Soapbox: I Will Cut You, or how I am learning to love who I am

I’m done dieting and obsessing over working out.  Yep, I said it.  I know this will come as a shock to some people, but I usually do not get that euphoric high from working out.  I do not bound delightfully to the gym, excited for todays adventures in spinning or running.  If I am running, the Zombie Apocalypse is upon us and you should run in the same direction.

In addition, I enjoy eating the following on a regular basis: Bread; Cheese (Saga Blue Brie is my favorite); Butter; Ice Cream; Milk.  Normally regular Coke Classic would e on my list but I’ve been off the Coca-Cola Classic Crack for a week..and it is PAINFUL! #thestruggle

However, the point is that I don’t want a diet filled with only one type of food, that restricts other types that I really adore, or that fills me full of tastebud altering chemicals that mimic what I really want to be eating (Fat-Free Cheese is the devil….just saying).  In fact, it may be surprising to find out that I typically don’t even eat enough already.  What?!  A woman who is larger than a size 4 does not eat 500 thousand calories a day to get that way?!  Yes, folks!  It’s true.  I have to work to eat 1,660 calories in a day, which is what myfitnesspal says I should be eating.  Sometimes I make it, sometimes I exceed it, but most days I’m well under.

giphy (1)

Normally I am a worry wart about my weight.  I worry when I eat, I worry when I don’t work out.  I worry when a pair of pants fits a little too snugly.  I hate shopping some days.  However, what really bothers me is that I am NOT worried because of my health.  I am worried because I have learned to covet every scrap of real and faux approval I get due to my size.  Very murmur that I am thin, small, fit, pretty, so on.  Each and every morsel of approval I pocket and keep for a rainy day.  Since honestly, I’m a former fat kid — and its nice for someone to say more than “You have a pretty face.”

But kids, its HARD keeping up appearances.  When I go into Fall exams, I always gain weight — and get sick.  That time is the worse — so I’m fat AND sick. What?  I’m exhausted, I’m stressed, I’m worried about grades, and then someone comes up and mentions that I’ve put on a little weight.  Ya’ll better be glad that I want to run for office someday and can’t cut you….

So this year, as I was nursing my cold and ONE POUND WEIGHT GAIN (yep, I gained a pound and was flipping my shit about ONE pound).  I decided that for my sanity and that of my marriage I can’t do this.  I can’t keep flipping out about my weight.  I can’t keep flipping out about being on a diet, about not working out enough (read: showing up to the gym and checking in so I get pats on the back).

Since, in all honesty, what that really boils down to is that I DON’T THINK I AM ENOUGH JUST AS I AM.  Yep, read that again.  I DON’T THINK I AM ENOUGH JUST AS I AM.

I have been trained to believe that the number on the scale and in my pants are worth more than the brains in my head and the love of my husband.  I have been trained to believe that if I gain a pound I should fall onto the alter of the gym and sweat it out.  I have been trained to think that going from a size 26 to a size 12 isn’t good enough (Can we talk about when size 12 became plus sized? Can we?).

I’ve been trained to think that nothing taste as good as thin feels.  Well honey, I can tell you a few things that taste better than obsessively worrying about weight:

  • my Uncle Donnie’s pancakes
  • my husbands red beans and rice
  • Busboys and Poets Shrimp and Grits
  • Painkillers from Pussers while sitting with your husband in BVI wearing a stellar two piece from GabbiFresh (I’ll write more on this later since I own both the one in the middle (Purple Galaxy) and the Neon Pink — but if she does another round this summer my Misses Size 12 equals a GabbiFresh Size 10 (I really could do an 8 on top but they don’t go that low — 10 is the skinny bitch size –see below)
this is the property of the owner of  Don't take my photo, because I am a lawyer.

this is the property of the owner of Don’t take my photo, because I am a lawyer.

Gabbi Fresh 2013 Swimsuits For All Line











There is an article that I read where someone else was happier heavier.  I too was happier heavier.  And while that does not mean that I am going to gain my weight back, what I did decided is that I should be happy.  The author of the piece stated: “Isn’t my quality of life worth more than my pants size?”   And I’m beginning to agree with her.  I was happier heavier because I just got to be me.  I didn’t have to keep up this appearance that has gained me faux friends and mild opportunities; I just had to be the person I am and to hell with everyone who is critical.   I was happy AND I was healthier (yep, there was no B12/Vit D deficiency, my knees didn’t hurt after a work out… yes I did work out at 350+ pounds).


Again, I am not yelling from the rooftops to go eat a bag of frosted doughnuts and wash it down with a 2L of regular soda.  But BE HAPPY.   I am saying that if you don’t love/like/appreciate yourself as you are, your weight loss journey will be difficult, angering, and ultimately saddening.  Since one day you will realize that the folks who loved you fat, still love you.  And the folks who love you skinny — well some of them will love you fat, but many of them won’t.  But if you don’t love yourself — if you don’t find your own worth without looking at what store you get to shop in or what size you have to pick up, then your weight loss will be like bad cosmetic surgery.  It will look good for a while, and then it will start to sag and droop.  And all you’ll be left with is hunger, lots of spandex, and lots of tubs of protein powder to show for your obsession — but potentially no increase of happiness, self worth, or self-love.

I am still proud of my Lap-Band weigh loss journey (I’ve written about it a while back, but check HERE and HERE for the most critical ones); but I’m ready to see who I am when I’m obsessing over my research and not my rear end.  When I’m focused on my job, and not my gym time log.  When I look at my husband’s love, not at my wardrobe.

So this year I am going to try to drink more water, eat more real whole -home cooked foods, work out when I can but doing what I love, be the nerdy smart girl who happens to rock out your fitness class when she can around her busy reading and crying schedule (life of a PhD), and to wear more two piece bathing suits instead of hiding in the size 12 shadows (cause I looked damn good on our cruise if I do say so myself — the pink is my hubs favorite). Since ultimately, the goal is to be happy and healthy.  So what do you pledge to do this year?  How do you want to achieve your goals in a more healthy and holistic way?

❤ — Ash


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