My Mother's Daughter

I am my mother's daughter. This thought brings a smile to my face. I can hear her when I'm laughing. I can hear her voice sometimes when I'm talking. I don't think we looked that much alike, but we did have similar voices, hand gestures, body language, and senses of humor. And since she's gone I catch myself in the mirror sometimes and see things I didn't notice before that look like her. And it makes me smile.

Recently at the gym I walked into a room and someone spotted me and said "There she is... Susie Sunshine." And she wasn't even being sarcastic. I know because I asked. :) I often feel like I don't come across as a happy or outgoing person... that I seem quiet or standoffish. But I think perhaps that is just a leftover self image from me a long time ago... it is how I appeared to people... and it was born out of shyness... but it was perceived as stuck up or aloof. One of the reasons the comment stood out to me is the simple fact that my mother was a Susie Sunshine... but not a sugary sweet type. She simply brightened every room she walked into just by being herself. Example: She walked into the gas station near her house and 2 cops were in there talking to the young woman working there. Everyone seemed so serious. Well, mom, the tiny little old lady, spots them and starts singing "Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do?" And everyone started laughing. Later the woman who worked there told someone "Yeah, those cops were being so stern until Miss Cathy walked in... then they were great." That was mom.

Mom always entered a room like she owned it. She was 4'9" or something close to it... but she carried herself like a giant. And I've always aspired to that. Perhaps it's why I am surprised when people point out that at 5'2" I am quite small. I don't feel short. I have a friend who will hug me and can set his chin on top of my head... and I realize "Oh, I am kind of short." But if I'm just talking to him I feel like we're the same height. And friends of mine who are the same height as me? I feel like I tower over them. Mom didn't feel short either. I remember her saying she hadn't even noticed that she was smaller than most people until someone pointed it out to her in her senior year of high school. It's another way I find myself being like mom.

I tend to say that I don't care what anyone thinks of me. And for the most part that is true. If you are my friend I know you think well of me. If you aren't my friend why would I care about your opinion? The exception to this rule was mom. I cared what she thought of me. I always wanted her to be proud of me. I think she was. I hope she was.

A few weeks before mom passed away I had given blood at a Red Cross event. I found myself carrying on a conversation with about 5 different people in the room while I sat in the chair. And while I was in the middle of joking around it occurred to me just how much like my mother I was acting. This wasn't my normal way of behaving. But it was most definitely hers. I'd witnessed it my entire life. And here I was... effortlessly being like mom in the best possible way. I had noticed a shift in me this year... in how I act and how people react to me. But this was such a cool thing to realize I was acting like mom without trying. I had written mom and explained the whole thing. And she seemed so happy. I just now looked up her email to see exactly what she had said about it... and she told me it was awesome that I was coming into my own. And then she talked about me wanting to write and gave me some of her thoughts... and at the end of the email simply said "u are awesome." And then she told me "isn't life grand and such a learning experience?" Yes, mom... it is. :)

Life is for the living... I hear ya, Mom. :)

It's really funny, this whole death thing. It's been 4 weeks today since the beginning of the ordeal with mom, and 16 days since she has passed. And life really, truly does keep right on going. It's a lesson mom repeated to me many times when I think back. And I seemed to repeat to myself over the years as if I was trying to make sure I was ready.

My Aunt Evelyn passed away at 36 years of age... when I was a small child. She was my mom's best friend. I can remember mom telling me later that she remembered riding in the car to her funeral and seeing all these other cars passing by her and feeling like "Why isn't everyone stopping? Don't they know what has happened?" But the rest of the world didn't stop even if she felt like it should. And I understand what she felt, but I get it... I get it because of what she taught me... Life will keep on going. And it is important not to let it pass me by.

Part of me feels stronger now than before... like I have more of a fire in me to figure out what I want to do... and do it. I hope the feeling doesn't pass. The place where the sadness creeps in is that whatever I do from this point forward I won't get to show my mom. I used to ask her opinion on things, some big and some small. The day she went to the hospital we had emailed back and forth about what I was going to wear to my high school reunion. She loved the dress, and I got a wow on the necklace. But should I wear shoes or boots... tights or bare legs? Some opinions I took and some I ignored (I wore tights... she wouldn't have liked them. LOL). But it was always fun to discuss. On my birthday I sent her a picture of my new sneakers... just because they were pretty, and I was excited. And it makes me so sad to know that any silly things I have to share or any minor or major accomplishments from this point on, and I hope to have many, I won't be able to share or get her opinion on. I've always said that I really don't care what anyone thinks of me... with one exception. And that exception was my mom. I did like to make her proud. :) 

So life is moving on... I find myself laughing sometimes and thinking just for a second "How can you possibly laugh or have fun or be happy? Your mom is gone." But that's what life is. Life is finding joy and laughter and tears and sorrow... hopefully more of the joy and laughter... and letting those things coexist while you keep moving forward.

Sometimes I close my eyes and try to clear my mind and I listen really closely for my mom's voice... what would she tell me or say about all this? And you know what? I've heard it a couple times. It's distant and quiet... and the cynic in me says it's just me thinking what I'd like her to say. I don't know if it's her or me, and I really don't care. All I know is the voice says "Tracy, life is for the living... and you gotta get on with the business of living."

And yes, I've cried through this whole blog too... but it's good, cathartic tears... so it's okay. Tears are part of life too. :)

Getting on with the business of living... for my mom. :)

My mother, my favorite person in the entire world, has passed away. I find myself at times not knowing how to take the next breath... knowing that I have to live the rest of my life without her. My mom didn't lose her mother until she was in her 60s and grandma was in her 80s. I'm not even 40. I feel so cheated. But mom could have lived to 100 and I would have said she was too young and it was too soon.

I am at home tonight... my home. I will be sleeping in my own bed for the first time in 24 nights. And as suspected being alone is letting in a huge amount of emotions. It isn't as bad as the first night after mom passed when I laid on the floor of her closet on top of some of her clothes and sobbed so hard I thought I might break in two. In a way I guess I did break. I'm more heartbroken than I've ever been.

Grief truly does come in waves. Some waves are crushing. But the waves do pass. And I laugh again. Mom lived to laugh, and I think she laughed to live. Everyone I've talked to remembers her smiling and laughing. So it's important to me that I need to live my life that way. Of course, I'm writing this while sobbing. But whatcha gonna do?

Mom always said that the best way to honor those you love who pass is to live a good life. She also said when bad things happen you have a good cry and then get on with the business of living. I agree with her, though I have no doubt I will have plenty of good cries on this subject... not just one. :) She would understand I'm sure.

So in honor of getting on with living... here is a little info on me during the past few weeks that fits into my normal blog content. I found during mom's hospitalization the things that truly mattered in my life floated to the top and all the things that are truly meaningless (even though they sometimes seem important in daily life) sank to the bottom. And keeping my health in check did remain important thankfully. I did make an effort to not just pack on pounds during the stress of it all. I worried if I let myself get out of control it would be too hard to get back on track. Of course, I had times that I said out loud "Yeah, time for some stress eating." And I threw the "no sugar drinks" directly out the window and drank whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. I couldn't work out (though I did do the occasional push ups and sit ups in the hospital waiting room) and I needed some outlet... so sugar drinks, thank you very much!

Last week I got back to the gym finally. And it kicked my ass. Two weeks of no exercising makes a big difference. But getting moving again and the support from my gym buddies was very helpful. Exercise really has no downsides people... I do believe it is one of the keys to feeling good in life.

I hope to write again soon... back on track... get on with living. And mom seemed to like my blog. :)

Birthday Ramblings :)

Today is my birthday. And I got all I could have asked for. I don't need presents. The real presents in life are the experiences we have. And all I could ask for was to spend time with good friends and family, have a little good food, and just do things that I enjoy. Oh, and my annual homemade birthday card from Mom and Dad. Those are always awesome. Besides I can buy presents for myself. I did, in fact, buy myself some new gym shoes for my birthday. They make me feel like I should be a dancer in a Wham! video! After I bought them I looked forward to going to the gym tonight just to break them in. And the gym felt like a birthday party complete with friends, laughter, and music.

I feel really good today. I don't feel old. I feel vibrant. I feel like me. And that's an excellent feeling. I hope it lasts. I hope it isn't just an upswing of hormones. :)

There are plenty of things in my life that suck right now. Things that need to improve. Situations I wish were different, but I haven't figured out a path through them or around them yet. But there are so many things to be thankful for in my life. When I look at where I am now compared to my 38th birthday, and especially my 37th, I feel almost unrecognizable. To most of the outside world I just look a bit thinner. But the differences go so much deeper than that.

Years ago I trained for a marathon. I remember being in the middle of a long training run, maybe 16 miles long, and having this amazing feeling of "this is who I am... this is who I want to be." It was an awesome feeling. It was such a strong feeling I can still remember the scenery around me when I thought it like it was yesterday. But I was only 26 years old... honestly still a kid... with no idea of the trials and tribulations of the years ahead. And here I am 13 years later... I am sure with no ideas of the trials and tribulations still ahead... having a similar feeling. Sometimes it is at the gym or the lake and sometimes it is when I am just sitting quietly by myself. "This is who I am... this is who I want to be."  And this time around the feeling is so awesome it can almost bring me to tears.

I can't speak for everyone, but the truth is for me I think I have an innate understanding of who I am. But somewhere in my life I lost track... I forgot or pushed that knowledge aside. When you aren't living the life you want it is easier to pretend that you don't want that life... that you're okay with what's in front of you... even if it is painful or miserable. Of course, this only keeps you stuck in the place you don't want to be. I know from experience.

Now if only I can find a way to get those couple of areas that don't gel with "me" to change life would get even better. I have no doubt there is a way... I just have to keep looking and not just blindly accept what's in front of me.

It's kind of hard to feel very poetic or deep when you're in a good mood. At least it seems that way. I hope my ramblings this evening appeared to have some sort of point. It felt good to write, and I guess that's enough.

Writing - something other than a blog, that is. :)

Does everyone daydream about writing a novel? Or is it something just I do? I've thought about being some sort of writer as far back as I can remember. In second grade I wrote some poetry for class, and my teacher made a big deal about it to my mom. I'm sure it wasn't anything earth shattering... probably just typical rhyming from a 7-year-old. But I remember being so proud of it and trying to write more on my own. When we would go to the library I would check out poetry books along with my Mozart cassettes. Geeky kid? Me? No! I would read my poetry books and dabble, but eventually the desire faded. But I still had it in my head that maybe I could be a writer.

A couple years out of college I took a creative writing class at the community college. I still have my writing. I liked it. It wasn't substantial enough to say I'd started a novel, or even a short story, but there was one short thing I wrote that always stuck with me... that I thought was good. And in my mind I often say "yeah, someday I'll write a book." But there is a funny thing about "someday." It doesn't get here. "Today is all we have" sounds cliche, but it's true. When is it ever anything but now? Yesterday is a memory, and tomorrow is always out of reach. So if someday isn't going to arrive... when will I write my book?

It was pointed out to me recently what a passive person I am. Now being called passive is not an insult. It's just an adjective that accurately describes me. I am passive. Very often in life I just sit around and wait for things to happen to me. And if you wait, good things will happen and so will bad. But honestly very few "great" things will happen... not without some action. One definition describes being passive as "being the object of action rather than causing action (opposed to active)." The problem is I can feel it in me that I am getting tired of being the object of action. The desire to be the cause of action in my life is growing. Life really is a journey and not a destination. And so often I have felt like I'm just watching the scenery pass by.

And this brings me to my plan of action for next month. November is National Novel Writing Month. The purpose is to write without worry... I am not expected to write a publishable, or even good, novel. I am just expected to write 50,000 words in 30 days. There is no prize other than knowing I've accomplished writing a novel. And maybe in the 50,000 words there will be the beginning of something good. No doubt there will be a ton of throwaway material. But it's a beginning. It's action.

I do not expect to suddenly become non-passive in all areas of life. That would be exhausting. I do know I can see the exceptionally positive changes in myself that have come from getting off my lazy ass and changing my physical lifestyle. I can only hope that taking action elsewhere will bring about the same sort of satisfaction.

I acted like one of "those people" tonight.

Tonight was my first day back at the gym in 5 days. And I hadn't weighed myself during that time. I weigh every day at the gym... sometimes twice, once when I get there and once when I leave. Compulsive? Maybe. Probably. Okay, yeah it's compulsive. :) But it works for me. I don't like to worry for a week about whether or not I gained or lost. Weighing each time I am there keeps me on track.

So today I walk to the scale in the weight room. I always use the same scale so I know it's accurate. There is one in the ladies locker room, but I don't care for it. The one in the weight room is next to the receptionist desk at the in-house chiropractor. So I walk over and out of the corner of my eye I notice the two ladies behind the desk watching me. I start to adjust the weights on the scale and the one lady says to me "You're one of only 3 women we've seen use this scale! And the other 2 made a point to look around to make sure no one was watching them." I laugh and say I hadn't ever thought about anyone watching me. Right about this time I'm noticing that my weight has crept up a couple pounds. And just as a little touch of panic is settling in the lady behind the desk says "Yeah, well, you're skinny" implying why would I care if anyone saw me weigh. I kind of blinked at her and said "I'm not skinny." It just popped out! And as the words escape my mouth I notice the incredulous look on her face. And I realize what I've done. I'm acting like one of those people.

"Those people" were the skinny girls I remember from junior high... and I still encounter them today... who say "Oh, I'm so fat... blah, blah, blah" and all the girls around them chime in with the "No, you're not!!!!" I remember sitting in the lunchroom in 8th grade listening to a skinny girl do this. And there I sat in all my fatness thinking that there is no way in hell I can say "Oh, I'm so fat" out loud. The silence would be deafening. You'd hear crickets chirping or pins dropping. Because a fat person saying they're fat just isn't going to illicit the same denials. And I always assumed the skinny chicks say this because they want the reassurance that they're thin and pretty. But here I am... apparently a skinny chick to some... saying the same thing.

So tonight the words "I'm not skinny" have escaped my lips, and I'm wishing I could pull them back in. I don't feel skinny, especially with this damn scale looking at me. But the woman talking to me is bigger than me. She would probably very much like to be my size. And I realize I must sound like an idiot to her at this point. And she looks at me and says "Yeah, right... what size do you wear?" And I literally hung my head a little and said sort of quietly and with a bit of embarrassment "Size 8." And she says "Yeah... skinny." We talk for a few minutes I try to get a little street cred with the "Oh, but I've lost X amount of weight" so she doesn't think I'm just born skinny. At the end of the conversation she congratulates me on the weight loss and I thanked her sincerely.

I realize this woman probably didn't think twice about this conversation. But it stuck with me. I wonder if I'm wrong or if she's wrong... or if it's somewhere in between. Either way I don't want to play this game... I don't want to call myself fat when I'm actually thin. It's like the reverse side of telling myself I'm just a little chubby when I was actually fat. If someone says I'm skinny... and if I am actually a thin woman... why is it so hard to just nod and say yeah I am? I mean... I am working my ass off for it. I'm earning it. And yet apparently I can't quite grasp what I look like now any more than I could grasp how fat I'd gotten. It's like I can't own who I am. I'm not quite sure I can see it yet. Not to mention... this whole "I'm so fat" thing seems to be kind of a bonding thing between women. Not sure "Yeah, I'm thin" would endear me to many. Heck, I wonder if even writing this sounds conceited. If someone will think "Stupid skinny bitch... talking about how skinny she is." I don't know. I just need to try not to play the game. I said before... it is important to look at ourselves honestly. We need to own up to the good as well as the bad I guess.

So while I think skinny is an exaggeration of my size... I need to not deny it like it's so ridiculous. Easier said than done. Stupid fat kid syndrome. :)

Sniffling, sneezing ramblings of a yoga gym princess :)

I am so not perfect at this whole fitness thing. :) Okay, I'm pretty good with the exercise. I tend to be a really hands on type gal, and I like physical things. And now that I've found things I like to do for exercise, combined with the gym having become a much more social place, getting myself to the gym takes far less discipline. But the food... oh, the food. Constant healthy eating has not become second nature yet at all. I'll do well for several days or weeks... then naturally give myself a little room to wiggle and enjoy some reckless eating. Sadly, sometimes it is a little harder to get back on track than other times. Stress, illness, weekends, hormones... you name it... life can make that candy bar or soda so ridiculously irresistible.

Today I am sick. Nothing major: headache, head cold, sneezy, sleepy, grumpy. Heck, let's throw dopey, happy and doc in for good measure. But I am sick enough that I decided against a trip to the gym. First of all I didn't want to make any of the kindly gym-goers sick with my germs. Secondly, I did the RPM (cycling) class once with a headache. And let's just say... um, no. Not a mistake I want to repeat. And thirdly, the idea of doing the downward dog with a running nose just seems awful... or sneezing while balancing... not a good plan. Normally taking a day off from the gym isn't bad. But I just took 2 days off for recovery time. So the third tacked on here starts to mess with me mentally a little bit. Logic versus emotions. Logically I know damn well that 3 days, or 4 if I'm not better tomorrow, will not undo all the work I've done. But emotionally it gets me out of my routine of being at the gym... and that worries me that I won't get back in the routine.

Earlier in the day when I made the decision to skip the gym I thought, "No worries. Just watch your eating today since you can't hit the gym." And so I watched as I ate a Big Mac for dinner. Yes, with french fries. Sickness, and especially tiredness, can definitely break down your defenses. Times I've been sleep-deprived I have very little ability to police my eating. Driving to work during my time of insomnia it was really common for my brain to say in all seriousness "Yeah... a fried chicken biscuit and huge glass of sweet tea... THAT'S an awesome idea!" And my little sleep-deprived brain would drive my fat ass to BoJangle's without thinking. It's good to recognize why we choose bad food. It reminds me to get plenty of sleep. Sleep deprivation is not my only trigger, but it's a big one. I'm not sick often so maybe on days when I am I should cut myself a little slack. But I know I haven't been doing as well with my food intake as I'd like lately so it's hard to just let it go.

I have had several "plateaus" while losing weight. But being completely honest about it they have been self-inflicted plateaus. I start eating more or exercising less. When I finally get in gear the weight comes off again. It seems like it would be easy to stay in gear... you'd think anyway. :)

I would love to not worry about my weight. Will that ever happen? I realize the answer to that is "probably not." That stupid fat kid in my head is pretty determined to stay put. Part of the reason I advertise my working out and eating on Facebook, and now here in this blog, is to keep me moving forward. By letting my little part of the world know what I'm doing... well, I feel like it helps to keep me from failing or backtracking. Or it has so far. It also gives me positive feedback... and don't we all need that on occasion when things get tough? Anyway, I know my Big Mac won't really hurt anything as long as it doesn't start a habit of Big Mac eating. And I know I'll get back to the gym. Staying focused on the road ahead is the important part... not stopping at a bump in the road and turning around.

Anyway, I felt like advertising my setbacks today... not just my successes. To quote a song a friend posted on FB today "Ain't nothing gonna break my stride, nobody gonna slow me down oh no I got to keep on moving". Yeah, that's been stuck in my head all day. Maybe if you read it you can sing along too! :)

Forever 23

I'm going to be 39 years old about 2 weeks. Then I begin the last year of my 30s. I have no idea why those ages ending in zero seem to hold such weight for people. Personally I always hated the years ending in 7... 27, 37, etc. They seem to just sound older... maybe because of the extra syllable? Or maybe because you officially cross the line into "late 20s" or "late 30s." Of course 17 felt older, but back then for some insane reason we wanted to be older. Seriously? When people say youth is wasted on the young... they aren't kidding.

I have always felt simultaneously like a kid and an old lady. I feel like I have always had a certain wisdom (the old lady) and yet often the stupidity not to listen to it (the kid). :) For the most part, though, on the inside I always feel 23 years old. I used to just say that kind of as a reflex... how old do I feel? 23. I didn't know why. But I think I finally figured it out. It's the age I was when I finally went out on my own... not only out of mom and dad's house, but out of school (where I had freedom, but mom and dad still paid). :) So it was the age I kind of became "me" if that makes any sense. I think I am more mature now, but inside... I'm the same Tracy I was at 23. And the funny thing is I suspect if I live to be 90... I'll be the same. I'll still be 23 inside. I try to remember that when I see older people... they may still feel 23 too. :)

I remember my mom telling me that at age 40 or so her neck just kind of "showed up." Like... she never really even noticed her neck before... and all of a sudden it was like "Hello!" And it looked older. I've honestly been watching my neck for 20 years because of that statement! Like... oh, no is my neck showing up? LOL. And yes... my neck has at least started to "show up." Then she once told me that at a certain age when you start to look old you become invisible. Like you'll be out in public and it's like people just see through you. And I'm looking at my age and, unlike being in my 20s when you think you'll stay the way you are forever, I understand more fully there is a shelf life... to my looks, my health, and eventually my life.

On some level I think I am working my ass off at the gym like I am because, armed with the knowledge of a middle aged woman, I want to extend that shelf life. I am not ready to be invisible yet... I spent most of my youth feeling invisible. I finally don't, and I want to stick around for a while. :) I just hope my soon to be 39 year old body keeps up. I can definitely tell when I'm pushing myself that it isn't 23 anymore. Hello elbow tendons, foot tendons, knees and back! Where the hell did you come from?  I don't like you... please go away. :)

This year my birthday falls midweek on a day that is a cycling class/BodyFlow yoga class double feature day! And yes I plan on going to the gym on my birthday. I should find a tiara to wear or something... just to be silly. :) Hey... it's a birthday. Seriously... rarely do people plan surprise parties or plan your birthdays for you. You gotta make the plans yourself if you want it to be fun. 

I do plan on enjoying my birthday... even if I do nothing. People joke that they are turning 29 again. Not me... I'm gonna be 39... I've earned these years! :) Some of these years I'd even say I conquered! And I am proud of them.

Watch your language! :)

 "All that we are is the result of what we have thought. The mind is everything. What we think we become." ~Buddha


Language is powerful. The language we speak and even the language we think. It is important to be mindful of the language we use about ourselves. While I do not in any way advocate talking bad about ourselves... we must also be honest. We need to not hide from ourselves. 

What do these words have in common? Chubby, pudgy, curvy, womanly, buxom, BBW (big beautiful woman), fluffy. They can all be substitutes for the word fat. The dreaded word: FAT. I understand the desire to not be called fat. Up until about a year ago if something made me think for a second I was fat I would think "No, I'm just a little chubby." When I, at 5'2", had to buy size 14 jeans I thought "Oh, I'm just curvy." Yeah... right. All I was doing was fooling myself. In a way I was trying to be kind. I didn't want the truth. The truth was scary and required action. But the truth delivered without malice... the truth just as the truth isn't painful. It opens the door for change. And change can seem painful.

I used to look at myself and figure next to someone who was morbidly obese I wasn't bad. But what did that nameless obese person I made up have to do with me? Nothing. I had to stop comparing myself... I had to look just at myself. And the truth was I was unhealthy. I was, in fact, the dreaded word FAT. And the day I set aside all the cute words for what I was... I wasn't curvy or pudgy or womanly... I was fat. That was the day I was able to start changing. I no longer allowed myself the luxury of sugarcoating what my body had become. I was overweight. I had no energy. I took a nap every day after work because I wasn't sleeping well. And in 20 years I would only be worse. In 20 years I would really regret not getting myself together now. The list of diseases caused just by being overweight... the diseases that are completely preventable... that list is long. And any disease that may hit me that isn't preventable... well, the least I can do is be in fighting shape!

I understand that no one can start changing their life until they are ready. This goes for weight loss, smoking, drinking... any behaviors we know are bad, but are afraid to put down. But I believe that looking at yourself with honest eyes is necessary to get to the point of being ready. Don't judge yourself. Don't hate yourself. But don't sugarcoat things that are unpleasant. Face them, and decide if you want to change them.

The ideas in this article are really simple ideas that are very true! I watch my diet, but I am not on a diet. I hope it helps me stay lean! Take a look: The 7 Laws of Leanness

I am sometimes surprised I don't have an eating disorder

I was at the gym tonight. I was doing a weight lifting class and watching my form in the mirror. At one point doing either back exercises or shoulders I noticed I could see bones in my chest. And I got really, really happy! Then I start wondering "Should I really be happy that my bones are showing?"

Let me give a little background. When I was in high school I was really skinny. I know from pictures I see. But of course, I thought I needed to lose 5 more pounds at all times... the aforementioned fat kid syndrome was really kicking! And I remember once after losing weight my dad came up behind me in the kitchen and squeezed my shoulders and mentioned how he could feel my shoulder bones. This was a good thing since I'd recently lost weight. And ever since then I have loved for my shoulder bones and collar bones to stick out. I had a friend in college say to me that from the waist up she thought I might be bordering on anorexic, but from the waist down she knew I wasn't. I took this as a very high compliment. I didn't mind having an ass (this was the era of "Baby Got Back" after all). But even more than that I loved those stupid collar bones.

My collar bones and shoulder bones have been hidden under fat for a lot of years now. My shoulders looked rounded instead of the squared shoulders I used to love. Since I started losing weight I have seen them reappear. And now I'm starting to see ribs in my chest on occasion! (Yes, I was smiling when I typed that last sentence). Maybe I shouldn't celebrate this. That's what I question. Is it really an attractive thing to strive for? Will I go too far? I didn't see that I had gotten as fat as I did. Will I not see it if I get too skinny? Most of my friends have looked at my "fat" picture and said they didn't see me like that at all. That's why they never said anything. Will they not notice if I get too skinny? Who will warn me?

I have read an anorexic's blog before. And she says over and over that she was just trying to be healthy. And I recognize the language she uses.

I have often been grateful... from my teenage years on... that I wasn't anorexic or bulimic. I always felt like I was an ideal candidate... always thinking so much about my weight. Maybe it's why I'm on guard now.

For now I'm going to enjoy my wonderful collar bones, shoulder bones, and even the bones in my chest, but I will try to pay attention. I suppose if my ass starts to disappear then I'll have something to worry about. :)

"6 Scary Side Effects of Sugar"

Here's a good article. 6 Scary Side Effects of Sugar Just don't go substituting sugar with artificial sweeteners. Those are just awful. I'll find some articles to post on that another time. :)

I suffer from "Fat Kid Syndrome"

A friend of mine was at Krispy Kreme with me last night. He had gone to the bathroom and while waiting I was standing at the window watching the doughnuts being fried. I turned around as my friend was walking towards me and he had this bemused look on his face and started chuckling. As we headed out the door he said something to the effect of "You know sometimes I can still see glimpses of the little fat kid in you."

Yes... I was a fat kid. No, not baby fat. FAT. And I was fat at a time that 70% of kids weren't fat. I didn't wear tight clothes or call myself curvy. I thought I was ugly and invisible... and I tried to hide. And when you feel that as a child it becomes part of you. You suffer from "Fat Kid Syndrome" as I call it. And you can manage it like a chronic illness, but honestly it doesn't go away and it rears its ugly head from time to time.

Logic and emotions rarely agree. I know logically I am not ugly or invisible. But when someone notices me or finds me sexy or attractive, somewhere inside me there is the reaction "Why?" I "know" why... but there is a small part of me that doesn't know how to "feel" why.

So it's a work in progress... just like the rest of life.