Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Too Much

“You’re not the same as you were before, you were much more…muchier. You’ve lost your muchness.”

I’ve spent my whole life being too much. In pre-school I was much too bossy of my peers. My teacher even commented that she didn’t need to be there because I told everyone what to do. During my elementary school years I always got in trouble for talking too much. Middle school is where I was much too confused on who I was (I also loved Justin Timberlake too much). Later, in high school, I was absorbed in the drama too much. In college I was much too lazy (mom would say I partied too much). The real constants throughout my life have been eating too much, thinking too much, worrying too much, overanalyzing much too much, and hating myself too much.

When I started dating a year and a half ago I realized for the first time that I am too much for some people. There’s this constant line you have to tread and it gives me WAY too much anxiety. Don’t be too forward but don’t be too reserved. Don’t be too smart but don’t be too dumb. Don’t try too hard but not enough. Don’t text too much but don’t disappear. Don’t be too nice but don’t be a bitch. Don’t be too emotional but don’t be closed off. Don’t be too funny but don’t be dull. It all boils down to, “don’t be too much,” which can be either end of the spectrum. Maybe I live my life in extremes but I am not a middle-of-the-road type of girl. Here’s what I know: I’m funny and smart, I wear my heart on my sleeve and emotions on my face, I fly off the handle but I always cop to when I’m being mean (it’s usually because I’m hangry), and I apologize too much. I will infuriate you beyond belief but I will love you harder than anyone ever.

My first relationship, he was too much, too. That’s how we could handle each other because we had the common ground of being too much for others. However, that was a ticking time bomb for when our muchness would clash. Ever since him I have struggled to find someone who is the perfect balance to myself. This dating thing is for the birds because I dizzy myself in the circles I spin agonizing on how much I should be of something. Well, I fucking give up. I’m done worrying too much about my muchness. I’m going to be as much as I want. It worked for Alice in Wonderland so damn it’s bound to work for me.

Don’t lose your muchness. It makes you who you are!

Friday, September 23, 2016

Sunshine and Rainbows

At one point in time this blog was the light of my life.  When walking Oliver, the dog, around the neighborhood I would come up with anecdotes, lessons, stories, etc. about the honest truths about weight loss.  I started writing and posts developed and one day I went live and it was so encouraging.  The huge issue with starting a happiness blog is that I set this expectation that I had to be happy all the time.  The truth is, it’s hard to write about happiness when you feel anything but.  I have struggled so much this past year and it’s hard to write about your trials and tribulations when your problems seem so small.  This is why I started therapy.  Just me and my therapist in a room on a couch where I can vent to her all my thoughts and issues.  So where have I been? I’ve been hiding.  I have this huge desire to be the girl I once was but she seems like a distant memory now.  She was untouchable, goal motivated, and incredibly disciplined.  I don’t know how to be her anymore. 

I felt really good for a few weeks—incredible even.  This came after a low point.  I didn't want to see people, I would cry a lot, and I didn't want to do anything but sleep.  I realized I had a huge problem.  I went to the doctor and tried to explain what I was feeling.  The only words I could come up with were, “off,” “sad,” “disconnected.”  She told me that she was listening to this podcast one morning and the speaker was saying that life has created this expectation that you’re supposed to be really happy and okay or something is wrong.  If you’re sad or feeling blue that there’s something wrong with you.  The truth is, there’s nothing wrong with you.  This happens to everyone and sometimes you just need to embrace the sad.  While she was telling this story, tears started streaming down my face.  Through my sobs I told her, “I just want to feel better.”

I think it's really hard for people to understand what someone who suffers from anxiety and depression is going through.  You think, "No one WANTS to get out of bed in the morning so I'm no different."  It's not that there's just a lack of want, it's that I physically can't.  In fact, if  I didn't have an animal relying on me, I wouldn't some days.  When a 23 lb. dachshund is sitting on your chest and whining in your face to go out and pee, you get up.  He's in charge.  When I have an anxiety attack, I can't physically sit.  I can't sit at my desk at work, I can't try to watch TV to distract me.  I have to pace, or drive, or just get the fuck out of wherever I am.  It sucks and it sucks even more that Cheetos puffs have a way of calming me down.

Life is full of ebbs and flows and not every week/month/year is going to be sunshine and rainbows.  For some, the thunderstorms just last a little longer.  October 2nd begins Mental Illness Awareness Week.  There are so many stigmas attached to mental illness that a lot of sufferers remain silent.  I have numerous friends who battle their own issues and I am, obviously, very upfront about mine.  For anyone struggling: you are not alone, you don't have to be ashamed of your disease, and I encourage you to seek help.  Let's all be #stigmafree and support one another through the tough times.  Recognition and acceptance are steps one and two.  Choose happy, y'all.

Monday, July 25, 2016

Snip, Snip

Short(er) hair!
I did it. It was huge and scary and much like ripping off a Band Aid. I did it in the moment, without much thinking, I just knew it was time. I had given up too many days, sacrificed too many tears, and allowed myself to become someone I didn’t like. The conversation started with, “I love you but right now I have to love myself more.” It wasn’t healthy. Attempting to be friends with an ex is never a good idea, especially when that person was your first real love. The fighting had started to overshadow what we once were. My happy memories of us were being clouded by anger. When I heard him call someone else, “babe,” it was like a dagger and it was my final straw. I cut him out, cold turkey, which is something I should have done 6 months ago. His biting words and cruel tone made walking away so much easier that day. Snip, snip.

I went to San Francisco for work the next day and felt so much lighter. I didn’t realize what a weight it was carrying that relationship (whatever form it was) around with me. I actually had people comment about how happy I looked. I felt it, too. For the first time in a long time I actually felt like myself again. A week turned to four and now it’s been six and I still feel SO much better. His, “have a nice life,” kept ringing in my ears and it fueled me to stay silent. Truth is, I had a nice life before him and I will have a nice life without him.

When you learn how much you’re worth, you’ll stop giving people discounts. It was time for me to stop giving so many fucking discounts. You don’t want to put in effort-- snip, snip. You don’t want to spend time with me-- snip, snip. You want to ignore me and only talk when it’s convenient for you-- snip, snip. I wasn’t just snipping out people, I decided it was time for a shake up and cut my hair. I am dropping dead weight and dead ends—a whole 8 inches gone!

For the first time in over a year, I’m putting myself first. I need to be my priority and I’m going to be incredibly selfish with my time. In 2014, I made a huge decision to put 100 percent of my focus into weight loss and it’s about time I do it again. How’s the saying go? “If I cut you out, chances are you handed me the scissors.” I’m collecting a ton of scissors, y’all. Demand better of the people you surround yourself with. We all deserve to have friendships and relationships with people who build us up and not tear us down. I am a high-value person and if you don’t like it—snip, snip.

Friday, May 20, 2016

Whoa With The Woes

It started with curtains and ended with a tree (hopefully). The middle was tears…lots of tears. I bought these super cute new curtains for my living room and decided to be really ambitious and hang them one night after work. As the anchors start pulling out of the wall, bending my brand new curtain rod, I realized I probably needed help. The pulled out anchors left huge gaping holes in the wall, which will need time to dry after spackling. I’m sweating. It’s 9 o’clock at night. I’m so tired. It should be noted that these windows face the street and don’t have blinds so leaving nothing up is out of the question. Duct tape to the rescue. My do-it-myself attitude (and ego) takes a blow that I can’t even hang a curtain rod on my own. No tears yet but there was a mini-screaming meltdown.

A few nights later, I take
Duct Tape Motif--all the rage!
Oliver in the backyard for his final outing and as I reach for the knob to get back in the house it doesn’t turn. I’m fucking locked out of the house. I’ve had 3 glasses of sangria and am in my sheer-ish pajamas WITHOUT A PHONE. Thank God for nice neighbors and a very speedy (but pricey) locksmith. Bill, the locksmith, I sincerely apologize for the tears, barking dog, and slightly inappropriate choice of clothing. As I sat on the stoop waiting for him I realized that I am alone in this. I don’t have a husband or boyfriend or life partner to help bail me out of locking myself out.

It’s decided that two things are needed immediately: a knob without a push lock and blinds (custom cut, of course). The new knob is installed in 3 seconds and I’m feeling so capable. I got this homeowner shit. I painted the two walls to get the blinds and that had its own set of issues. Seriously, painters earn every dollar they charge. What a pain in my tush. It’s time to put the blinds up and of course THEY DON’T FIT. I cut my finger opening the box and installing the hardware so I’m bleeding everywhere. I haven’t showered and I’m covered in teal paint. I’m a disgusting mess so it’s the perfect time to go to Lowe’s AGAIN. I box up the blinds and start questioning if I can do anything alone. I, obviously, can’t measure. I can’t install anything without the help of a man (or equally capable female friend). What made me think I could own a house alone? I’m irritated and seconds from tears and I realize while the man is cutting my blinds AGAIN that I stink—legitimately stink.

The blinds came with their own set of issues but after a few supportive phone calls from Pappadopolous they’re installed. As I sat and admired my work of the day I realized I need to calm down with the woe-is-me mentality. Yes, it would have been nice to have someone to call when I was locked out but without breaking a window a locksmith was probably needed. Sure, it would have been nice to have someone troubleshoot when I kept hitting the header around the window and couldn’t get the blinds up. They’re currently up with one screw and a few prayers, by the way.

While getting ready for work on Wednesday morning the doorbell rang and it scared the bejeezus out of me. It was my neighbor, the one who helped me in my lockout, and she had this look of apprehension on her face. “What now?” I thought.

Neighbor, “Have you been in the backyard?”
Me: “No, why what’s up?”
Neighbor: “Let’s go take a look at the back.”
Me: “Why is it bad?”

A tree in the land behind me lost a limb and took out a portion of the fence, which isn’t mine. Whew. Silver linings all around as it could be so much worse. It’s another frustration. It’s another woe-is-me opportunity. It’s another reminder that I have to handle crap on my own.

I had a little pep talk with me, “It’s time to suck it up, buttercup. Quit crying when stuff is frustrating and seems tough and figure it out. You are not a damsel in distress and have overcome way bigger problems than having to have your blinds trimmed. Put a Band-Aid on that cut and keep it moving!”

I think I got the memo.

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Things Are A Changin'

Those of you who know me really well know that I HATE CHANGE. I’m a creature of habit and change stresses me the eff out. Lots of things, exciting things, are changing. As you can tell from my last post, I’m a homeowner! I’ve been at the same apartment for 7 years. I shop at the same Publix, I go to my gym, I have my zone in Gainesville that I thrive in. All of this is completely thrown off by the move. I will have a new Publix, I have to change gyms (I’m currently shopping), and I’m living in another city, technically. This move was a huge leap out of my comfort zone and I’m actually very proud of myself for taking it.

My hesitation to change got me to 291 lbs. I was “afraid” to lose weight because I would have to buy a new wardrobe (heaven forbid my size 24 orange pea coat wouldn’t fit anymore). I was so uncomfortably comfortable in my fat shell. It was part of my identity, much like my red hair, and I rationalized that it would forever define me. There was always an excuse to get me out of losing weight and the excuses multiplied as the years dragged on. It all boiled down to too much work and too much change for my psyche to handle.  I'm still so thankful for the day I decided to face my fear of change and got my booty in gear.

I’ve been in the house over a week and I’m starting to settle into the new strides of life. I have a new (and longer) commute, I’ve shopped at my new Publix twice, and I’m loving the quiet life inside my new neighborhood. I am slowly realizing that I may need to purchase a pickup truck because, well, I kinda moved to the country. My neighborhood has 2 roosters to prove it.

This week I was reminded that I am capable of change. I need to make some more changes but it's about baby steps y'all.  Get out of your comfort zone, change those bad habits, and have courage to face fears.

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Home Sweet Home

 Eleven years ago, as an incredibly intimidated freshman, I moved to Gainesville. What I imagined would be a pit stop of 4 years has morphed into an experience beyond my wildest dreams. Here, in this ever-growing town, my friends became family, a part-time job became a career, and I lost and found myself countless times over. Here, clad in my orange and blue, I grew up. On Friday, I made the biggest/scariest/most exciting purchase of life. I closed on my first home. What started out as a whim became a quest to find the perfect space for Oliver and me. I did find it—tucked away just 15 miles north of the apartment I have called home for the last 7 years in the town of Alachua. I have been impatiently waiting for the last 45 days to pass so I could finally hold the keys in my hands (and of course reveal the semi-secret to all of my beloved friends/readers).

This house marks a new chapter for myself. It is step one of a journey I need to make and I need to make NOW. I have been incredibly lost over the past year and I needed something to shake up my soul. MY house is a clean slate, a fresh start, and an opportunity to stand on my own two feet. I finally have something that is mine and it’s a huge responsibility. Not only is it a very large monetary impact on my life but it feels like a huge step to being a grown up.

The thing that no one tells you as you’re growing up is that you really have control to design the life you imagine but not everything will turn out the way you plan. Yes, I always saw myself buying a home but I never dreamed it would be on my own. Society and romantic comedies have taught me that you get married, buy a house, have a few kids, drive a soccer-mom car and live happily ever after. I never pictured mowing my own lawn, being in charge of killing the spiders, and owning a caulk gun (thanks, Pappadopolous!). Instead of focusing on all the things I don’t have that I thought I would by this age I would like to focus on what I do have. I own a home, y’all! This is insane, overwhelming, incredibly scary, and extra happy!

Thursday, April 7, 2016

Goal Digger

I'm currently undergoing a purge of stuff (exciting news coming soon) and came across an old notebook from my first management position after graduation.  It was from 2009 and one particular page of notes was from a seminar where I was urged to write down 5 and 10 year goals.  I was so lost and confused then on what I wanted to do with my life.  The job market wasn't fantastic and I couldn't find a job in PR, which is what my degree is in.  This was obviously before my choosing happy movement and there it was in black and white; my first 5-year goal was to be happy.  I don't remember writing this, I didn't even remember this notebook existed.  The amazing part upon reading this with tears welling up in my eyes is that I got it.  By 2014, 5 years exactly, I found my happy.

I knew, even back then, that happy was what I wanted to be through this life.  Of all the words, of all the statuses, I just want to be happy.  I have someone in my life who is extremely money focused.  He equates happiness and success with having a lot of money.  In describing my happy life I said, "Happiness to me is sitting on my living room floor surrounded by puppies and kids and someone I love laughing beside me.  That's the life I want.  It's not sitting in a pile of money."  A few years ago I probably would have painted a different picture of happiness but, at almost 30, that's what I want now.  I am the product of a happy family and they are a huge part of why it's such a trait of focus for me.  You know what money can't buy you?  It can't buy the pure joy I get from seeing Oliver (my pup) when I get home from work.  He's tail-wagging-squeaking-from-excitement-jumping-up-for-a-hug happy to see me.  It can't buy the overwhelming love I feel when my godson smiles at me with his, nearly, toothless grin.  It also can't buy the exhaustion from chasing him while he crawls trying to sneak behind employee gates at Disney.  And money certainly can't buy the feeling you get when your cheeks hurt from laughing so much with your ridiculous friends.

I may not have it all the time but happy is still the goal.  It was 7 years ago and it still is today.  Chase it, choose it, live it.

Monday, April 4, 2016

The Clock Don't Stop

There’s something amazing to be said for timing. Weight loss, and many other aspects of life, are all about when you’re ready. If you’re not ready to shed the pounds, get healthy and lose, you will struggle with yourself and not be successful. I have been forcing so many things in life. I’ve been forcing the timing of getting back on track, which only frustrates me when the scale doesn’t move. I’ve been forcing some emotions to remain deep inside, which only makes them angry and want to surface more. The truth that I’ve been hiding from is I haven’t been taking care of me. I’m having sleep issues again, so I take OTC stuff to sleep, which causes me to need 8 hours and I, therefore, can’t wake up to get to the gym. I’m being incredibly unhealthy and the root of the issue is not sleeping. Sleep is how we reset, we find peace, we dream. Life requires sleep. The weight, the stress, the anxiety are all symptoms of not getting back to basics and sleeping. No, it’s not caffeine and it’s not from lack of exercise. This is a deeper issue and I’m trying to figure it out.

Life is, hopefully, an incredibly long journey and a friend helped me to realize that this is MY JOURNEY. It was chosen for me, it was created for me, and it was designed with me in mind. Everyone has issues/struggles/battles and person A’s do not diminish person B’s. It’s possible that struggle was determined before birth in this life. My struggle, for this lifetime, is lack of self-love, self-acceptance, and comfort and happiness with myself. The weight I bear is a result of not dealing with this.  I assumed that an inability to find anyone to love me was because I was fat.  False, I don't accept me, I don't love me, and I don't want to be alone with myself--why would anyone else?

We all have shit in our lives, we all will (or have) faced tragedy, and of all the years we get on this planet they can’t all be rosy. It’s an interesting way to look at life and I challenge you to take this perspective. I woke up today, Monday, feeling completely defeated but one conversation helped me realize that this is my journey, this path was chosen for me, and it’s up to me to learn/grow/flourish not in spite of but because of the obstacles. I am grateful to God (you can choose your deity) for this life and for deeming me strong enough to handle it.  I'm also grateful to the friend who served me with some perspective.  It's all in our hands and our minds are open to anything and everything.  We have the power to create a life we desire, we just have to harness and unleash it.

Thursday, March 10, 2016

Accountability is the New Black

This is the picture that broke me.  This photo, of me on Tower of Terror at Disney, was what made me want to jump start my healthy life again.  I have 3 chins and an embarrassing muffin top (I named her Mindy).  This picture shows the 30 lbs.  I can't be that girl again.  I was more terrified seeing this photo on the screen at the end of the ride than I was on the actual ride.

Many of you reach out and tell me how awesome/inspiring/motivating I am--again, thank you--but some of you haven't caught on by now that I'm human.  I mess up, I fall off the wagon and I eat dessert (sometimes twice!).  I promise, YOU ARE NOT ALONE.  You're not the only one who can't wake up and go to the gym without someone stabbing you with a branding iron.  You're not the only one who has to use his/her hands as blinders as you walk past the bakery section at the grocery store.  I've been there.  I've been you--shit, I AM you.

I decided to do a hard reset and do another juice cleanse.  This would be my 4th cleanse in a year and each round I don't think I'm going to make it and then I miraculously do.  I did a 3-day BluePrint Cleanse.  No, I don't do these cleanses to lose weight, although it is an added perk.  I do these to remind my body what it's like to truly be hungry and to convince my brain that it doesn't need so many calories to survive.  Also, YOU FEEL SO FREAKING SKINNY.  I started on Monday, cheated with 2 slices of cucumber Tuesday, and totally ate a baked potato yesterday, the last day.  I wanted it so bad and it's all I could think about.  I lost a total of 5 lbs. and woke up today feeling like I could run a marathon.  Also, I exercised on Monday and Wednesday, which I usually shy away from while cleansing.  I developed a nasty little habit of drinking coffee every day so the withdraw headaches were intense this week.  I need to start seeing this as an occasional treat.  The caffeine, creamer and aspartame aren't great for me so I'm going to try to stay away as long as I can stand it.  Juicing cuts out dairy and protein and I'm trying to make it through the weekend keeping that up.  My skin looks amazing and my gut feels good.  Positives all around!  This was exactly what I needed. 

I understand this isn't for everyone but I challenge you to do something you believe isn't possible.  I complain constantly during the cleanse that I'm not going to make it but I always do!  I meal prepped last night to get me through the next few days post-cleanse.  My fridge is full of homemade cabbage soup, non-dairy yogurt, fresh fruit, and fresh veggies.

I finally feel ready to get my eating back in order.  I'm motivated and desperately need my shorts to fit as it's supposed to hit 90 degrees soon!  My friends (love y'all!!!!) are keeping me accountable and I'm pushing them, too.  Join our movement.  Be healthy today.  Go for a walk, eat well, and take care of YOU.

Do it.  

Love, Sarah

Going Through the Big D

Oh, hello!  Remember me?  The author of this alleged blog.  Yeah, I think I finally hit my biggest hiatus to date.  The truth is, I’ve been feeling like a failure.  I know many of you follow along this journey with me and I feel like a fraud.  Life changed in big ways for me and I thought with the weight loss all of my problems would be solved.  HA!  Why didn’t the anxiety and depression flush out of my system with the pounds?  Was that seriously too much to ask?  I solved the #1 problem in my life, being overweight, and adopted a whole host of other issues.  I haven’t been sharing my life because, honestly, I’m still up 20 lbs. and I have yet to do anything about it.  I lost January and February and, honestly, March is off to a slow start.

Okay, where were we? I think we left off right after the breakup part deux.  I was feeling like a bad ass for a day and then that all fell to the wayside.  Here’s what I’m learning about myself—some days are good, some are bad.  You feel the fog lifting and like you can conquer the world and the next day it’s a struggle to get out of bed and be a human.  I’m probably in a worse place most days than I’m willing to admit aloud.  I question every emotion I have and wait in anticipation to be crippled with sadness.  Then the D word creeps into your mind and you wonder, “Am I depressed?”  The truth is, most people have had a period of depression at least once in their lifetime.  I set an incredibly high bar on my life and when it doesn’t feel like it’s up to par I wonder what the point of it all is?  Why am I going to eat salad instead of pizza?  Why would I get up early to go workout?  I can be just as depressed overweight as I can be today.  What the fuck is the point of working my ass off if I’m still going to feel less than okay?  And THAT is how I've been losing this battle by giving in to statements like that.  My life is a constant back and forth with my brain.  My brain says to eat the Cheetos, it convinces me to turn off the gym alarm, and it tells me that I’m not good enough.    
What didn’t help the situation is that I dated a whole lot (probably too much).  I couldn’t find anyone that made it past date #2.  Well, there was one but I have no idea what happened there—he disappeared.  It’s still puzzling to me.  Anyway, I had this epiphany one night (bear with me):

I started this whole journey because I didn’t want to be alone for the rest of my life.  I didn’t love myself, I didn’t value me, and I gave up.  I needed to lose weight to be the Sarah I was hiding all those years.  I didn’t want to be a party of 1 anymore.  I made incredible sacrifices, I triumphed over huge mountains, and I did things I never dreamed possible but I’m still alone.  I lost 90 lbs. and I’m still single.  So it’s me, right?  These boys aren't sticking around because they don't like my inner self.  It has nothing to do with the way I look—it’s me.  I changed a lot about myself and I might still end up single my whole life.  I justified that the weight loss meant nothing so why even try anymore?  It changed nothing about life so go ahead and eat the chicken fingers.  

That dark thinking and self-hate led to some incredibly sad and bad-food fueled days.  I started to place my value in the hands of these strangers.  I was letting them make me think that I'm unlovable.  The good news is that I'm working on it.  I'm working on me, specifically.  I had to make a list of all the reasons why I'm great and I could only think of 6.  That's how out of touch with myself I am.  It's not going to happen overnight but I am slowly getting my shit together.       

Thursday, January 21, 2016

The Bad Ass is Back

It was a Thursday, which made Thursdays my day. I would wake up, walk Oliver, weigh myself, write it down, take my measurements, write them down, weigh again (in case I lost a pound in those 10 minutes) and then finally eat breakfast. January 16, 2014 was a Thursday and it was the day that I decided to get ahold of my life. Here I am two years later and THIRTY pounds up from my lowest point. Funny how 30 lbs. ago was a low point and today, at a higher weight, is an even lower point. Today marks day 1, round 2 of my life. The last time I recorded my weight was January 22, 2015 and I was 201, 90 lbs. down. By the time April rolled around, I was down another 7 and was able to see 194 on the scale. I was SO close to the 100 lb. lost mark but then life happened and I yo-yoed my way through 2015. The last time I weighed 224 was August 30, 2014. I’m disgusted by myself that the last 16 months basically didn’t exist. However, they did exist and have molded me into who I am in this moment. The last 10 months have had extreme highs and extreme lows and I deal with extremes through food.

I’m ready to be that girl again—the one who was obsessed with the numbers, busted ass in the gym and didn’t let anything in life get in the way of her goals. I’m done being this sad girl who got her heart broken and couldn’t recover. It’s pathetic and totally out of my character. I am independent, and strong. I’m done with the excuses and I’m done waiting for someone to do it for me. I’m sick of my pants being tight, the scale rising and feeling prisoner to food. I was reminded today that it doesn’t matter where you start, but it’s important where you finish. I can’t feel this way again—defeated, weak, out of shape and fat. I’m sick of looking in the mirror and having my muffin top stare back at me.

Today, Thursday, I woke up, walked Oliver, weighed myself, wrote it down, took my measurements, wrote them down and ate a low-carb breakfast. Today is the day the fog lifts. Today is the day I stop letting my emotions control my eating. Today is the day I stop playing the victim of a broken heart. Today I am bad ass Sarah again.

She’s baaaaaaaaack!

Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Mayday, Mayday

Ernest Hemingway famously said, “Write drunk, edit sober.” Luckily, I have the option to do the latter because I didn’t have the wherewithal to hit the “post” button last night. I, admittedly, left the editing to minor details so I apologize in advance for the heaviness.  I promise I'll be funny again one day.

Dinner tonight was a red velvet cupcake, PB&J sandwich (no sugar added jelly and Ezekiel bread because balance, y’all) and 3 glasses of Southern Comfort. Ya’ know…typical Tuesday. Tonight’s good decisions are fueled by yet another broken heart (maybe only half broken this time). I let him back in and I questioned it every day. Looking back, I should have ignored his texts but I got sucked in by him again and his lies of how he’d changed. So I sit here, Oliver in my lap, overwhelmed by sadness and anger. I keep telling myself that it’s him…he’s the one with more issues than Vogue. I did nothing wrong. I gave him my whole heart, I did cute things for him, I supported him, I lost sleep, I did the 40 minute commute to his house to see him. My love, my affection, my attention wasn’t enough for him. Me, amazing/bright/happy/cute me, wasn’t enough. I’ve spent my WHOLE life never feeling like enough and here I am again. And I let him make me feel this way TWICE!

I know good men exist but, good Lord, why can’t I find one? He jaded me and I’m starting to think that they’re all the same. To the man sitting next to me at the airport yesterday, I doubt you’re sending red hearts to your wife who is in the bathroom. Yeah, I’m reading over your shoulder and you should be fucking ashamed of yourself. I’m judging the shit out of you and how you delete text messages and Facebook messages to whoever Elin is.

Everything happens for a reason—I TRULY believe that. I have no regrets on letting him back into my world because I always would have wondered if we could have made it. I don’t blame him because I knew good and well who he is but I’m done. I want off the emotional roller coaster that was dating him. I can’t do this again. I feel broken, defeated and I’m exhausted. I have spent too much of my life feeling sub-par and I cannot live like this anymore. I am terrified of being alone forever but being alone is better than being in a relationship that doesn’t make you feel like your best self.

For now, I fight the urge to glitter bomb his house, spray paint his secrets on his front lawn or leave notes on the cars found in his driveway warning girls about what they’re getting themselves into with him. I’m better than that. Okay, maybe not the glitter one because THAT I really want to do. I think I knew all along that we wouldn’t work. I was and am incredibly confused how someone can make you so happy and so sad at the same time. I think that’s a pretty big sign of a toxic relationship. I don’t need sympathy, I would actually love to not talk about it. That’s what I pay a therapist for.

Why am I putting all this out to all of you? Why expose this part of my life? Because I promised to be honest with you, dear readers. That means telling you about the rainstorms and the rainbows of life. Also, to those of you who have ever been made to feel like you’re not enough—I understand. It sucks and it’s so hard to tell yourself otherwise but you are so much more than enough for someone. It’s so easy for others to see this in us and it only takes one person to make us feel like less. THAT person is wrong, and an asshole. To quote my very wise friend, “You have a charmed life, ma’am. Think of all your blessings. So he is not going to be a thing. His loss. You have a million other things going for you and you’re all he had. You’re smart, pretty, have family and friends that love you. A solid job, a nice place to live. Cute puppy. You are healthy. Life is good, Stewart, get out there and live it.”

I am going to get out there and live it and spend some quality time with Sarah. I’m very confident that everything I’ve wanted and needed is right in front of me but I just need to find the guts to take it.

Friday, January 8, 2016


I saw her out of the corner of my eye. She was in the car next to me while stopped at a red light driving to work one day. She was playing peek-a-boo behind the window frame with a huge smile on her face, and she started to wave when I finally looked her way. I gave her a smile and waved in return. As the light became green and her car turned into the hospital we were driving by, I slowly recognized her wispy hair and missing eyebrows. This child, no more than 5 years old, was obviously battling something unfathomable to me. I cried all the way to work that day and still cry now when I think about her little face in the window. While 2015 wasn’t a great year for me and I think about how many times I whined that I missed a goal, felt defeated by a pair of jeans, or sulked when a boy didn’t text back, it all seems so insignificant. We’re all going through things, and I certainly never want to belittle my or anyone’s problems, but life could be so much worse. That little girl put it all into perspective—we only get this one life, which is filled with ebbs and flows, so holy shit we have to make the most of it. I am an incredibly blessed person. I am not hungry (well, I am but you know what I mean), I have a roof over my head, I have amazing people in my life and, most importantly, I woke up today. I am alive and I have the ability to choose happy so I’m going to.

In 2016, I am resolving to get my shit together because it applies to several facets of life. With 30 on the horizon it’s time to get serious about personal and professional goals. I would also like to stop focusing on things that really have no weight in life. I’m resolving to be more thankful for and aware of the blessings of life and quit worrying about the insignificant details. Part of feeling better is BEING better. I’ll keep you posted!