Originally posted 2016-10-29 08:34:36.
Originally posted 2016-10-29 08:34:36.
Let’s just get this off the table.
I’ve gained weight. Numerically, about 20 lbs.
Some of you are judging. Some of you are letting outs gasps and saying, “Bless her heart.” . Some of you are texting your girlfriend to say, ” I told you that PCOS chick gained weight! Ha!”.
Whatever you’re thinking, well-STOP. First, because I want you to know I am completely accepting and comfortable with this fact. I don’t need your sympathy. I don’t need your comments. I don’t need your judgement. Because I am just fine.
And oh yea, because it’s NONE OF YOUR F*#king business.
My hesitation in writing this came from the fact that I am a health coach, and because of our messed up society that is stuffed full of diet culture, where worth dictated by numbers on tags and scales, I know many of you would find me hypocritical.
How dare she coach women about health when she clearly is not in control of hers?
Well I dare to because I think health is more than what the industry driven by shame and fueled by fear of not being what is currently considered ideal. I find nothing healthy about spending all my energy hating myself and obsessing over food.
Health to me is improving your quality of life. But what happens when your pursuit of physical health is destroying your mental health? What if the journey leads you down a road of obsession over food and using fitness and nutrition as a punishment and reward system?
In a season when every fitspo, home health coach will be filling your social media with their programs to “fix” you, I want you to remember one thing- you shouldn’t be shamed into health. You’re not broken. The health industry is, preying on our insecurities. Motivation driven by hating yourself doesn’t get you very far.
I gained weight. I don’t need to justify it. I just stopped equating my worthiness with my physical appearance. I didn’t “let myself go”. The only thing that I let go of is my fear of judgement about how my body makes others feel.
But regardless, I don’t owe anyone an explanation about my body. I could list the numerous life occurrences that some may accept as worthy of justification for weight gain. I could apologize about how I did XYZ to get here, and quickly follow up with how I am going to resolve it. I could explain to you that at my thinnest I still felt unhealthy and trapped in the diet cycle. I could make sure you understand why I’m still acceptable where I am, even though society might say differently. But I won’t.
Because my weight is not something that needs to be resolved. I’m heavier. And I am happier. To me, this is healthier.
I’ve found acceptance in the fact that health is individual. It is not one size fits all. It is a complex balance between mind and body, and the connection between the two is crucial to understand.
And for those who view me differently for it, I bid you ado. You are the exact unhealthy weight I need to lose.
I have gained. I have gained strength to break up my unhealthy relationship with connecting guilt and reward to food. I have gained the understanding that my confidence can come from something other than my body. I have gained the knowledge to see how closely related your mental health is to your physical health, and both need to be nurtured. I have gained the understanding that loving the hell out of myself doesn’t come with size restrictions.
And I have gained the strength to tell anyone who has something to say about my body that I don’t owe you an explanation. And I certainly don’t need your validation.
Originally posted 2016-12-10 23:44:21.
Social Media Has Made Us All Self-Righteous Assholes.
You wouldn’t walk down the street and scream at an overweight girl, “Go to the gym! You are disgusting”. You’d be thought a total piece of shit if you walked up to a table of two and told them, “You really eat dairy? Don’t you know how many hormone disruptors are in that? You are destroying your chances of having babies. Literally, killing your future children.”
But on the internet, this happens every day. We all become so brave and empowered when sitting behind a keyboard. After all, you can just drop your negative judgements and unsolicited opinions, and then walk away from your screen and go drink your lactose free chia whatever.
You literally have no responsibility to be a good person on the internet.
And in a world of overexposure, where opinions can spread like wildfire with the click of share button, it’s easy to feel important and relevant.
Newsflash: Just because you have internet access, doesn’t make you a scholar. Don’t get me wrong. I greatly appreciate the availability to different views and opinions. There is significance and importance in opposing opinions and viewpoints.
I, in fact, very regularly voice my opinions on social media.
But where does free speech and expression cross into the loss of respect and human decency?
I think of it like this: I have a neighbor. She has a hideous hair cut and frequently gardens without a hat and already has a mole on her neck that quite frankly could be cancerous. Although I hold those opinions of her hair, and have concerns about her dermatological health, I am not going to walk over onto HER yard, and tell her those things. Sure, I may or may not be right about her ridiculous haircut. I might be justified in telling her about her mole I have seen. But just because I feel I am justified in my opinions, I am not going to force them down her throat. Besides, she already dislikes me and would probably call the cops for trespassing.
Don’t trespass onto people’s internet lawn and shit in their green grass.
I got a comment last night that accused me of “Not caring about women who aren’t ready to love themselves” and told me “ you are going to lead to a woman to kill herself because you don’t care about them. Their death will be on you. You are the most hateful negative person I have ever met and I hope everyone knows it”
You would think that I wrote some political, controversial, hate filled content. No. She didn’t like something I posted on Facebook.
I can’t lie. I cried my fucking eyes out reading that. I lost my aunt to suicide, and I, myself, have dealt with depression. I didn’t want to carry that weight. I rushed so quickly to fix it. I drafted up an email to try to repair this non existent life I was killing. I had a full fledged panic attack thinking of how I am destroying people by being a social media presence.
But then I got my sh*t together and realized, that’s just her opinion.
I could have fought back. I could have told her she’s wrong and defend my opinion. After all, she came on my internet playground and forced her views on me. She attacked me on my home base like most internet bullies search out to do. I’m sure I could of come up with or searched some really big adjectives to describe her shitty behavior and lack of respect.
But instead, I kept scrolling. Because that’s what big girls do. They respect the rights of others to have opinions. They know their worth and value aren’t decreased because someone tells them their thoughts and feelings are irrelevant. And then they go write a seething blog post about respect on the internet.
Because, after all, social media has made us all self righteous assholes.
Originally posted 2016-07-12 20:25:07.
Picture it. It’s 4pm on a Friday. You just drove 4 hours with two kids, working and trying to make to do lists in between the fighting and “are we there yet?’s”. You can’t wait to get to the pool. As you’re walking there, sweating, lugging two kids, 4 pool noodles and beer in your hand, you hear,
“Dude. She needs to lock up the two piece and beer. I can’t tell if that’s beer gut or mom fat.”
I stopped. I saw two girls, no older than 16. I shouldn’t have walked over to them. I should have kept walking. I should have chalked it up to “ young immature minds.”
But my kids heard, too. So I couldn’t.
So I walked over, introduced myself, and I told them,
“ I want you to know I appreciate your opinion. I understand every one of us have them. I spend my days giving my honest opinion all day long online. I wanted to let it go. But my kids are listening. And I am teaching them to have a voice, but to use it for good. I am teaching them that you are free to have an opinion, but not to be rude. You can be honest, but without empathy it is just abusive. The truth is, yes- I do have mom fat. I also have a beer gut. Whatever this stomach that you find offensive is, keeps my kids warm during snuggles and is fluffier because of smore’s under blanket forts and pajama pizza parties. This two piece, once gave me so much anxiety in a Target dressing room that I cried for two hours. I could sit here and tell you how I have worked hard to overcome disordered eating, anxiety and depression. I could tell you that I spent years at war with my reflection and missed out on life because I hated myself that much. I could tell you how hard I worked to take care of my body and respect it enough to stop hating it. I could force my opinion on you of how damaging I think your comments are. I could give my opinion on how rude and damaging I think you are being. I could give you my honest thoughts on how you are small minded, rude little girls who need to find a damn hobby besides judging other women. But that’s just my opinion. So instead I will tell you, I will not apologize for my mom bod. I will not lock away my swimsuits, nor my body, nor my right to go swimming and drink a beer in the summer. I hope you never feel insecure or inferior because of others opinions. I hope you know your worth and never feel pressure from outside forces to look or act a certain way. And I hope you raise your daughters to stand up to anyone who tells them they can’t wear whatever and be whoever the fuck they want. Now, I have beer to drink. Go call your mothers.”
Originally posted 2016-07-09 01:54:01.
I may be dating myself by saying this, but the closest I had to social media when I was in high school was AIM. ( I had some killer away messages, let me tell you.) I was messed up enough in those socially formative years. I can’t even imagine if I was worried about how many followers I had or if someone was sending my high school boyfriend Colin DM’s on Instagram. In my younger years, I was impressionable. Hell, 3 years ago I fell for the whole “I have to tell you it works in the brand name to overcompensate for the fact that its just Saran Wrap and water weight you’re losing” bit. So yea, it still lingers. (News Flash- if they have to name it ‘ this shit really makes you lose weight’ or something similiar, it probably doesn’t)
It’s human nature to want to put your best self out there. It’s ingrained in most of us from birth to succeed. Win. Be liked. We are raised idolizing celebrities and sports stars that get paid to run and throw a ball or lay in bed and take a perfect selfie. But this idolization has grown. It isn’t just mainstream celebrities or limited to your 8pm shows or drive to the work on the radio. Hell, Kim Kardashian makes millions for… do we even know yet? Has this mystery been solved? (Seriously though- what the fuck does she do? )We strive to obtain the social norm of perfection.
In a day where everyone is constantly connected and flooded with pretty square pictures or the most craftily stringed together words the 140 character limit will allow, everyone wants to be popular. Get one more like. Gain one more more follower. There is article on top of article telling you what you should believe and what you should wear and how you should eat and when you should blink. Everyone has become a fitness expert. Everyone knows how to tell you what you are doing wrong and what you can improve and why you aren’t good enough. We spend our days comparing. It’s hard not to. But, my friends, comparison is the thief of joy.
So when I talk to younger girls, my heart breaks. I am on the last leg of my 30th year, and I still have to dig deep to find my self love and confidence every morning when I wake up. Then dig even deeper throughout the day. I’m like the archaeologist of digging for that self worth, yall. (Minus the degree and ugly brown get up they wear. Or is that just in the movies?) Not only are they worrying about what to wear, remembering their dance team tryout dance or their speech for student council, but they are constantly connected. I can’t imagine how I’d find ways to love myself, if every morning I wake up to my Instagram feed to perfect bodies. Or stepped away from my computer to, you know, LEARN at school, and came back to 2398 tweets, DMS and Facebook messages. I get overwhelmed when I set my phone down to go fill up my wine glass and have 2 notifications.
This is a recipe for self worth destruction.
So when I get asked,
“Why are you so real? You really put EVERYTHING out there. You’re brave.”
I usually smile or emoji politely and simply say,
“I strive to be an example of a real woman in a real world. That’s all.”
But the long hand version of that answer is this:
This world is scary. Especially for young girls. Especially today. I was one of those young girls. Cutting out the Victoria’s Secret swimsuit pictures and putting them on my fridge to stop me from eating. Buying the same outfit as Tonya, the cool girl, so people would like me more. Thinking I needed better boobs to be pretty. Now today’s it all about butts, who knew? But my point- No one is as perfect as their social media feeds. They all wake up with morning breath. And wear leggings on days they are bloated. And cry. And struggle. They just don’t show it. And it’s a shame. A damn shame. I needed someone to show me my mess wasn’t abnormal. My body was like 90% of other women. I needed someone to show me what it’s like to fail. I needed examples of women who have gone through some shit. Some really hard, down in the gutter, dark and twisty stuff- and survived. Because that’s all any of us are trying to do. Survive. Feel less alone. Accepted. Supported. And I don’t think you have to be a size two, living in suburbia former high school cool girl who married the hot guy to feel that. So here’s to the girls who don’t have their shit together. The ones who have cried in a bathroom. The one’s who have fought battles no one knows about. The one’s who keep working on themselves. The one’s who aren’t afraid to show the real them. The non highlight reel. Because those are the examples we need to see. That’s who fills my feeds. Who runs in my circle. Because real is so hot right now.”
So to you, the girl who just picked herself apart after endlessly scrolling your feeds- Stop. Stop this. Stop right now.
Unfollow anyone who doesn’t make you feel good about yourself. Online and in real life. Rid yourself of the obnoxiously unattainable “perfect”. Because, you my friend, kick ass. So go out into the world and keep doing that. Every. Damn. Day.
Originally posted 2016-03-19 19:07:05.
I am a victim of your sexual assault.
I have never uttered those words before. But, you see, I’m tired. Carrying around what should be your guilt for 16 years has exhausted my soul.
You will probably never experience consequences for violating me that night. It was my fault. That’s what you told me. Why would you?
After all, I invited you to that party that night. I drank too much and lost control. I picked out the clothes you held on to when you told me how much I wanted you to touch me. It was my fault I went into that bedroom with you to use the bathroom at the party. It was my fault I was frozen and couldn’t mutter the words get off me when you said, “No one will believe you said no. So might as well do it.”
I stayed silent because I thought I deserved it. I stayed quiet because I thought just because I was able to fight you off and get out of that room before you could get that last article of clothing off me, I wasn’t assaulted. I got drunk, wore too tight of clothes, and I deserved it.
And I’m scared. Scared every time I turn on the news and hear words like ” just locker room talk” or hear sound bytes of powerful men saying things like ” you can do anything you want. And they’ll let you”. It sends me right back to that dark bedroom and all I can feel is a chill running down my spine and your hands on me and I’m that broken, fragile, unworthy girl all over again.
But I have a beautiful girl to raise now. I have this amazing responsibility of teaching her all the beautiful things about herself. I need to teach her she deserves respect. I need her to know her body is her own. I need her to understand that she needs to speak up when bad things happen, even when she’s scared.
So I need to set the example. I will not be scared. I will not accept what happened to me.
You put your hands on me without my consent. That, is the definition of sexual assault.
You stole so much from me. It’s taken me years to understand that I’ll spend my life repairing the harm you did to my self worth in just 30 minutes.
I bet you don’t know that I’ve spent the last 16 years relearning to understand my body is more than the things done to it. I am more than the labels placed upon me that led me to stay silent. You made me feel cheap, disposable, and unworthy. You made me feel that I deserved it.
What you did to me was not okay. I chose to forgive you, for my own inner peace. Although the things you stole from me forced me to become strong and brave, I don’t give you credit for that. I shouldn’t have had to spend my young adult life cleaning up the mess you made of my soul.
But I did.
I am a powerful, brave, ambitious, beautiful, worthy woman. You, nor any person, can take that away from me. I will chose to believe in love and have faith in humanity, despite your hateful disgraceful act against me. I get to chose my place in this world, not you. I will fight fiercely to remind every woman and girl that they are worthy. I will forgive you, because I need to stop being angry. But I will not stay silent.
A brave, strong, worthy woman.
Originally posted 2017-01-20 08:01:36.
Almost 5 years ago, December 14th 2011 to be exact, my son was diagnosed with a rare blood condition known as Autoimmune Hemolytic Anemia.
Every year when December rolls around, it brings me right back to that day in December. I remember the sound in my husband’s voice when he called me at work saying “Shelby you need to come right now. We are going to Arnold Palmer Children’s Hospital.” – I heard a fear I had never heard before. I remember flying down I-4, not knowing what I would be facing when I got to there. It can’t be that bad. Right? Why was Scott scared? I remember it all. Every Second. (If you want to read more about the story of Parker’s diagnosis, you can read more here : Parker’s story)
I remember every face. Every corner I hid in to hide my crying. Every beep of the monitor. Everything. Pain. Fear. Anger. Frustration. Helplessness. I felt it all.
But five years later, I look back and see something far more important.
People often ask me, “Where does he get his big heart?”
I always laugh and reply, “No idea! I got kind of lucky getting such a great kid.”
But I believe he learned it at Arnold Palmer. He learned it when we held the hand of the young boy in the playroom who was too weak to sing because of his latest chemo treatment. He learned it in watching amazing doctors and nurses creating an environment of happiness and hope. He learned it in the kindness he was shown by total strangers, coming to devote time and donate gifts to the children who couldn’t be home for the holidays. He learned it through the compassion and understanding shown by the volunteers who went out of their way to make him smile.
Parker’s time spent over those years have given me such a blessing. My son has learned a deep empathy I have never seen in another human. He cares deeply about others. He is a protector. He is a fixer. He wants to make everyone around him happy.
Today, while me and Parker sat quietly, doing our normal ‘just us’ routine-him eating his cereal, me working a few minutes on my computer before the day starts. Then I came across a picture of him from 5 years ago, with his tubes and blood transfusions and swollen face in the hospital bed, as I backed up some pictures. He glanced at it and got quiet.
I asked him, ” Parker, what is wrong? It’s almost Christmas! No frowns!”
He said to me, “Mom, that picture makes my heart hurt. I am lucky to be all better. I am lucky I get to be home for Christmas. Are there going to be kids that are sick in the hospital like I was, this Christmas?”
As I explained to him the sad truth, he stopped me and said,
“Well mom we need to do something like those nice people did for me. Can we do something?”
“What do you want to do Parker? We live far away now.”
“I want to send them something that will make them happy. Can I send them some of my gifts from Santa? I don’t mind sharing. And I want to send a card to Gladys.”
“Parker, do you remember Gladys? “
“Yes! She was the nice lady who when I got pokey’s she made me smile and made it not hurt so much. I should tell her thank you.”
So, I decided to help Parker give back.
We are attempting to raise funds to buy toys and goods for the same wonderful people that helped us through that difficult holiday season 5 years ago- Arnold Palmer Children’s Hospital Hematology/Oncology Floor.
If you are fortunate enough to be able to help, Parker would be greatly thankful. Can’t contribute money but have a toy or gift or something you want us to give? Email me. I will be glad to help pay for shipping to get it to them.
All funds raised will be donated in the form of toys, goods or monetary donation made directly to APCH.
My favorite memory of our time at Arnold Palmer.
Originally posted 2016-12-07 08:49:34.
Today I will sit around the table, surrounded by loved ones. We will do as we do every year. We will reflect and say one at a time the thing we are most grateful for in our lives.
I’m sure the regulars will come out.
And then they will get to me.
I know what I want to say. I’ve been reflecting about this for some time. I have been trying to figure out how exactly to express the thing I am most grateful for. So instead I’ll likely joke and say ‘leggings’ and or carbs and life goes on.
But I want to tell you. I think it’s important.
It is for me this year.
(Before I tell you, I want you to promise to hear me out? It is going to sound crazy. But…trust me, okay?)
I am thankful for PCOS.
Yes. You did not misread. I am thankful for the condition that has wrecked havoc on my body, mind and life.
Please Understand I am not trying to lie and say I am glad I have this diagnosis. Chronic illness isn’t something you can just sugarcoat with positivity and smiles and make it seem like it’s anything less than it is.
I am certainly not sitting here trying to convince you to give thanks that something bad has happened to you. I am not thankful for losing my aunt too soon. I am not grateful my dog is sick. I am not thankful for the fatal crash I witnessed last week.
I wouldn’t wish PCOS on another woman. If I was given the choice, I promise you I wouldn’t chose to have PCOS. If they woke up tomorrow and had a cure for it, I’d be in line. It is horrible sometimes. It has made for some bad, scary trying dark days.
I remember one of the dark days. On this August day, I wasn’t grateful for PCOS. Laying curled up on the floor of the bathroom, the chills of the square bathroom tiles were cold on my skin, I lay there. In that dark moment, as I fought between uncontrollable sobbing and fighting back the sound escaping my lips so no one would hear, I traced the tiles edges to make the time disappear. I wanted to disappear. As I did, I remembered something someone once told me.
I sat up from that floor, and thought,
“Shelby get through the next minute. It’s just a minute. “
I got through it.
I did it.
Now what?I have grown to realize it’s all in what you do in those ‘Now What?’ moments. It’s then when you have you decide. What’s next? It’s when you have to make a choice.
For me that particular August day, it was deciding to accept and face whatever ‘bad’ day/pain/fear/situation. I would find something good. If I couldn’t find something good, I would find something valuable.
That day was the day I got online and typed in PCOS Support. I was shocked at how little information there was available. Even worse, in the support forums, it was all so sad and negative. Women talking about all the things and dreams and happiness PCOS was going to take from them.
On those that I had to go school and face being called the ‘fat sister’ by the senior boys because I’d rather cry in the bathroom than tell my mom about it, I learned to be resilient.
I’d like to say it played a part in giving me my wit and sense of humor. Being the fat friend wasn’t easy, so I learned to be funny instead.
I learned patience, while I waited for an explanation year after year for why my body was acting different or didn’t feel right. I stayed patient while my body failed me cycle after cycle.
And when I had enough of feeling clueless about my own body, I became my own health advocate.
It’s really hard to love a body you don’t understand or feel comfortable in. It has been one of the hardest thing’s I’ve done, letting go of expectations of what to look like and hatred of my own body for not following suit but I’ve discovered self love. When you start to love yourself, amazing things happen. When you love yourself you forgive yourself. Self forgiveness lead me to bravery in ways I wouldn’t understand. But I chose to have to believe things happen for a reason.
And today, on Thanksgiving, PCOS gives me hope.
That August day I felt hopeless. I can’t tell you why I suffered that early loss that summer. I don’t know how I wound up feeling so alone and wanting to disappear myself, surviving by getting through minutes. I thought for the longest time that PCOS just wanted to take away everything good in my life.
So I don’t know what possessed me to seek out support online. On any other given day I probably would have joined in with the other women feeling victimized and letting our diagnosis take away from our lives. But I didn’t. Maybe I was ready to accept my diagnosis. Maybe I wanted to help.
Maybe I refused to let PCOS take one more thing from me.
Whatever it was, I wasn’t looking back.
And so I am grateful, because that day
PCOS Saved my life.
( It just took a really round about explanation to realize that.)
and when I get stuck in a ‘Now What?’ situation, I remember…
It’s a bad day, not a bad life.
Originally posted 2016-11-24 05:01:29.
It never fails, every time I start talking to women about why they’ve decided to commit to one of my programs, it starts out with a negative:
My stomach is poochy…
My butt is too small…
It’s impossible to lose weight…
I hate X body part…
…always negative. Don’t get me wrong. I know my job as a coach is to help women achieve their fitness goals. But what I’ve discovered is flaw focused fitness NEVER works. It’s essential to incorporate an proactive approach to digging deeper.
You aren’t born hating your body. You are taught how to. Unlearning self-hate is hard. When we start valuing ourselves in the present, our goals become more love driven. The way you think about your body has effect on what your actions and motivations on rooted in.
My whole life I’ve been on the weight gain and loss roller coaster. Dieting for all wrong reasons, spending my life on the treadmill to the point of fatigue, skipping as many meals as I can- and despising my body and myself the entire time. To me, fitness and health was a form of punishment for not being good enough now.
When I struggled to lose even one pound, it became all consuming. When I didn’t lose it in the timeline I had planned ( i.e. drop 3 lbs for next months party, get down a size by summer) I’d say SCREW IT, and go right back to the self-destructive, self-loathing behaviors that got me here in the first place.
No wonder I was miserable and depressed. I hated me, and every action I took to correct myself was based in hate.
Looking back, after a lot of work to refocus on loving my body and actively focusing on treating my body like I love it, I have shifted my entire life. Sure, I still have moments of picking myself apart. I work on letting those go everyday. Self-love isn’t a one stop destination. It’s a continuous life long journey. It took a long time learning to hate my body, it’s not going to be unlearned overnight.
When I shifted away from flaw focused fitness and grounded my habits in health and happiness in the present, I’ve achieved something more than just a smaller jean size or weight. Ive achieved peace.
I know setting fitness and nutrition goals and working hard is important, but it’s not life consuming. It’s important to set goals that aren’t based on a timeline, number or reflection in the mirror. Those changes are a happy side effect of adopting this new mindset.
It’s time to unlearn the self hate and body shaming. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it. You’re worth it.
Stop being a bitch to yourself.
I mean it. Next time you catch yourself standing in the mirror, pause. That nasty thing youre about your body, call your friend and say it to her.
Oh, you wouldn’t dare tell Karen her stomach is disgusting and her arms are too jiggly? No. You’d be friendless AND a new membership to the mean girl club.
So why do we talk this way to ourselves? Why are we such bitches to our own body?
Instead, set a goal that’s based on making you feel strong and brave? What goals will make you feel GOOD while achieving them?
Set those goals.
You are worthy now! Got it?
Let me repeat that. You are SO worth it.
Those negative thoughts that we kicked out the door, now need to be replaced with positive, motivating ones. Can’t find one?
Start small. What’s one tiny thing you think is bad ass about you? You have an amazing smile. You are incredibly kind. Anything. Come up with a list of them to readily sub in when your mean girl creeps in.
this creates a mind shift into self forgiveness and self- acceptance. All those amazing things you do or say for BFF Karen, do for yourself. Because you love yourself and are worthy. It’s time to start accepting you are and acting like it.
Working hard is important..
Now that we’ve committed to keeping our goals coming from a place of love and worth, you have to commit.
For many, this is the hardest part. In a society focused on convenience and moving fast, we want to believe that there is a simple quick solution.
THERE’S not. I know, ridiculous right? You mean you actually have to work at something and commit to achieving your goals? blasphemy.
But really, you have to be ready. This is why the self love and acceptance is so important. When you understand that health and happiness is a lifelong journey, and not a 21 day quick ‘fix’, you are more prepared. When you accept that your worth isn’t coming from your weight or size, you are more self-forgiving. |When your work is put in because you love yourself, you are unstoppable.|
No one can do this for you. No magic shake or pill with teach you to take care of yourself and make you healthy. Thats on you, boo boo.
Health doesn’t have to feel like torture.
Exercise because you love your body-fitness isn’t punishment. When you first start, it may feel that way. Give it a few weeks. It may take trial and error to find what you enjoy doing.
Eating ‘right’ shouldn’t make you miserable. There is no one size fits all for nutrition. That’s why all these nutrient eliminating or severely restrictive diets are so detrimental. You have to find the balance and plan that works for you and YOUR life. Eating is about fueling your body.
Relax. I mean it.
Your body and health didn’t get to where they are right now overnight. Unhealthy and unhappy are developed and grow over years of negative habits.
So if it took you your whole life to get to this current state of feeling unhealthy, why do we expect to wake up one day and be perfect and the shining example of health??You’re putting unrealistic and unfair when you expect to change over night.
Change comes from working hard for success, being patient while you learn new positive habits, and forgiving yourself when you are human and struggle.
Set some goals. Love yourself. Be brave and get Strong.
Originally posted 2016-11-05 19:24:51.
Dear past Shelby,
Girl. I wish I could hug you so tight. I wish I could squeeze all that self doubt you have festering inside you out. I wish you could see all the things I see now looking back, and all the things mom told you all along. Listen to mom. She is always right. Except on the perm thing. That shit is whack.
I hate to tell you this, but you are wrong about everything. But it’s ok, you’re supposed to be.
A few things I want to tell you.
I’m proud of you. You’ll never regret choosing the right thing over the cool thing. Even if you spend your whole senior year at a lunch table alone. Choose the right thing. Again and again. You’re cool. I promise. You just don’t know it yet.
STOP filling your voids with stuff. Boys. Shopping. Drinking. Lots of drinking. Fake friendships. None of it will help. In fact most of it will make it worse.
Be nicer to yourself. Weighing ten pounds less does not make you a better or more interesting person. Weighing ten or twenty pounds more does not make you unloveable. For every day or every moment you criticize yourself, you are cheating yourself out of your fullest joy.
Be thankful for what you have. Dwelling on what you don’t have will only keep bringing you nothing. Gratitude is powerful. It’s changing my life everyday as I write this. It improves your health and relationships. Besides, life is a gift and you should be most thankful for that.
You’re going to have unimaginable losses in the years to come—don’t be afraid to face them head on. (Go to the funeral. You’ll regret it every day if you don’t.) You’re going to walk through a valley of grief but you’re going to come through the other side a stronger, braver woman. You’ll need these experiences to hold up the others when life knocks them down.
Nothing will go as you planned. None of it. Don’t freak out. All the forks in the road and life altering stuff that happens? It makes you one bad ass woman.
You won’t believe this now, but you are not going to be lonely. There are loads of unbelievably wonderful people in your future, and you will be overwhelmed with gratitude for the goodness and love in your life. You’re going to discover some things about yourself that will surprise and delight you, and this world will be a better place for having had you in it. So hang in there, kid. Remember, we’re all just winging it in life, and none of us is here very long. The journey is the reward, and it’s a wonderful journey.
Your older, wiser, cooler unpermed self.
Originally posted 2016-11-05 12:40:34.
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