The Weight of Anxiety

Hello readers!

Ok, so it's been literally YEARS since I wrote here but better late than never??

I am finding that I need to read my own blog these days and take my own advice.  If you read my last entry, you know that the last couple of years have been challenging.  Grief can manifest itself in many ways.  Sometimes your weight is a sign of your mental health.  Remember that old saying, "You never know another person's struggles?"

Thin is not always great.

The year that my boss/mentor was diagnosed with cancer was a...challenging year to say the least.  In fact, I spent thousands of dollars trying to figure out what was wrong with me.  "Why, what do you mean?"  Well, I'm glad you asked.  You see, my stomach had begun bloating 3-5 inches every day.  The only relief was the first ten minutes of my morning after sleeping.  My gall bladder was tested.  We tried changing my diet and excluding one thing after another.  Yet the bloating continued.  Was I suddenly lactose intolerant?  What was wrong with me???

In an attempt to ease my pain and discomfort, I lessened my food intake.

"What would you eat?"

"Nine eggs a day."

"What else?"

"No, that's all.  Nine eggs a day."

I rapidly lost about 15 lbs. and was bordering on being underweight, but I was so tired of my stomach hurting.  Occasionally I would eat some chicken or lettuce.  My nails were becoming brittle.

But here's the thing....

People were complimenting me.

"Looking great!"  "Have you lost weight?"

I went to get new bras, because my old ones were too big.  When I walked into the store, the woman asked if she could help me.  I said that I had recently lost some weight and needed to be resized.  Her automatic response?  "Congratulations!"

I don't blame the woman for her response.  It's what we're programmed to believe.  Thinner is better.  But what was lurking beneath was grief and a body that was barely keeping up.

Fast forward some time.  I gave up.  I decided to eat again.  Nothing seemed to help my pain and discomfort, so I resigned myself to believing this was just the way life was for me now.  I gained back some weight and got back to my normal size...in the mornings.  My clothes were struggling to fit because I was still bloating.  I read article after article trying to figure out what was going on with me.  My family doctor said this was beyond his knowledge and he would need to refer me to a specialist.  I didn't want to pay for that.  So I went for a second opinion.

"Let's start by cutting things out of your diet."  That was the second opinion.  Listen here, Doc.  If eating only nine eggs a day doesn't fix it, I don't think it's an intolerance.  I didn't go back to him.

Other signs started popping up.  My shoulders were in immense pain.  Then my dentist said the enamel on my teeth was stripping away due to clenching.  Up until that point, I hadn't noticed but once my dentist told me to be aware I realized was clenching my jaw nearly 24/7.

Then I would have moments of sheer panic about death.  Crying fits where I couldn't function.

I tried everything: meditation, prayer, yoga...nothing seemed to help me.  My body was crying out for help, but I didn't know what it needed.

I spoke with my husband and said I felt I needed a different kind of help.

And so...I became a statistic.  I was put on anti-anxiety medication.  My new doctor said he couldn't give me muscle relaxers, but that the issue was probably more deeply rooted.  I never processed my grief from losing a loved one and my body was suffering for it.

Folks, this ain't "I don't like social situations," or "I get anxious about speaking in public."

And here's the truth.  I hate it.  I hate that I'm now on two medications.  I wish I could just snap my fingers and make it go away.

When I was put on the medication, in a matter of only three months I suddenly gained nearly 20 lbs!  I couldn't seem to stop gaining.  It was out of my control.

So here's where I live now: in a world of good and bad.

The terrific news is that the medication has helped me immensely.  The pain in my body is subsiding and my stomach has finally stopped bloating after four years of daily discomfort.  I can handle the day to day much better.  I'm even starting to process some of my grief.  Some.

Here's the terrible news.  I hate my body now.  I've even started throwing out the "F" word: FAT.  I don't like looking in the mirror.  I don't like the idea that people may see me and think, "Wow, she's really put on the weight."

I am mentally flourishing for the first time since my loved one was diagnosed with cancer, but I'm having to learn to love my body again in a new way.  I have to let go of what I "used to be."  I have to accept what I am now.  Perhaps I won't always be this way.  Maybe I will.  But the truth of the matter is that I need to love myself no matter what.

You Only Have One Body

Hello my blog readers!!!

It has been over two years since I published my last blog.  And wouldn't you know I quit just before it started catching on?  I just discovered that my last blog in March of 2015 has been read over 6,500 times!  That's a lot for little ole me. I've had a lot of people ask me if/when I would continue my blog.  So here it is.  Unfortunately, I can't tell you the writings will be consistent, but here it is nonetheless.

First, I will start by saying that the last two years have been very challenging.  One of the owners of the company I work for and (subsequently) my mentor at work, passed away from ovarian cancer on August 22nd.  I had a different blog in mind to write tonight, but then I realized that I have something else weighing on my heart that I need to pass on to all of you.

Through those two and half years of cancer, we watched as a woman that we loved lessened physically.  She lost weight, looked flushed, and (towards the end) was merely an inkling of the vibrant physically fit person she once used to be.

The last time I saw her was a conscious choice on my part.  She was just about to go in for brain surgery.  Another tumor had appeared...this time in her brain. There was only one doctor willing to operate.  When I went to see her resting at home the day before the operation, she slept most of the time.  For the brief moment she was awake, she apologized for not being awake more. She apologized that she wasn't available to hear about all of the exciting things happening in my life (new house, engagement, etc.). She said she was working to keep her strength for the surgery the next morning. I told her there was absolutely no need to apologize. Her cheeks were swollen and flushed.  Her arms were so frail and thin.  She was having difficulty staying awake for long bouts of time.  So I told her to rest.  And then we hugged and said our final words to each other:

"I love you."

She lived for another six weeks or so, but I didn't see her again.  I wanted that to be my last memory.  A memory of a final, "I love you."

So many people can relate.  So many people have lost a loved one to cancer.  Just in January, I lost a childhood friend to cancer.  She still lived in my hometown (a five hour drive away), so I didn't get to see her as often.  But there was a final video she created to update her loved ones on her health status.  I remember thinking how pale she looked.  And swollen.  She didn't live long after that final video. Again my heart broke. Not too long after, another mutual friend posted our senior high school class photo on Facebook.  The beauty of social media.  And there we were. Sitting side by side front row.  Smiling 17 and 18-year olds, unsure of our future.

All of this say, readers, don't take your body for granted. It's not an object. It's a gift. It's a temporary vessel, but it is perfect in its imperfections. Whether we lose or gain weight. Whether our skin is dark or light. Whether we have acne or eczema. Whatever shape your body takes, it is beautiful.  It is beautiful, because your heart beats. Because your lungs breathe. Because your legs walk. Run. Jump. Think of all of the amazing intricacies of your body. All of the tiny mechanisms it performs everyday to give you life. It's a blessing.

We will all start to lose our faculties one day. Your body will start to fade. So, today, when you look in the mirror, think about all of the wonderfully fantastic things that you can do because of your body. Be grateful. Be thankful for it. For its service to you. For the opportunity this shell has afforded you to take this journey through this horribly beautiful thing called life.

Let's Get Real About Boobs

In a blog I wrote a couple of years back, I covered the history of fashion and the manipulation of women's bodies to achieve the "beautiful."  With the loss of corsets came room for the newest form of beautification: plastic surgery.

Plastic surgery has it's place in this world.  Let's not nit pick this blog like our culture likes to do.

Let's get real.

It took me until my mid- to late twenties before I could accept my own natural breasts.  Why is that?

Let's discuss.

As a woman it feels as though 90% of all sexy images that I see of women are those that have fake breasts.  And it seems as though the only women who have enough confidence to pose for sexy images have fake breasts.

Where did we lose our sense of natural beauty?  Where is the appreciation for the natural curves of a woman's body?  

We learn from a young age through exposure to media, men's magazines, etc. that women with large fake breasts are beautiful.  So I began to compare as a teenager, and my breasts were nothing like that.  I couldn't necessarily put on a tiny crop top and have 2/3 of my "under breast" hang out all nice and perfect like.  To get cleavage (even as a larger chested girl), I have to have a fantastic push up bra.  Cute summer dresses with spaghetti straps don't just nicely sit on top without a bra.  

All of these observations over time as I grew up affected me.  If I couldn't look the way that the pictures of the "sexy" women looked, then there must be something wrong with me.  I must look terrible.  I must be UNATTRACTIVE.  I must be UGLY.  After all, what did I have to compare myself with?  

Contrary to what men might like to imagine, us women don't just stand around looking at and comparing each other's breasts.  Our American culture projects women with plastic surgery everywhere.    

As I grew older, I came to some realizations.  Fake breasts are NOT what natural ones look like.  To compare my natural self to that is to compare myself to literally something that is plastic.  It's unrealistic in expectations and literally in the sense that it is not real.

Our young girls don't get to see what natural beauty looks like.  They are taught how to look manufactured and anything less is UGLY.  Our theories are supported by the onslaught of men's magazines who glorify women with fake breasts.  They grace more pages than a natural woman.  And then they are photoshopped to boot.   

As adult women, it's important that we embrace how our bodies look and teach our young girls realistic expectations.  When you place a goal in front of a girl that requires thousands of dollars and plastic, how is that fair?  The more photos and art of real women that girls see will teach them what it's like to be normal.  To feel beautiful the way they are made.  

I usually stay away from discussing men in my blog, but I feel as though I need to touch on this slightly in this one.  Men, let's talk.  Let's discuss how a tiny comment about a woman's large FAKE breasts can diminish a natural woman's self esteem.  They CANNOT and WILL NOT look like that without the help of a doctor.  When you make comments about other women, we listen.  We listen, because we want to know what you find attractive.  We want to know what you think is beautiful, so that we can be that.  Most women crave to hear from a man that he thinks she's attractive, beautiful, etc.  

And now I'm really going to get real.  I LIKE it when I hear a man say he doesn't like fake breasts.  It makes the rest of us women who are natural take a sigh of relief.  Because we're scared.  We're scared that you only want what's in the magazines.  We're scared that if we can't have our nipples facing the ceiling then we're droopy and nasty.  We're scared that you won't want us.

Let me show you top google search images when you input "sexy boobs:"

I didn't have to search anything else and all of the above came up.  In fact, out of the first twelve photos listed, only two women had natural breasts.  When I searched "natural c cup breast," I couldn't find anything but ads for "natural" and surgical breast enlargement.

Need I say more?

Bikini Bridge is the new Thigh Gap

One of the purposes of my blog is to educate my bloggers and enforce a healthy body image.

Sometime last year I blogged about the thigh gap.  This desperation to be thinner than our bodies support runs rampant in our young ladies' lives.  And now there's a new culprit:

The Bikini Bridge.

What is a bikini bridge?  Urban Dictionary defines it as the following (bold my own emphasis):  

1. when a girl in a bikini lies down and her hip bones protrude well past their flat stomach causing their bikini bottom to stretch across and gap is formed for a beautiful view of their vaginal front also referred to as hood.

When I see a bikini bridge It makes my whole day better!

2.  An incredibly sexy phenomenon wherein bikini bottoms are suspended between the two hip bones, causing a space between the bikini and the lower abdomen. This potential view into the unknown can be further accentuated by a third structural element contributing to the bridge-effect, the mound.

Here's a visual for you:

Let me start by saying that when you are a certain size, there is a natural curvature to a woman's body that can cause her hip bones to pop a little.  The thigh gap is finally getting a bad name, however, it has been replaced with the "bikini bridge."  Now girls are looking to starve themselves to have their hip bones protrude.  The more that their bikinis don't touch their abdominal and go from hip bone to hip it is more desirable.  

Why is a skeletal figure considered beautiful?  The submitted descriptions of the bikini bridge on Urban Dictionary are very positive.  I can imagine that men like it, because they can peek right on down to your who-haw!  (That's Texan for vagina.)  There are now tumblrs devoted to bikini bridges, and most websites that I visited found this new phenomenon to be sexy and hot.

Believe it or not, the bikini bridge was started as an internet hoax.  Riding on the coattails of the thigh gap, a 4chan user decided to start a new body trend and this is what they came up with.  They created memes and propaganda to promote this new body "ideal."  And guess what?  The experiment worked.

All it took for our female youth to distort their view of a beautiful or covet an unobtainable body was to see one promoted online.  It shows how great of an influencer the internet is on our younger generations.  If we bombarde our girls with these images and tell them it's beautiful (whether we actually believe it ourselves or not), they will strive for that "perfection."  

My question is why do the images of curvier, more natural women not catch on?  Why does real not become a trend?  Why do we rebuke what is natural in favor for unnatural?  Our cultures define what is beautiful.  Is our culture so thin obsessed that any image of gaps on a woman's body is beautiful? How do we change that?  Why is it that something that was intended to be a joke has turned into an actual trend?  

What a long bridge we've crossed from our ancestors.

At the vanity, 1600-1650

#bikinibridge 

Beauty Starts in the Heart

As I continue to review some wise words written by those whose lives were exemplary in my eyes, I grow and learn more.

I have learned that when you start to think and do things differently it hurts.  To accept that you want to make a change in your life means to accept that you are willing to suffer.

It also means you will feel like a hypocrite.

Nearly every woman can identify with a lack of confidence for any myriad of reasons.  I have an exercise for you to try.

Get one of your best female friends, one that you trust with all your heart.  Have them sit across from you and stare you right in the eye and state, "You are beautiful.  Do you believe me?  Do you?"  Then bring the words to your mouth.  "Yes, I believe you.  I am beautiful."

For most women, it won't be words but tears that will come first.  Then when you get to the point where you can say the words, they will be alien and foreign.  Most of all, they won't be the truth, and you will feel like a liar.

Then put your shoulders back, lift your head, and smile.  It is scientifically proven that your self body language has a direct correlation to your confidence.  The disdain you feel from this exercise may be too much.

Hold on.

This is it.  This is the the suffering.  This is the change you are making.  With every birth is labor.  Put an effort in your looks, your posture, your smile.

You see, my dear blog readers, as I write this I feel like the largest of hypocrites.  I, like all humans, have my own hang-ups that hurt.  This is the path I am choosing to take.  I have made a choice to change now, and so I have committed myself to suffering.  I will take the difficult path for the bigger reward.

So I invite you to join me.  Let's spend our days focused on positive thoughts, beautiful smiles, and clean posture.  Let's build our confidence through our body...our very own enemy.  And when you're ready to give in, let's all hold each other accountable.  Let's always be able to look each other in the eye and say,

You're Beautiful.

I'm Beautiful.

Finding Self Worth

Hello my wonderful Blog readers!

I apologize for the hiatus...as you know, sometimes life gets too busy!

There have been a lot of ups and downs in my life as of recently.  What a beautiful roller coaster life can be.  But with every dip, the peaks teach a new lesson to prepare you for the next.

About once a year, I dig out a book of mine that was written by one of my college professors Dr. Willard Tate.  He passed away from cancer several years back, but he lived a long, full life.  He traveled as an inspirational speaker in his later years.  The thing about Dr. Tate was that he was a simple yet wise man.  This book that I read on an annual basis is called "Learning to Love."  I recently read this book again, which got me thinking as usual.

In my own life, I have witnessed others struggling with a sense of self worth.  For all of us, the world tells us that there are three standards by which we qualify as worthy: achievement, intelligence, and appearance.

Achievement

As a woman, I don't know about you, but I often feel as though we are expected to make great achievements, without achieving too much.  We are told that a man's fragile ego cannot accept a woman that he considers more successful than him.

Or there's the world of the gold diggers.  Or the false perception of one.  Women are not expected to want a man who can provide for a family, because that would base her love on his achievements, which may or may not be true.

If we struggle with our own personal achievements, we lower our own self-worth.  We don't find ourselves worthy for a man.  However, this affliction is probably more commonly felt by men.

Just can't win scenario unlocked: Level One.

Intelligence

Now let's be honest...this is the most hypocritical category for women.

When we are young, we are taught to be dumb is to be popular and cool.  I remember often holding my tongue or purposefully saying things with a valley girl voice to try to fit in.  Intelligence equals an easy target for bullies when we are young.  Then suddenly in our late twenties the world changes its mind.  Suddenly we're supposed to transition into amazing brilliant women.

I've been stuck in the in-between world of intelligence in my own life.  When I was in elementary school, I would consistently receive 95s and 100s on my tests.  So they tested me for advanced learning.  Guess what?  I failed.  By three points.  With the insistence of my teacher they put me in the advanced "Gifted and Talented" class.  That's right.  At a young age, we are separated into our sectors. Unfortunately, my "intelligence" lies in writing, reading, and creativity; and the advanced classes focused on math, logic, and science.  I bounced back and forth with my self worth regarding my intelligence: in regular class I was the smartest, but in advanced classes I was the dumbest.

Make up your mind, world!  Do you want us smart or dumb?

Just can't win scenario unlocked: Level Two.

Appearance

This is it, ladies.  This is the big one for us.

As women we are taught that we can forgo the intelligence and achievement as long as we have the appearance category in spades.  What a deal!!  Men require all three, but we can get away with one.  But what a devastating one thing that can be.

At what cost do we work to maintain that worthiness?  Especially if we feel as though we can't reach a respectable self-worth through our intelligence or achievement?  In fact, how often is it taught that a dumb but pretty girl is more desirable?  Or that a woman only needs to conquer a man as her sole achievement?

As Dr. Tate writes in his book, "...how do you suppose the story would have read if she had been Sleeping Ugly?...the whole point of the story was that she was beautiful.  Otherwise, the prince would have let her sleep forever."

And yet, the more attractive a woman, the more negative feedback she receives from fellow women.  An extremely attractive woman is not expected to be a highly intelligent scientist or business woman.  In fact, it is more difficult for an extremely attractive woman to be taken seriously in the business world.  Aren't they supposed to be simply a trophy?  Why should they try to accomplish more?  Leave that to the women who lack in appearance.

As one of my favorite songwriters, Ani DiFranco, sang, "God help you if you are an ugly girl.  Of course too pretty is also your doom.  Everyone harbors a secret hatred for the prettiest girl in the room."

Just can't win scenario unlocked: Level Three.

So where am I going with all of this?  As long as you spend your time working to achieve your self-worth based on the standards of the world or a certain society, you will never win.  You will always lose at some point in your life.

Your self-worth is greater than anything of this world.  You were created perfect in every way.  PERFECT.

"Your Self Worth is a gift."

Because you are created in God's image, you don't have to earn anything, you already have it.  Any other way of gaining worthiness is unreliable and always changing.  Through God's unconditional love and grace you have a worth that no one can ever take from you.  You can lose a job, have a learning disability, or be an amputee.  Despite all of that, you have a soul that is far more valuable and lives eternally.  Shouldn't you be more focused on your soul's worth since it will be around far longer?

Try this to help you adjust to this idea: write on a small notecard that you can put in your purse or pocket I am a child of God.  Read it all throughout the day.  When you feel unworthy or low.  Reach for that card.  Eventually your conscious mind will learn what your innate subconscious was created to know this whole time.

Fatten Your Horizons

I've promised for the longest time to write about our thin girls in my blog, and now's the time.

Before I move forward with this particular entry, I will declare that I will never use the word "skinny" unless I feel as though a woman is unhealthy and underweight.  For myself, and many thin girls, the word skinny has a negative connotation to it.  It's the word used to describe anorexics.  It alludes to someone who is not fit or taking care of themselves.  Perhaps I'm mistaken, but that's how I feel about it and this is my blog...so be it.

Moving along....

I was once shopping at my favorite haunt, Ann Taylor Outlet, and the girl who worked there had helped me a couple of times in the past.  She was extremely petite.  Most likely around 5'2" and I would have been shocked if she topped 100lbs.  As she folded my clothes, she had a sort of sad look on her face.  In an effort to lift her spirits I relied on small talk,

"You were right, I decided to go with the medium on that shirt.  It fits better."

This was my effort at giving her credit for knowing her customer.  I figured by saying you're good at your job, it would make her a little happier.  Instead, she looked at me, and said,

"I wish I could fit in the Medium.  Nothing fits me.  I always have to have everything altered."

Then it hit me.  She was so petite she couldn't shop in women's departments.  Her size dictated that she was not a grown woman but a child.

More often than not, there's no empathy for the thin ladies.

"Don't complain!  You're skinny."

"Please...if I looked like you I'd walk around naked all day."

"Just shut up.  I don't even want to hear about your skinny problems."

Our culture has trained us that being a size two or smaller is perfection, and therefore if that is what you are then you surely cannot be unhappy with yourself.  But take a moment to consider...

What do men, media, and other women happily and incessantly talk about?  Breasts.  If you are a naturally thin woman, chances are that you are not large chested.  It only makes sense.  That's not who you are meant to be.  And yet, what is more feminine than breasts?  Curves?  Another thing that thin women sometimes lack.  Yes, so they can fit in a size zero, that size doesn't guarantee their self-esteem or happiness.

How often do we associate happiness with dress size?  I'm here to tell you, the two do not correlate.  I will say that fitness and happiness go hand in hand, but some women are not meant to have D cup breasts and wear wiggle dresses.  But they can rock a sheath dress like no one's business.

So for my thin ladies out there...I hear you.  I don't want you to shut up.  I want to hear about your body struggles just like someone who struggles with being overweight.  Being smaller than a size two doesn't mean you don't have a voice.  It doesn't mean that you don't hurt or feel bad about yourself some days or most days.  I will tell you the same that I tell all other ladies: you are beautiful.  No matter what our world dictates to you that you "lack" or "need," you just be you and be proud of the majesty that is your body.