name of following our gut and not living for the man. We fear that, in the pursuit of living true to ourselves, we are losing sight of what that even means.

We fear chasing the wrong things.

But mostly, we fear that our deepest desires and dreams will not bring us the peace we are looking for. We fear that we will never find contentment – that we will run to the next thing our whole lives in search of something more.

We fear we have lost ourselves in the journey to our futures. We fear that we aren’t living in the present moment, enjoying each day.

These fears butt heads as they storm through our thoughts. We choose to go, and then we choose to stay. We choose to take the road less traveled, and then we choose to just be.

We are confused as our fear haunts our dreams and our minds.

We just want to be happy.

We just want it all.

We want the career, the apartment, the book deal, the city. But we also want the mountains, the family, the love, and the tent camping.

We want it all.

And we deserve it all.

But not all at once – not all today.

As we choose our paths, as we make decisions that will, inevitably, affect the rest of our lives, our fears cause us to question our every move.

Should I have taken that job? Should I have moved to that place? Should I have stayed put? Should I have ended that relationship, that opportunity, that road of life? When things don’t work out, do I assume it’s not meant to be or do I keep pushing?

The problem with these questions, is that we will never know the answers. We will never know if we made the right choice or the wrong choice, because the truth is, there isn’t a right way to do life. There are many different ways, and as long as you are authentic, as long as you are happy in the pursuit – you are doing it right, you are doing all you can.

Sometimes, we wish someone would just choose for us – just tell us what to do, where to turn – who we are. But we realize we don’t truly believe this. Not one bit, not at all.

We see ourselves in all different sorts of lives. We see ourselves by the beach, we see ourselves in a corporate firm in New York, we see ourselves writing in the woods. We see ourselves with a family, a brownstone, a farm.

We think there has to be just one.

But there’s not.

Because the world is too incredibly full of depth for that. There is too much to see, too much to do. There is simply too much to choose just one path and not wonder what the other road would look like.

It’s the human condition.

And so, as we navigate, we struggle to balance fearlessly following our dreams, with wanting to live in the present and embrace our realities. We struggle to make decisions and turn down good opportunities for fear of the unknown. We struggle in thinking the grass is greener, when our lawn is already perfectly mowed.

We fear.

We all fear.

How do we make sure we are not giving up on our dreams while also taking life as it comes and embracing opportunities that present themselves?

I don’t know. I don’t have the secret sauce to overcoming this. But I do believe that things work out. I do believe that things come into your life for a reason. I do believe in letting life come to you as you work hard to be your most authentic self.

But how you handle those opportunities, I think that’s up to you.

And I think, all you can really, truly do, is not second guess yourself as you choose. All you can really do, is take it all as a learning experience in life.

All you can really do is learn the lessons that life is teaching you with each choice you make.

That’s all you can really do.

Embrace what you’re drawn to. Embrace your opportunities. Embrace your choices.

Embrace your fears.

And most importantly, try to not think about this shit every once and awhile, you should be out there living, afterall.

The Solution

The last nine months I participated in a leadership program through The Chamber of Commerce in Reno and Sparks, Nevada. We spent the time doing many things, the most important being helping an important cause.

We worked to raise money, awareness, and more for Awaken, a local non-profit with the goal of ending human trafficking.

Yep, it was rewarding.

We came out of the program having done a lot of good.

And this taught me something.

This group of people came from all walks of life. Different ages, races, careers, geographies, religions — values. We came together, united for the right thing, and together, we accomplished a lot.

It’s amazing, what can happen when a diverse group of people with different mindsets and skills come together with one passion.

It’s amazing how much good can happen when we work together.

Lately, we’ve seen a lot of hate. We’ve seen a lot of silos, a lot of groupings and isolation. The problem with this, is that we’re not working together.

It’s important to identify and belong within certain religions, soccer groups, or anything else.

But if we forget that we are ALL human, if we forget that we are ALL the same, if we forget to work ALL together — we, well, we are in trouble.

It’s amazing what can happen with good people do good things together.

And I think the world could use more of that.

Eye on the prize

Hello peeps. I woke up to an alarming alarm at 4am to jump on a conference call… to have it rescheduled.

This is fine, because now I write.

I was thinking about a topic yesterday that I wanted to share with all of you. Last night, between attempting to go to the gym again after a year hiatus, and prepping for said conference call, I didn’t have the time to sit down and write it out for ten minutes. There’s nothing I despise more (actually there are probably a lot of things) than not being able to write when I need to, so maybe the reschedule this morning was a blessing in disguise.

Alright, long intro over.

 

I am working toward a hefty goal right now, one that I have always seen as just out of my reach. I finally ripped the bandaid about three months ago and have been working hard ever since.

I’ve learned an insane amount of lessons along the way, but there is one I would like to touch on today.

Keep your eye on the prize.

As we progress on our life’s path, as we discover more about who we are and what we want, we are presented with options. And while we are immensely lucky for that, it also creates a burden which we carry, wondering what choice to make and what road to take.

Within these three months of finally admitting what I want to do, many opportunities have popped up in front of me. Each time, it is difficult to say no, because, these are great opportunities… and what if I pass up a wonderful life?

What’s important to remember here is that, eventually, you do need to choose, at least for right now — at least for next.

But nothing is absolute. Nothing is forever.

One of my greatest fears is that my deepest dreams and desires won’t bring me happiness. I saw this when I finally achieved a six pack and size 2. Guess what? I wasn’t happy. I thought that is what I wanted… what if that happened again?

And so I worried about making a choice and going for what I want. I worried about passing up the opportunities in front of me — worried that I will always want more, that I will never be content.

But the truth is, if what you want is deeper than materials, if what you want is ingrained within the core of who you are — you won’t be happy until you try.

So maybe it won’t bring me happiness. Maybe I will pass up a wonderful life. Maybe I’ll get there and think, wow, what else is there?

But if I don’t at least put myself out there, I will wonder. If I don’t at least jump, I will never even give myself the chance to fall… and I need that chance. I need to fall. I need to rise again.

So, at some point, you must choose a path, always remembering it is not forever.

You must choose a path, and you must choose the one you want. You must choose the one that keeps you up at night. The one that, when you get just a taste, makes you shake with excitement and gives you butterflies deep in your gut.

The one that scares the shit out of you, the one that won’t be easy.

The one that you truly, truly, want.

Keep your eye on the prize.

Opportunities will come your way. Options will be placed before you. Decisions will need to be made.

If you’re working hard, you have a good foundation of experience, and you know what you want — don’t be afraid to pass up those opportunities. Don’t be afraid to dismiss options. Don’t be afraid to make decisions.

I have learned to say no this year. I have learned to walk away from great opportunities and wonderful experiences. Not because I am ungrateful or feel above them, but because I am opening the door to the possibilities of what I truly desire.

If you are following your dreams, if you are switching life paths, or even, if you are on a quest to better yourself in any aspect of life — remember that there are always distractions. There are always other options. There are always other paths.

Keep your eye on the prize. Your dream life isn’t going to appear tomorrow, but you could get one step closer, you could give yourself a little taste.

Put your blinders on. Quit staring at others and wondering if your road is the right one to take.

Just take it.

Enjoy it.

Claim your prize.

 

 

 

This passage sheds light on one of my deepest sources of internal conflict, and one of my deepest fears. Make a choice, realize that you do not need to choose just one your whole life… and most importantly, don’t let your figs die.

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My Battle With

I remember when I went to the dentist, a mere two weeks after the end of my training plan, when I was, the smallest and most muscular I had ever been. I had probably gained, like, a pound of water weight… or something. My dentist asked me how training was, and I said, “well, I’m not doing that anymore… obviously,” as I made a hand gesture toward my body. As if, OBVIOUSLY I wasn’t training anymore, because, look at me. GOD BLESS the dentist because if I had been them I would have been like, “WTF are you talking about? You’re annoying. Stop.”

It pains me that I thought this way, it pains me that it constrained so much of my life, so much of my happiness and openness to connection and love. 

 

I haven’t come clean about this yet. And, I can’t seem to get passed things until I write about them. What’s more, I can’t seem to get passed things until I share them.

So here we are.

I have struggled, for the past five years or so, with an eating disorder.

An eating disorder that eventually led to intense anxiety, depression… super effing fun stuff that I’m SUPER stoked to talk about.

I’ve been able to put on a brave face, throughout most of it, but I think the worst of it came this year.

This year, everything got to it’s worst. This year, I realized I was a walking self-deprecation – oozing the need for self-love and self-acceptance out of my pores.

Sound fun to be around?

Yeah… no.

Five-ish years ago, I became obsessed with how I looked. Though, I never really understood the fact that you actually could eat AND be fit and healthy. I was never overweight, though in my mind, I was. I saw myself different than others. The mirror tricked me – my own eyes tricked me – into seeing myself in a different light.

Every time I hung out with anyone, a comment needed to be made about my weight or food or fitness. Every time I ate off track I decided that “tomorrow” I was going to start a better lifestyle.

This, as most things do, escalated. It escalated slowly, as I was still in school and a bit preoccupied with figuring out my life and being social and working and getting a “real” job. But, nonetheless, it escalated.

Slowly, but surely, it became an obsession. When I had to “re-brand” myself and get serious about my career, when I had to become perfect in every way in order to be the badass career woman I wanted to become, it escalated fast. Why? It fed my need to be perfect. It fit in seamlessly with wanting to be organized in every way. If I ate the correctly planned meals, and followed the correctly planned schedule, I would be perfect.

Surprise, surprise…

I wasn’t.

As I started to figure out what to do with my life, as I began to carry the insane pressure of adulthood and the pressures which I put on myself – I freaked.

My obsession with my looks and food started to takeover.

I remember every comment ever made regarding my weight – positive and negative. I remember every comment made about my friend’s weight, my family’s weight, an acquaintance’s food intake, someone’s workout schedule.

I remember it all.

I didn’t look forward to trips, because of what I thought I looked like. I obsessed over it each and every day. I can’t really fully explain how much of my life it took over, because the magnitude is too great.

Here is what I dealt with, because, looking at me, you definitely wouldn’t think I had an ED.

That’s because my struggle is different than the ones that result in skin and bones.

My struggle results, actually, in weight gain.

I had never truly gained weight (other than the freshman 10 or so via alcohol and many-a-fun nights), until I started obsessing over it. I had never really had trouble fitting into clothes or obsessing over nutrition and diet until it overtook my mind.

So, as much as it still pains me to say this, I would overeat, in my mind saying, “I’m starting tomorrow.” Then, I would go on a crash diet for almost a week, just to do it again. For awhile, this wasn’t a huge issue. Maybe a little bit of weight fluctuation, but never anything drastic.

But again, as I navigated the world of adulthood and dreams, it got worse. As I strived for the perfection I once knew as a ballerina, it got worse. As I tried to live up to what I thought others expected of me, it got worse.

This is when my anxiety hit. I went to the ER for an anxiety attack, I had different bouts of freak outs, I couldn’t go a day without checking in with my calendar, schedule, and much too detailed of days (I’m talking to-do lists of normal things you should just know to do… because, perfect people don’t forget to take out their garbage, they just don’t).

So, finally, I decided to do something about it.

I entered a NPC competition. For those of you that don’t know, NPC competitions are those things where you eat on an alarm clock, weigh your food, workout multiple times a day, and then get a spray tan and walk on stage in a bikini to strut your stuff.

It was a great experience, and boy did I see results.

But here was the big problem with this strategy.

I wasn’t learning balance.

In fact, I was learning the opposite.

I’m not convinced that someone that was obsessed with food, their body, and everything else in that realm, should enter a competition where ALL they think about is what they look like, what they weigh, what and when they’re eating, and if they’re small enough to be on stage with the other girls.

Now, I really am not hating on this sport. It honestly was a great experience and if you are in the mental space to do it, I fully support that. I would just think carefully before immersing yourself in the experience.

Back to my story. I was in the final days of training, and I had a six pack. Like, a six pack.

But guess what?

I still thought I wasn’t good enough. I still thought I was “gross,” had more to lose, wasn’t worthy of the competition, love, or anything else.

I look back on pictures I took then, checking my progress as I did every day, and it breaks my heart to know that the person inside that chiseled body was so broken – still dreaming of the day she would be “perfect.” Actually, it breaks my heart to look at photos of the girl I was even two years ago, to know she was constantly worried about her appearance, constantly shaming herself and making comments so that “other people would know she knew she was…’fat.'”

It truly breaks my heart.

Now, toward the end of my training, a couple things happened that broke my confidence in half like a piece of firewood being chopped in two. You’ll read about this later, in my book, perhaps, but for now, just know I lost a lot of myself toward the end of this training. I became a walking ball of shame.

And what happened next, well, it wasn’t good.

I stopped training due to the broken confidence. And, within the first week of being off my perfectly crafted and weighed food plan, I was terrified of food.

I ate less than I had been in the final days of training (which by the way is NOT much). I was scared to eat too much or too little, since I had been on the perfect plan for so long, and I had worked so hard to get here. I thought I needed to lose more, still, even though there was really nothing to lose.

I should have known right then and there that I was headed down the path of self-destruction.

My confidence was broken. All I knew of the past four years was being obsessed with food and body image, crash/binge diet patterns, and weighing my meals to perfection (and eating on an alarm clock). I was terrified of food, again.

I was walking in shame.

And so, as you can imagine, I launched, hard, I might add, into my old habits.

Crashing, binging. Crashing, binging. Crashing, binging.

I stopped training. I isolated myself. I had forgotten how to truly socialize after a summer of no drinking and not being my once fun and carefree self. I stopped seeing my friends at the gym. My anxiety got worse, and worse, and worse. I was constantly ashamed which led me to my bad habits time and time again. I thought I was huge. I got depressed, and depressed, and depressed.

And I gained weight, and more weight, and more weight.

And I got more depressed, and depressed, and depressed.

I became out of control. Using food as my best friend and my worst enemy. My vice was food, rather than alcohol or drugs or gambling or whatever else people turn to, because, it numbed the pain I felt being so alone and trapped in a world where I wanted everything to be perfect yet didn’t know where to turn or how to get there.

I constantly tried to put myself back on eating plans. I watched my anxiety spike to insane levels. I felt the pain of years of not letting intimacy into my life due to body image problems and never feeling I was enough.

I wondered why I wasn’t normal. I wanted out of my own head.

Everything crumbled down on me, all at once.

And I let it.

It took me a long time to figure out what was happening, to realize what I was doing to myself.

Looking back, it sucks, you know, because I’m not stupid. I understand that eating well and working out and balance would solve all of this. I understand I have a great life and am extremely blessed. Believe me, I understand all of that.

But my need to be perfect was stronger than my understanding. My need to be perfect killed me, slowly, and then all at once.

I ridiculed myself over not being able to figure this out. I hated myself for what and who I had become. I despised the fact that I wanted to be a blogger. I hated my dreams and my big heart. I simply hated myself.

I didn’t appreciate anything. I couldn’t find happiness in anything. This had never been me, what was happening?

I felt out of control.

My need for perfection was what caused me to become the worst version of myself, rather than the best.

Funny how that works. Funny how, your greatest desire can be what ultimately pulls you  the farthest from it, if you don’t choose your desire carefully.

My need for perfection was stronger than who I had been my whole life.

But it’s not anymore.

It has taken me half of a year to overcome this, and I’m not there yet. Because, simply realizing and being honest about what is going on does not mean you are better.

It means you’re just getting started.

Your demons have been battling you for, in my case, years. And they have been, especially in your darkest moments, winning. They have been getting stronger, while you haven’t realized you even have the option of fighting back.

Now, you are stepping into battle, and you are weak.

The thing to know here, though, is that you are so much stronger than your demons will ever be.

And that is why you will win the war.

As long as you keep fighting.

So, my friends, my war is not over. No, not even close.

But I’m showing up to battle, I’m not staying home.

I have found peace in this mess, because I know now that I needed to get to the lowest of my lows in order to truly get passed this part of my life. I needed to try a crazy training plan, go through more crashing and binging, and all of the above, in order to let go of this part of my mind once and for all – to learn balance once and for all. I needed this to happen, so that I could live freely for the rest of my life – so I could free myself from myself and let go of my idea of perfection.

I often wonder where I would be today had my confidence not been crushed toward the end of my training. But I realize now that it doesn’t matter. Because my mind was still playing it’s tricks. I still didn’t believe I was enough. I still didn’t like myself, to the core of who I was.

And that’s what I needed to fix.

That’s why all of this happened.

 

 

The other day, I tried to, yet again, put myself on an eating plan and workout regimen. Because I want #results. But then I asked myself a question, and where it came from I don’t know.

The conversation I had with myself went a little something like this:

“Do you want to be the girl that eats six perfect meals a day and has one cheat a week and counts macros? Or do you want to be the girl that eats nourishing food when she is hungry, lives for the moments and not the food, works out to feel good, and doesn’t obsess? Either one is OK – but which one do you want to be? Which one are you?”

I realized, then and there, that I wanted to be the latter. Now, some people live like the first option, and are perfectly happy. I am ALL FOR THAT if that’s what fuels you, but, because of my mental health and what makes me, me – I knew that that path wasn’t mine to take.

I want to be the girl that is carefree. I want to be the girl that loves herself. I want to be the girl that let’s go of perfect plans and perfect looks. I want to be the girl that people want to be around. I want to be the girl I was.

That’s the girl I want to be.

For a long time, I used the fact that I had been dealing with this, severely, for a year, and before that, for about four, as my excuse. “This isn’t easy to get over when these habits and limiting ways of thinking have become so ingrained,” I would say.

And it’s not. It’s not easy, and it’s not supposed to be.

But the truth is, I was better longer than I wasn’t. I was carefree and myself longer than I wasn’t.

I loved myself longer than I didn’t.

The girl that is stronger than this, she is me.

She is in there, begging to come out.

And I just need to let her.

Things are meant to work out in life, and I just need to let them.

I need to get over this for the people I’m trying to inspire to live their best lives, because who am I if I’m not? I need to get over this for my friends, my family – the people I have yet to meet. I need to get over this for my readers, for my little sister, for the kids I might one day call my own. I need to get over this for the man I might one day meet.

I need to get over this for me.

 

Tears streamed down my face as I wrote those last lines. Writing is therapy for me, where I learn what I need to do and what steps I need to take to grow. It’s hard to come to the realization that you are your own worst enemy and that you are the reason your way of being has become the way it has.

But how lucky am I that I get to realize this?

Pretty f***ing lucky.

As with anything in life, there are many factors to something like this. There are many different facets of life, events, and everything in between that contribute to different hardships. I obviously have not gone into all of it here, because I’m saving that for my book (wink wink), plus, I’m just emotionally and physically (carpel tunnel?) drained at the moment.

But I do want to say this: I’m sorry.

I’m sorry to the friends that wondered why I cancelled plans. I’m sorry to the people that watched me change my attitude and way of being. I’m sorry to anyone that was ever hurt as I tried to figure out my path. I’m sorry to everyone on the other end of the line when I freaked out and cried over my own wrongdoings. I’m sorry if I made you question your appearances or health choices through my own insecurity and obsession. I’m sorry if I changed your way of thinking to the wrong one.

I’m sorry for the things I have yet to do – the things I might do as I continue to battle this every day.

But mostly, I want to say this: thank you.

Thank you for being there for me, even when I was a flake or not the same. Thank you for continuing to hang out with me even when I self-deprecated or wouldn’t let go. Thank you for texting me back about the same issue time and time again, when I’m certain you were exhausted from the same discussion. Thank you for forgiving me when I couldn’t forgive myself. Thank you for everything. Thank you for being you.

Thank you. Just, thank you.

I hope I can continue to do right by you, all of you.

And with that, I wrap up this extremely intense post. I apologize for the heaviness here, but this is one that needed to be written.

I forgive myself, I own this, and with all of that, I now move forward.

I love you all, and I’ll write some more sarcastic, fun pieces coming up. So please, stick with me.

Peace out ma homies,

Stasia

Storm before the calm

I’m working on some major changes in my life, and some that really scare me.

However, they are also what I’ve always wanted.

And that’s what makes them scary. Because, what if I fail?

What if it doesn’t work? What if I didn’t think this through? What if I didn’t do this at the right time? What if I was too impatient? What if I thought the grass was greener? What if I can’t do it?

And, the scariest question of them all, what if, this thing I have wanted for my whole life, what if it doesn’t bring me happiness at all? What if I’m constantly yearning for the next thing, constantly searching for something more?

These fears race through my head every once and awhile, threatening my decisions and my progress. Often, I give in. I give in to the fear, deciding I “want to do something else” that’s a bit easier – a bit safer. I give in to the stories I’m telling myself, thinking, “I failed today, I’ll start tomorrow,” or, “I can’t do this, I’m changing course.”

And there will still be days when I shift. There will still be days when I feel lost – forgetting my name, my favorite color, and who I am, to the core.

But more than that, there will be days that I don’t give in. There will be days that I say, “Yes, this is hard. Yes, this is confusing. Yes, I am going to do it anyway.”

Because this is what separates me from my old self. This is what separates me from playing the victim – the one that thought the world happened to her, rather than being the girl that happened to the world.

I’m changing the stories I’m telling myself.

I’m changing the stories I’m telling myself about who I am and what I am capable of.

I have decided to make this change in my life, and as I have done so, not everything has fallen into place perfectly. Some things are conspiring in my favor, sure, but some things simply are not.

And that’s okay.

I will not give in.

Because these tests, I will pass. These situations, I will figure out. These weaknesses in the plan, I will overcome through strength.

Going for what you want and having everything work out as planned are not the same thing. In fact, they rarely are. Going for what you want means doing it even when your plan isn’t perfectly penciled in.

So I am going to push, and I hope you do too. Because I am not a victim to obstacles outside of my control, I am not a victim of my own self-sabatoge – I am simply not a victim.

Because I want this. So I’m going to do this.

And I’m so lucky that I have the option.

No matter when you decide to follow your heart, life will happen.

There is never a good time.

Be grateful you have the opportunity to listen to your soul. If you have the ability to follow your gut – do so. And most importantly, have faith that it will all work out in the end, because somehow, it always does.