Asshattery and the Anti-Anti-fragile

Dear Asshat at the Gym,

You don't know me. You don't know I once lost 130 lbs. You don't know I was a trainer, spin instructor and kickboxing instructor. You don't know I just came off a couple of weeks of major self-loathing and I'm fighting to stay above water. You don't know that this is a lifelong battle of mine. You also didn't know I was feeling pretty damn good yesterday. I took a pic of myself in only one shot and I didn't hate it. I had a singing lesson that made me not quite as certain I'll be making a fool of myself in 11 days time. I had some wonderful compliments from friends - one in particular who said she still saw my strength. I got my workout in and felt strong and saw that I still had muscle definition in places, though more hidden than before.

You didn't know any of this. You could have paid attention to my form and knowledge and seen that I was not a newbie. You could have also seen I had my headphones in which is the tell-tale sign of "Don't even think about talking to me". But you didn't. Instead you walked up to a "fat girl" at the end of one of her sets and said, "Hey, would you like some inspiration? 6 months ago I weighed 267 lbs. Look at me now. I know you can do this. Keep going."

I let you have your moment. I let you have it because I know logically it was not about me but about your excitement over your accomplishments. And I know you meant well. And that first big weight loss is a drug you want to share with everyone. So I let you have it. And I high-fived you, even.

What I won't let you have is the "good day" I had yesterday. You can't take it away by reminding me that to everyone else I probably look like a fat girl who is just starting. Yesterday was mine.

But I swear to god, you douchebag, if you ever approach me again you will receive a lecture on how you don't know where any one is at in their own fucking journey. And how if you want to say something to someone at the gym it should be, "Hey, nice set" or "You're form is great". Or, here's an idea. MIND YOU OWN GOD DAMN BUSINESS!!

Sincerely,

Cassidy
(The girl who will roundhouse a mother fucker the next time he interrupts her workout.)



I wrote this out to vent.  Actually the first draft had many more expletives than even I am comfortable with posting here, but the intent is the same.  Because this really hurt.  More than it should have.  And I realized it was my pride that was hurt.  And it was shame that I felt in his "inspiration".

Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever approached anyone like this at the height of my weight loss. Did I share it with people if it came up in conversation?  Yes.  Did I tell clients who were struggling and feeling like it could never be done? Yes.  But only after it was already a point of conversation.

The fact is I probably do look like someone who just recently started going to the gym.  And, while I can spot someone who really knows how to lift a mile away, not every one can.  So he didn't know who he was talking to and I can't blame him for that.  Though I may still blame him for his passive-aggressive compliment fishing.  That's my right.

I'm a big proponent of the "Mind Your Own Fucking Business" protocol.  I'm pretty sure that if more people would adhere to this it would solve all the major problems in the word - Politics, Religion, Human Rights.  Just Mind Your Own Business.  Please.

But when it comes to our bodies and what we do with them, I guess that's still everyone's business.   We're all sitting ducks for someone else to tell us how we should move, what we should eat or how we should be forcibly inspired.

No thank you.  Just no.  I get to decide how I'm inspired.  No one else.  That is also my right.  You know what inspires me?  People who stand up for what they believe in.  People who take risks in the name of personal growth even though they are scared shitless to do so.  People who know what their passion is and do what they can to chase it.  People who make a difference to someone else.

I don't give a shit what you've done for your body in the name of weight loss alone.  I never have - not even as a trainer.  What I hoped to give to clients then was a sense of control, of strength and empowerment.  I couldn't change their bodies in just one or two sessions a week.  That's impossible - a good trainer knows the real work takes places outside of those sessions. What I hoped to do was help to change what they believed about themselves in that time.  To show them they could do anything because they were already strong enough. I don't know if I ever accomplished that goal but it was what I set out to do.

Another friend mentioned that maybe this experience was my chance to work on being anti-fragile.  I know this is a popular phrase right now but it's not one that I really embrace.  I guess it really depends on what your definition of being fragile is.  Fragility that allows you to be broken and defeated? I don't want any part of that.

There is a huge part of me that is still fragile.  Fragile enough that some unknowingly insensitive jerk could hurt me at the gym yesterday.  But that fragility inside me is the place where I learn the most about myself.  It's where I feel and think it out.  It's where I continue to develop compassion and strive to never make another person ever feel that way because of my actions or words.  And when I am hurt that little bit of fragility eventually heals over to create a new strength I didn't know I had.

Thank you, Mr. Asshat at the Gym.  Today I am stronger.

Birthday Cake

I'm going to be 40. When?  Someday.  In a little over ten months to be exact.  But it's there.  It's just sitting there.  (name that movie!)  40 is coming whether I like it or not and I've actually decided I like it.  I'm ready.  I've got this.

A long time ago I decided that we were going to take a huge trip overseas for my 40th birthday.  It was going to be amazing, full of castles and Scotch and kilts, by God.  Except now we aren't going because, well, life.  It happens.  So I decided I would make a bucket list of all the things I wanted to experience in my 40th year.  Then I realized that I really don't want to go skydiving or be in a flash mob or learn to play guitar.  And traveling?  We already covered that.  The bucket list idea started to feel like a "to-do" list and I've got enough shit to do, thank you very much.

I remember a conversation I had with my sister-in-law when I was turning 30.  I told her I felt like my 20's were about figuring out who I was and that I hoped my 30's were about making peace with those revelations.  She told me that the 40's were about "not giving a fuck what anyone thinks of you anymore."  I like the sound of that.  But I'm going to go one bigger.  Since what others think of me really isn't any of my business I'm going to focus on the opinion that matters the most and that is mine.  But I have to get one thing out of my way once and for all. This right here is THE bucket list before I turn 40.

Of course this is the ongoing theme of my blog but it's time to make some real progress.  I refuse to go into my 40's still letting how I feel about my body determine my self-worth.  I needed a drastic intervention to finally get over this hump and onto some real healing.  There are so many other more important things to focus on.

About a year ago I wrote about my insecurities and how they manifested in a major fear of photography.  I badly wanted to be over this issue as it affected me in many ways, not the least of which is having no family pictures to speak of.  My mother-in-law has been lecturing me for at least 10 years that she doesn't have a family picture of us yet.  Yeah, yeah.  I'll get right on that, Hilda.

I've had a lot of feedback from friends who seem to feel the same.  Hating pictures is a universal theme in our own body shaming and the habit goes back probably as far as photography does.  Filmmaker and author, Ransom Riggs, has collected vintage photographs for years that he's found at swap meets and antique stores and recently published a collection of his "Talking Pictures" showing how self-deprecating people can be about their own photos.  I found it fascinating and I can relate to so many of them.

While this issue is not exclusive to women I think it's most prevalent with them.  Peter Gowland, famous photographer and author of Secrets of Photographing Women, once said, "Women are difficult to photograph because no matter how hard you try, most photographs just show how they look. Women want a photograph to show how they THINK they should look and that means having to get into their mind and discover what that image is. This is not a task for the faint-hearted!"  Since he was best known for his nude photography I'm guessing no one knew this better than him.

Last October I wrote specifically about a young body love blogger who appeared online in her underwear to show the world that she wouldn't accept judgments about her body from anyone anymore.  I admired what she did but under no circumstances was this an option for me for many reasons, the greatest being my fear of photography.  I've tried to cure it before by hiring a professional but it just didn't take.  I wasn't ready. It was going to take something more extreme.

A former coworker of mine contacted me after reading my blog and told me that she had the perfect exercise for me.  Boudoir Photography. Seriously?  Did she not even read what I wrote?  Tera was adamant that it would make a difference in how I felt about my body and photography in general.  I wondered just how much of her mind she had lost since the last time I saw her.

I may joke about going pantsless all the time but photos in my drawers may be the most terrifying thing I could possibly think of.  There will be no pants off-dance off when cameras are present.  Rule number uno, Tera.

I've been working really hard this past year to accept myself and to love me as I am right now.  Love first, change second, right?  I would love to have some beautiful photographs like that some day. But maybe if I just lost 20 lbs. first.  Or got my arm definition back.  Or thinned out my cankles.

No.

That's not loving first.  That's not accepting who I am, right now, before even considering steps to change.  And then there's 40.  And the bucket list.

I met with Tera, saw some of her boudoir work (she does not have a website set up for that portion of her profession yet) and made a game plan.  My husband was also turning 40 a whole 10 months before me and I thought maybe this could be part of his gift.  Body confidence and a sexy birthday gift.  Two boobs with one stone.

I enlisted a friend of mine to help me out.  I've got rudimentary make-up skills at best and I needed desperately to go into this with as much confidence as I could muster.  My friend, Bryna, is amazingly talented when it comes to make-up and hair.  I've admired her for both since I first met her almost 5 years ago. She's also a fantastic up and coming vocal talent.  But what I admire most about her is her love for herself.  She's crazy confident and after putting in the time and doing the work necessary for it she just exudes self-worth.  I want some of that.  Hair and make-up. Check. Check.

I spent several weeks trying to find things to wear and fretting over every detail.  I had mini panic attacks leading up to it. I even emailed Tera and asked if she was sure as at that very moment I felt I had NO business taking pictures in my skivvies.  Who did I think I was?  Tera was supremely confident I would be happy.  So much so she said she planned to use some of them in promotional material, with my permission of course.  No pressure there, right?

Two weeks after I turned 39 I stood in front of a camera in my underwear and the fiercest make-up I've ever worn, thanks to Bryna, having only ingested a limited amount of champagne and had my picture taken.  For hours. Of course I had a kick-ass sexified music playlist, too, but those that know me well know this had to be a given.  And I survived.  At my heaviest weight in six years. Dare I say I even had fun.

Tera was fantastic.  She was complimentary.  She was encouraging.  She knew what I was afraid of and how to calm me down.  She couldn't hide her own excitement when she saw something "really hot" through her lens.  I couldn't help but feed off her own passion for her work.  I knew it was a success.

Until two weeks later when she said she was uploading the pictures.  I came <this> close to vomiting. What if I looked horrible?  What if, through no fault of Tera's, every horrible thing I ever saw in pictures of me was visible?  I could still get him a tie, right?  Or some kind of power tool?

I believe my exact response to Tera after I viewed the pictures for the first time was, "Holy fucking shit, I'm hot."

The boudoir shoot exceed every expectation I had.  Every single one.  I was in absolute shock. Out of 99 pictures that she showed me there were maybe 3 that I didn't really care for.  Do you know what a big deal that is?  It's huge.  There are a couple that push my comfort zone but I promise you this - I did not look at one picture with any kind of negative dialogue running through my head.  Not one.  I didn't pick them apart.  I didn't tell myself the horrible things I've spent a lifetime saying about my body. What I saw was art.  And beauty.  And me. 

Tera said her retouching was only blemish removal and skin texturing.  There was only one picture  where she "liquified" a tiny bit of the back of my arm because my corset (I've always wanted a corset!!) had pushed it out funny.  Otherwise it was all me.  I can still see the imperfections.  They are still there.  But they don't get in the way of what I really see.

I may not be the size or weight I want to be but I am beautiful right now.

I may not have worked through all my body confidence or self-worth issues

but I am beautiful right now.

I can work out and get stronger and leaner if I want to.  But right now?

I am beautiful.

And since I have talked about my dislike for my legs and my cankles in the past I should mention that one of the most stressful moments during the photo shoot was when Tera decided to take a picture of them in all their glory.

And I am still beautiful. (And those are some bad-ass shoes I bought, too!)

I'm not changing the world.  My bare ass won't bring world peace. And you may not feel the same way about how I look and that's totally ok because I'm going to be 40 and it doesn't matter. It may sound silly to say but this was life changing for me.  Being able to say, "I'm ok right now, no matter where I go from here" is so freeing.  My internal dialogue over the last month has changed dramatically.  Tera was right.  It did make a difference.  I'm filled with gratitude for what she has done for me.

There are, of course, a lot more pictures and some much more revealing but I'm not going to put those here.  I do have to consider my children in this regard and their future internet use.  And frankly, it's not YOUR birthday.  But if you wanted more information on working with Tera Photography or another boudoir photographer in your area if you aren't local to Minnesota, I would be open to sharing what I know.  I couldn't be happier with my own results and I would encourage anyone to embrace who they are and where they are at with their body right in this moment.

In fact, this Saturday I have another photo shoot with Tera.  I'm finally having family pictures done.  My mother-in-law will be so pleased.  Life has been passing us by so quickly.  It's time to document where we are right now before my kids are grown.

I took Mathew to a spa for his birthday weekend.  Maybe I had one too many dunks in the cool plunge pool but with everyone pretty much living in their swim suits I saw so many different kinds of bodies and they were all lovely.  All of them.  And when we all wore our matching fluffy white spa robes we all looked the same, too.  It's crazy but that fact was so beautiful to me.

I gave my husband the photographs presented in a black leather keepsake box and I watched his face while he looked through them.  He commented over and over how fantastic they were and pointed out some favorites but I couldn't help but notice the lack of absolute shock that I felt when I saw the pictures for the first time.  Why wasn't he completely dumbfounded as I had been?

Later when I asked him about his reaction he looked at me with total confusion.  Then he said, "I am very surprised that you had the photo shoot.  It's not like you at all to do something like this.  But I was not surprised at all by how they turned out."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because I've always known you were this beautiful."

Hey, 40?  Bring it.

The More You Know...

I haven't blogged in awhile and it's been intentional.  Aside from the last couple of posts I wasn't happy with the direction it was going and I was at a loss on how to get it back on track.  It was whiny and pissy and not at all helpful to anyone and that's not what I want it to be about. In many ways my surgery set me back for a bit but I'm feeling pretty good now and ready to move on and get back to the work at hand.  What were we talking about again?

Oh, yeah.  Retired personal trainer.  Body image.  Vulnerability.  Shame.  Spanx.  Blah. Blah. Blah.

It just so happens that tomorrow is the one year anniversary of me leaving my job as a personal trainer, group fitness instructor and manager at the gym I worked at.  I was a hot mess a year ago - anyone close to me (and some not even so close) can attest to that.  Even four months later when I wrote my first blog I was still in rough shape.

So where am I at one year later?  What have I learned? I've come up with a list, in no particular order.

1. How I speak about myself, especially when I'm alone, is the key to just about everything when it comes to body confidence and recovering from shame.  Actively trying to find things about myself to be grateful for is absolutely necessary.  And I know I am not alone based on the feedback I got from people during my Body Gratitude project.
2. I do not miss working nearly every night outside the home.  But at the same time I can hear a song while driving and miss teaching so much it makes me cry.  I don't know when/if that will go away.  But I'm 99.9% sure I am not going to teach or train again.
3. I think that people that have battled weight issues and body image problems are so very necessary in the fitness world.  They have a perspective when teaching and training that people that have never battled these things do not have and the connection they can make with people because of this is amazing.
4. That being said, based on my own experience if you have a serious issue with weight and food and body image I would think long and hard before I recommended getting into the business.  It's a slippery slope and a difficult image to uphold even if you never have these issues.  If you struggle it can backfire on you.  If anyone is seriously considering a job in fitness and wants me to explain further, feel free to contact me.  Bottom line - if you can't balance taking care of yourself while you bust your ass to care for others - it's not the place for you.
5. Jeans.  They still suck.  Surgery or no, I still can't find a pair of jeans to save my life.  I think my issues are worse than they were before.  Not a damn designer assumes that if you have ass and thighs like mine you will have a flat stomach.  So as far as I can tell this is the truth: Jeans shopping sucks no matter what your size.
6. So have I lost weight in the last year?  I did for a little and now I haven't.  I'm about the same as where I started, aside from what was removed during the surgery.  Some may view this as a failure but I don't. I had a helluva year that seriously broke me emotionally.  Any time this has happened in the past I have gained a considerable amount of weight. To maintain for a year while struggling so much is a big deal for me.  I'm going to chalk that one up as a win.
7. When I left the gym I thought to myself, "I'll show them.  When they see me next I'm gonna be thinner and stronger and ripped and hot...", etc.  Yeah, that didn't happen.  Do you want to know why?  Other than the fact that none of the people that hurt me would have even given a shit nor have they stayed in touch anyway, my desire for "revenge skinny" was impossible.  It can't happen.  Approaching health and weight loss out of anger and frustration and retaliation will never, ever work.  Your body knows better than you when it comes to knowing what motivates you.  I had healing to do before I could even think about changing my body.
8. Can you still change your body while loving it?  I think you can though if I'm being honest I still struggle with it.  I try to focus on stopping the negative thoughts when I think about how I would like to change and focus more on the health aspects.  And I really do miss feeling and looking strong.  The recovery from surgery (and the lack of a routine since then) has really taken it's toll.  I'm ready to get back to it and lift some heavy shit.
9. This:
   
   
10.  I'm not meant to completely avoid any particular food group.  I've tried and I've played with it all year.  It's just not for me.  Whatever you do to lose weight you have to be willing to do forever.  Am I going to have some bread?  Yeah, I am.  *shrugs*  What else will I put my favorite cheese on?  Moral of the story - balance, moderation, focusing on whole foods.  This is what works for me. It worked before and it's what I can maintain. I will no longer vilify any particular food group.  Except cucumbers.  I hate those things.
11. Moisturizer.  Get some.  I've been horrible at skin care for 38 years and I finally got on board.  What a dumbass I've been.  Get thee to the mall.
12. Weight loss or surgery - neither of these will fix you on the inside.  Whatever problems you had before you will have them after.  You'll just look different on the outside.  God, I wish I had a dollar for every time I've had to relearn this.
13. I seriously hate Fitspiration pics.  You know - the Nike-esque pictures with motivational sayings that also happen to include a picture of a woman so graciously sprayed down with fake sweat so as to enhance her nearly perfect, body fat free physique?  Google Fitspo and you'll see what I mean. 
    
    I like most of the messages and I give the people credit for their hard work but I'd venture to guess that 95% of these people are fitness models who have never really battled weight and have a natural ability to build muscle (not everyone can look like that no matter how hard they work and that's the damn truth - a lot of it's genetic).  I am not motivated by pictures of women that I will never in my life look like, no matter how much lifting I do.  And don't get me started on the air brushing.  It's worse than the fashion industry.  Show me real pictures of real people busting their ass and getting REAL sweaty and I'll be inspired.  And who the fuck works out in those outfits? 
14. I'm not always a nice person.  There.  I said it. Recently I found out that my former boss was fired from his current job and for a brief moment I was ecstatic.  I was triumphant.  It was one giant "I told you so"/middle finger and I had won.  But deep down I know this does not really make me feel better.  And I do worry about the financial situation that his family must face.  I need to be better than this because his pain will never truly make me feel better.  My problems are my problems.
15. Sometimes it takes a real asshole to push you to make the decisions you need to make. (see above) (Yes, I know it's not nice to call names.) (I already told you I wasn't a nice person.) (see above) Fact: It was time for me to leave my job.  I wasn't taking care of myself.  I was burned out.  My family was suffering.  I was miserable.  But my sense of obligation to that place, my manager and my friends/clients/class regulars kept me from making the decision I had to make.  I owe the owner a debt of gratitude for pushing me that last little bit that made me gather up the pride and strength I had left and say "peace out".  Thank you.
16. Obagi Pore Therapy Toner.  Get some.
17. Sexy panties really do work wonders.  Even if no one else can see them you know they are there.  Again, get thee to the mall.
18. This one is a doozy and just came to me in the last couple of weeks.  It will take some explaining.  You know how some people can pinpoint what started their weight gain?  Abuse, rape, broken hearts - no wonder people are self-medicating.  I actually think food is the safest way to ease that pain.  It could be so much worse.  I could never figure out what my "thing" was.  I've had some inklings.  I know of some pivotal moments for me but there is no concrete reason.
    
    Then the tornadoes hit Oklahoma, my birth state.  My grandfather still lives there and no one could reach him to find out if he was ok.  In the end I decided to email one of my aunts that hasn't spoken to me in years.  To describe everything that happened between me, her and her younger sister that ended our relationship would take way too long.  Just know that it changed me forever.  I grieved no differently than if they had died.  Maybe worse because I knew they completely rejected me.  Two people that I felt as close to as if they were my sisters.  I promptly slipped into a major depression back then and gained a shit ton of weight.  My highest weight even.
    
    I prepared an email for her to find out what she knew.  They often know more about family goings-on than the rest of us "black sheep" and neglect to tell us anything.  I didn't even know if her email was the same.  It took all I had to hit the send button.  My heart was racing, my stomach sick, tears running down my face.  What if she got my email and didn't respond?  What if she didn't get it and I just assumed she was ignoring me?  What if she actually responded and I had to take down the wall I had so meticulously built up around that part of my heart so I couldn't be hurt again by her?  This was a no win situation and it scared the shit out of me.  But I hit send anyway.  Seconds later I got a text saying Granddad was ok.  Mother fucker!!!  (Not Granddad.  Just the fact that I opened that can of worms when I didn't have to.)
    
    This is my "thing".  And I would venture to guess it's a lot of people's "things".  Rejection. Abandonment. Being ignored. Loss of love and affection.  And it all leads to one place - "I'm not good enough."
    
    A lot of people have wondered why I was still hung up on this gym or the people there.  Why did it still affect me so much?  Why I was still hurt by the loss of a friendship that I thought would last a very long while but virtually disappeared the second I was no longer there to bust my ass?  Why can't I just get over it?
    
    I can tell you it goes back farther than that.  It involves rejection from my father by absence. It includes my grandmother moving away and taking some of the people I cared most about with her. Attending seven different schools between kindergarten and senior year and having to lose friends and make new ones all over again each time. It includes being abandoned by every single one of my friends when I chose to marry the person I'm still with today.  It involves a group of online friends that I love dearly and were pivotal in my weight loss that I lost for reasons I can't exactly explain but I'm sure I'm responsible for at least half of, if not more, for I have developed a nasty habit of pushing people away before they hurt me.  And it includes losing two aunts who were there for me at some of my darkest moments when I lost a pregnancy and battled post-partum depression so severe it almost ended my life.  They just left me.
    
    Leaving the gym scared the shit out of me because I knew it would mean I would lose people again and I didn't know if I was strong enough for it.  And the one person I thought I wouldn't lose I did lose.  And in the defense of everyone from the gym that I felt had hurt me, they didn't know they would have the burden of fending off all my baggage on this issue.  This is my load to carry.  Not theirs.  I have to forgive them for they didn't have the whole picture or know what their actions would do to me.
    
    In the end this is still a success for me on this one year anniversary mark.  It hurt me and it was so hard to lose people again, but I made it through.  Just like I did before.  I'm still here.  Annoying the hell out of you people now.  Maybe I'm starting to get stronger than my "thing".
19. Love first.  Change second. (I ought to trademark the hell out of that)
20. And last but hopefully not least - this:

I'm ready to let it go.  Trainer and instructor - that's all in the past.  I'm just me now.  No one to answer to but myself when it comes to my own body.  It will continue to be a life long battle I'm sure and I'll do my best to write more often and share my experiences for as long as anyone finds it useful or relevant.  And maybe for a while past that as long as it's useful to me.

Oh!  I just thought of one more!

21. I'm kind of a big fucking deal.  And so are you.

New Year's Evolution

Happy New Year!  Today is the first day of a brand new year where people feel the powerful lightness of new beginnings and clean slates.  Fresh commitments to be a better person, parent, spouse, employee.  To be organized and punctual and vice-free.  And, most commonly, thinner.

I hate New Year's Resolutions primarily because they don't last.  They have very little staying power.  Any decision made while suffering from a hangover and after being tagged in far too many NYE party photos making your duck lip face shouldn't be taken too seriously.  And very often it's not.  I've seen it time and time again in the gym - the place is packed the first few weeks in January.  You can't get a machine to save your life.  By early February there is a little more room in those classes you wanted to attend.  By the end of February you have the run of the place again.  And as quickly as that the Resolutioners disappear.

This is why I wanted to try my Body Gratitude experiment.  What would happen if I entered the New Year having already practiced for a month what I'm convinced is the secret to all successes?  What if I had already laid the ground work for a brand new tone for my life?  Would I feel differently at the end of 2013 than I felt about 2012?

2012 was personally one of the hardest years I've had in awhile.  Not the hardest, mind you.  I've been through much worse.  But this one really got to me.  By mid-year I was beat down physically, emotionally and spiritually and it took the rest of the year to try and climb back out of that hole.  The worst of it all was not what people did or said to me.  It's what I did and said to myself.  I was a horrible friend to myself.  And like a lot of women I let all that self-hatred manifest itself in hatred for my body.

So, enter 30 Days of Body Gratitude.  Today is day 30. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be.  I was able to come up with 29 separate entries for physical attributes I loved, liked or was ok with.  Contrary to what many thought it wasn't about complimenting or bragging about myself.  It was about making a conscious effort to say nice things to myself and change that internal dialogue.

And you know what?  It kind of worked.  I spent a lot of time each day thinking about what I wanted to post about or how I could spin something that normally was a negative thing for me and change it to a positive one.  I felt responsibility in living up to what I was preaching about so any time I felt those "ugly" thoughts or "fat" thoughts coming on I quickly changed those words in my head or, more importantly, thought about what emotion I was feeling that made me want to say those things and I tried to deal with the real issue.

The best part of all of this wasn't what I said to myself each day.  It was the feedback I got from others and the gratitude posts from them.  There weren't a lot of people that went the distance with me.  I had quite a few that started strong and didn't make it.  I had a few that just popped in once in awhile to contribute on days when they were probably feeling pretty decent about themselves.  I had a few surprises from people who never posted but at the end said they were sad to see it go as it made a difference in how they looked at their own bodies each day.  How amazing is that?  That made it totally worth it to feel so vulnerable and exposed most days when I posted, wondering when someone was going to call bullshit on me.  And one gorgeous friend has decided to put her scale away for a year because of this project.  Fantastic!  I am truly inspired by all that came out to play with me.

Sadly, I had some friends who gave up quickly or couldn't contribute at all, saying that there was nothing they were grateful for on their own body.  That kind of self-loathing for their own bodies speaks to a much, much greater problem which was the real root of what I was trying to accomplish for myself.  It's what I believe is the secret to all successes or goals.  It's love for yourself.

So many think they will love themselves when they get to their goal weight.  Or when they find the right person to spend their lives with.  Or perhaps when they find that perfect job that will finally make them feel like a success in their professional lives.  But what if they have it all backwards?  What if the only way to get to those points is to love yourself first, thereby inviting all those things into your life because you are DESERVING and WORTHY of all good things.  What if the key to your resolution of being a better person, parent, spouse, employee is all about knowing, first and foremost, that you "are worthy because you were born"?

I'm still going to struggle with worthiness on a daily basis.  Even through all this gratitude I've been practicing I have still been battling with that which should be my birthright.  It doesn't help that I'm still hurting from losing friendships that I thought I'd have forever just because I made a career choice that was better for me and my family.  And just a couple of weeks ago I was reminded, yet again, that I was "a stupid mistake" (not my words).  It all takes it's toll.  But I didn't manifest those feelings into calling myself ugly or disgusting these past 30 days.  And that's worth it because those were my weapons of choice.  Instead I dealt with the real issues and feelings and felt what I had to feel instead of beating up on my body just to take it out on someone.  It was painful but I did it.

So what is my plan for the New Year?  I'm going to keep practicing loving myself and I'm going to find a way to focus on worthiness.  And I will not let a number on the scale dictate my worth any longer.  I know the issues are bigger than that and I will not shrink away from them and hide under a bathroom appliance.  This doesn't mean I won't try to be healthy.  I will still try to eat better and exercise smarter and feel stronger and leaner because I like feeling that way and I like being able to participate in activities that require me to take care of my body.  And there are still things that I would change about my body. But I will do my best to try to approach my body with the intention of love and gratitude for what it can do for me rather than trying to fit it in to some mold before I can love it.  Love first, change second. And I'm not calling this a resolution because those come every year.  I'm hoping to evolve to a point where I never again have to start over on this project.

I no longer have a goal weight or a goal size.  I really don't.  I do have a couple of other goals, though.  First, I'm going to try my hardest to never say anything to myself that I wouldn't say to one of my best friends.  Next, I will no longer wait for the perfect weight or size before I try new things or new activities. It's time to start living and achieving all the things I want for myself. And finally, my last goal is a line from one of my favorite Brandi Carlile songs - "Do I make myself a blessing to everyone I meet?".  This includes being a blessing to myself.  And unless there is some new way to measure blessings I'm pretty sure it has nothing to do with a god damned scale. 

May your 2013 and forever after be filled with all the blessings and worth that you are entitled to just because you were born.