I Am Erin, Hear Me Roar

I know I've been gone for some time from the blogging world. I just haven't had much to report... Settling into my new city with my roommate, my job search, etc. It's hard to find anything to say when your life is so chaotic. 

Until today.

I went to wash my hands after a client in the locker room down the hall from the fitness center. The bathroom is heated to 90 degrees (AKA the surface of the sun) and is very humid from the pool in the next room. Sometimes I despise going in there, but sometimes it feels like I'm being hugged by a freshly-dried blanket out of the dryer. 

I wash my hands with soap and water after every single client, much like a doctor does between patients. I am having a great hair day today and I mentally compliment myself on a straightening well done. I had a moment in the bathroom when I stepped back and took a good look at my reflection. I didn't look at the parts of my body that I'm not too happy with. I didn't revel in pride. I just looked. I saw the girl who has fought hard for a long time.

My life for the past 2 years (or so) has been full of roller coaster thrills, and the majority of them not the good, put-your-hands-in-the-air thrills. My health has been tested to such an extent that I had to quit working for a few months. My fitness levels plummeted while I was in treatment. I had a horrible job that perpetuated my declining health. I lost faith in a lot of good things, and for far too long it just felt like I was never going to get out of the cycle of being kicked while I was already down. 

Then I took a completely blind leap of faith and moved across the country. 

I moved as far as I possibly could away from Florida and still be in the continental United States. There have been some downs while being up here, but that is to be expected after such a big change. 

Since October 2014, life around me has been exciting, heartbreaking, thrilling, fun, frustrating, and overall VERY fluctuating. I have seen my bubbly, exuberant, generally-optimistic, fit, energetic self turn into a slightly quieter, tired, duller version. It's been a slow change, but I have looked at myself recently and thought "I didn't used to look like this". No, I'm not depressed. But my facial features changed slightly. Blame it on gaining a little bit of weight, blame it on stress. But my "look" changed.

I washed my hands today after my client at 11:00am. I looked in the mirror, complimented myself on a good hair day, and briefly, in that solitary moment of me alone in the women's locker room, I saw the old me back. 

I can feel my life shifting. I can feel myself slowly reverting back to the old me. And it is wonderful.

Skinny Does Not Equal Worthy: Body Image and the Detrimental Effects of Social Media

While everyone on the east coast is sleeping, I am awake, wired, and angry.

Tonight I did not make the most mature decision. I decided it would be a fantastic idea to eat Trader Joe's White Cheddar Corn Puffs and Dark Chocolate Covered Almonds for dinner. Both delicious. Both dangerous. And now it's midnight, I am on a sugar high, and I feel like barfing. This is what adulthood is like, right?

After my embarrassing pig out tonight, I realized that some dietary changes are desperately needing to happen. I did what I used to do when I was at my fittest and I went on Pinterest to get some ideas and motivation to get out of this icky, sugary, cheese-puffy slump and get back on my healthy habit train. But when I got onto the Health and Fitness section of the site, I was all but motivated.

About a year and a half ago, I would have gone to the same exact site, looked at the same exact posts, read the same words, and gotten my fire back. Tonight, I was furious and plain disappointed. The habits still need to change, and believe me, I will be eating obsessively healthy tomorrow to make up for the zillion calories I ate today. But what I saw online was the opposite of motivating.

Nothing I saw was empowering, or engaging, or even slightly inspiring. I saw women with amazing bodies who either are professional fitness models or naturally tiny. Neither of which am I. I have naturally wide hips, a metabolism that slows down if I look at a potato chip, and a hereditary predisposition to have some extra plumpness on my bones. That is all fine, but I'm a dancer and a trainer and I like to stay trim because it makes me feel good and makes my life easier.

I am an ACSM Certified Personal Trainer. I am on the certification exam team for the American College of Sports Medicine. My college degree is in Health and Wellness Promotion. I have dedicated my life to the wellness and physical well-being of others. But one of the biggest things I've learned in my industry is that physical health, stamina, weight loss, and maintenance comes in so many different colors. With the assistance of TV commercials, movies, and celebrities, social media has taught us all that healthy equals skinny. Or healthy equals curvy. Or skinny equals worthy. Or _________ equals _________. We all have these ideas in our mind that one specific thing equals the other specific thing.

Enough. 

The message that I read in those "fitspo" posts tonight was humiliation, degradation, embarrassment, unnecessary comparison, and false information.

 

[Above]

Coming from a strictly professional opinion, many of these articles are absolutely, flat-out false advertising. Like this one above, some articles are promising to lose a certain amount of weight in a certain amount of time. This specific one is unhealthy and, dare I say, dangerous. This type of habit is what kick-starts eating disorders. According to the American College of Sports Medicine and the CDC, healthy, sustainable weight loss is around 1-2 lbs a week. Your body will just be getting rid of water if it's any faster than that. (Or even worse, pure muscle.)

Some articles are promising to look like the portrayed body in the picture.  "Look like this by the summer". "Get this body fast!"
Yeah, okay.
 Do you know how many different body types and metabolism combinations there are out there? Thousands.

Some women (and men) have a naturally tight and thin frame.  

And that is okay. 

 Some people are naturally curvy. 

And that is okay.  

Some people have a hard time gaining weight because their metabolism is so fast.  

And that is okay.  

Some people are top-heavy or bottom-heavy or everything-heavy or nothing-heavy. And guess what? 

That is okay. 

[Above]
This article very well could have some validity to it. I have not done enough research to know how to lose weight based on your body type. But this graphic is insinuating that the body types on the bottom of the image are not okay and need to be changed. Look at the body language they were created with - chin down, hands behind their back, bad posture... They were created to give the subliminal, or in my opinion blatant, message that they are not comfortable with the way they look. This is horrendous. The women at the top are gorgeous. The cartoon women at the bottom are gorgeous. Every single one of them. They are all just different; none of them have a "this body type" or "that body type". Why are we fighting "just different"?

What broke my heart the most while scrolling further and further down was the language that was used on some of the graphics. 

So much of what I see today on the internet is "what you are doing right this moment is wrong". What you are thinking of doing later is not okay.

If you are not doing something right this minute that is making you look different than you are right now, then you should be ashamed. You should feel embarrassed for not working toward a body that you very well might not be naturally made for.

Why?

Why are we so obsessed with looking a certain way? I certainly know that even if I worked every single day for hours a day to look a certain way, I would still not have the body in these images without plastic surgery and absolute deep, insanity. But that's just me. I would not be happy living that lifestyle.

Again, many of these people are either professional fitness models and/or naturally made for these body types. If that is the case, then that is fantastic for them. I hope that is what they want out of life. And I hope they are happy with their results because by good lord, they deserve it. They deserve to show off their hard work. They deserve to wear what makes them feel comfortable. They deserve a slow clap. And I will tip my hat to them. That much hard work for anything is impressive. But when I see something that says "what you look like is not okay, you should look like this" is when I lose my cool.

No. 

No, I don't want to look like that because it's not me. No, I don't want to look like that because it means I have to starve myself, or I have to do 8,000 squats in an hour, or I have to have surgery, or I have to do whatever it is that I would need to to look like this person. Because according to what that sentence says, I do not have what it takes to be worthy of approval.

[Above]
This woman is gorgeous in both pictures. She did not need to lose weight. At all. If that's what she wanted to do, then good for her! Clearly she worked very hard. But this is giving the message that if you look like her at her week 1, then you have work to do. I hate that. God forbid you don't have a thigh gap. You need to not be satisfied with the body that looks like that because it could look like this instead.

[Above]
"Lose Your Love Handles". Similar to the previous comment, this is convincing women that if you have ONE FREAKING INCH of fat on your hips, you should lose it. If you have something different than what is pictured, then you are wrong and it must be changed.

No it does not. Your extra inch of fat on your hips (or like me, extra ACTUAL BONE) does not make you less worthy. It does not make you less wanted. It does not mean your brain is incredible or your ass is amazing or your eyes are mesmerizing. Your hips, your boobs, your shoulders, your wrists, your ear lobes do not define who you are.

[Above]
Plain and simple, I know many thicker women who can "rock their skinnies" better than anyone else.

You do not need to be skinny to wear skinny jeans. 

You do not need to have this to do that. 

You are amazing.

You are perfect. 

Stop looking elsewhere for motivation. Stop comparing yourself to someone else. Stop all of this negativity. No more photoshop. No more alterations. No more surgery to alter these gorgeous, amazing, capable, powerful machines that we were given. 

Explore your body. See what it can do. See what your brain can do. Test your physical limits. What can you achieve with the god-given body you have right this minute?

Maybe the greatest thing you can do right this minute is breast-feed. Maybe you embrace your body's ability to hug your wife. The greatest thing you could do right now could be to solve a very difficult algebra equation. And you very well could go run a marathon tomorrow. 

We all have different abilities and qualities and attributes. 

Let's celebrate that instead. 

Lose weight because you want to feel good. Do a crossword puzzle because you want to increase your brain elasticity. Gain weight because you want to be stronger or fit into clothes better. Work out because you want a healthy heart or because you don't want to struggle to walk up two flights of stairs. Eat well because you want to have more energy, a clearer mind, and less risk of disease.

Or change because you want to prove to yourself that you are capable of making positive changes.

Don't change your body because the internet says your body isn't a good enough body.
Don't change the way you think your thinks because it's not the popular think to think.

Change your body because you want to feel better.
Change your life because you want to be a better you.



Or don't change at all.



We're all pretty incredible as is.



Love,
Erin

An Egg Made Me Write This

Here's an update for everybody who asked for updates on my treatments and my health. After seeing the doctor about three times in Jacksonville, I officially ate a piece of an egg without having any reaction. My elation and relief flooded me so deeply that I nearly started to cry. 

My relationship with food has been a really rocky one, as many of you know by now. I don't keep it a secret because it's a part of me. Pardon the cliche but it has helped shape who I am today, for better or worse. 

When I was 18 I developed an eating disorder and lost about 20 pounds in just a few weeks, and my relationship with food has struggled ever since (too much, too little, too this, too that...) About a year ago I developed a slue of food allergies. I've gone from not wanting to eat anything to eating so much I couldn't taste the food and had to nearly crawl to my bed. Because of my experiences, I want to educate others about how to treat their sweet, beautiful, powerful bodies. So this current journey to  personal health has not only been a very physical one, but it is having a profound affect on me mentally and emotionally too.

My Health and Wellness B.S. degree has taught me a vast amount of information about how to take care of your body, how to spread healthy living principles, and how to create our own mental well-being and the importance of living in a low stress environment. But turning those hours of lectures and notes and research onto yourself is more difficult than you would think. 

Eventually, I got almost total control of my food relationship for a few years. It was amazing. And I felt so free. I can't wait to be back there.

When my food allergies hit last February, I felt like I had completely lost control. I had no choice over what I could and could not eat. Everything hurt. I gained weight, I had to stop exercising, my asthma got so bad I'm on a steroid, dance was put on the back burner, and my fitness level has plummeted to a point where I get sore from yoga; something that used to bring me inner calmness and peace and prayer and wonderful introspective time.

When I started this NAET treatment, I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit skeptical. Even though I was brought up in an incredibly holistic environment, seeing a chiropractor at 2 weeks old and always seeing a naturalist before a western doctor, this new technique seemed kind of far-fetched even for me. But when I read the incredible amount of positive testimonials, saw multiple doctors practicing the same technique, and did a lot of research about this very eastern-based medicine, I knew that it was my only option of complete recovery. I had to give it a chance. 


The first food that they desensitized me too was egg. I was told by another doctor that after seeing my blood test results I probably wasn't going to be able to eat the extreme-sensitivity food ever again. This included cows milk, mushrooms, eggs, gluten, and yeast, among others.

Of course when I stayed away from all of these foods, I felt immensely better. I would go weeks without having the slightest hint of an allergic reaction and then BOOM. I would accidentally eat something wrong and be sick for hours to days.

And yesterday I ate an egg. I ate a cage free, organic, vegetarian fed egg. 

It wasn't the whole egg actually, it was maybe a tablespoon of egg white and a teaspoon of yoke. 

I stared at the pure white little slimy jiggly thing sitting in the Ramekin on my counter. I knew that I very well could be making myself sick by eating this stupid little hard-boiled egg. 

But after the first 20 minutes I felt fine ... and eventually I realized three hours later I felt fine.

No reaction. 

I ate a freakin' egg. 

To someone without food allergies or sensitivities, this feeling cannot be described. This egg, this little protein ball opens so many doors and gives me so much hope. 

My life has been changed by this whole experience. (The allergies, not the egg...) I hope that I'll be able to look back and see that my life has changed positively by this, as difficult as it may be right now. As I'm typing this, I'm looking at how bony, skinny, and dry my hands are - not enough fat. Not enough protein. Not enough of the right nutrients. They look aged. Tired. My whole body is tired. And it shows in my hands. Go figure.

The past 15 months has been a very rough road for me but I am still looking forward to this next year. I know that whether straight or curvy, bumpy or smooth, gravel or asphalt, my road will present lessons that will lead me to live a more fulfilling, easier, happier life.

Roads are funny like that. If we know where we are going, the ride won't seem as intriguing. If we sit back, feel every bump, every unexpected curve, and enjoy the view, we will find something so innate, so primal in ourselves that we often forget to harness.

Trust. 

Trust in ourselves. God. The road. The Universe. Trust that we will be okay.

Our paths will give us incredible life-changing experiences. Whether fun or painful, we will look back at the crazy, ever changing road knowing that we are ahead of it all and that life continued, no matter how difficult it was to go through. 

I am so painfully, wonderfully, desperately excited to finally feel better. 

And there's no price you can put on feeling well. 

One step at a time. One day at a time. Hell, even one minute at a time. 

I am taking this particularly sharp and bold curve with confidence that I will get through it fearlessly, seamlessly, and with my eyes wide open, ready to take in the view at the other side.

A Lesson on Ripples

After having a little temper tantrum tonight, I needed to take a relaxing bubble bath and have an ugly cry by flickering candlelight and listen to the John Mayer Pandora station (l o v e ). It's my go-to zen time other than yoga or a run. Seriously a scene out of a rom-com.

I was looking at the beautiful perfect little flame coming from one of my candles and sort of just gazing away into nothingness, not sure what to think or feel, just a little numb after my pity-cry. I am also sick with my 7th or 8th cold in about 4 months, so it could have been that too...

My mom is the best at letting me really, truly just explode my emotions all over the place and then helping me piece them all back together and look at life objectively with a fresh sense. Bless her heart, she's done it so many times. Often after I go through the cycle of "confusion - anger - defense - self pity - acceptance - wonder - hope - trust - gratitude", I'm not sure how to feel. An hour beforehand, I was angry and confused and now I'm grateful for what I have and what I trust is coming to me. It's a little roller coaster-y. But without my mom helping me navigate that roller coaster, I would have a much harder time figuring life out. (Thanks, momma)

I saw the flame coming from the purple lavender candle on the edge of my tub. And then something happened that hasn't happened in the many zen-baths before, and if it has, I don't recall it having any effect on me. I saw the wiggly, static of the flame's reflection in the water. The ripples just made the dancing flame much more jumpy and sporadic and unpredictable. It was actually somewhat mesmerizing.

If I moved even the slightest bit, the candle's reflection would turn to wiggles and abstractness. If I stay perfectly still, the water calms and I can see a beautiful reflection of the entire scene - the candles, the walls, the steam, everything. All I had to do was stop moving and stop messing up the beautiful view I had.

My most recent Instagram post was about creating white space for ourselves. In that white space, the universe can intervene and give you a helping hand if need be. I think I accidentally made some white space for myself tonight. My little moment of white space made me realize that I need to stop fighting so much, and just let the scenes of my life unfold in front of me. The water and the candle was a major metaphor for my life as it is right now.

The metaphor being: Reality is pure and good and beautiful (the candlelit bathroom, beautiful music, etc.), but with a touch of unpredictability (the flame). If I avert my attention downward, keep moving and wiggling, and fighting, all I see is mess. It's nearly impossible to see what is physically surrounding me. If I stop squirming and let my surroundings (life) come into view, it's a really beautiful scene that brings me a lot of happiness and peace.

That's all for tonight. Not much. Not terribly profound. Hell, I don't even know if this will make sense to anyone who reads it... but it made sense to me, and that's all that mattered in my little off-white, porcelain bath tub tonight.

Namaste. 

Love Yourselfie

To start this post off, I will say that I am most definitely a medium-sized hypocrite to write what I am about to write... but at least I'm aware of it, so that counts for something, right?

Most people know about my history of body dysmorphia/eating disorders/anxiety, etc. so it's no surprise that that is what is on my mind a lot of the time. (Or everyday, if I'm being honest.)

I went to the gym tonight briefly to feel like I did something. While doing my little curtsy squats, I saw a small young woman set up camp in the area where I was. Well, by "set up camp", I mean she stood there...

She was pretty (seemingly naturally) petite, meaning she didn't have to work hard to have a small waist and thin arms and legs. So, good for her for working out and getting stronger. I didn't think anything of her presence until I saw her turn to the side and clearly start checking herself out. Lifting up her boxy black shirt, she turned to one side, looked at her abdomen, felt the very small bit of fat that her leggings didn't contain, turned to the other side, did the same thing. Stood with her legs in a purposeful thigh-gap-creating position, cocked her head to one side, then the other. This went on for about 2 minutes before she started working out.

Now, hear me out, I'm all for checking my progress in the mirror alone in the bathroom by myself in my home alone... alone. That's just my preference. But go for it. Seriously. You're not offending anyone by checking yourself out in the mirror at a crowded gym - in fact, more power to you because I couldn't do that without feeling weird. Confidence level = 100.

Normally, looking at your swollen muscles in the gym mirror isn't all that uncommon, especially if you're a bro. But it's much more uncommon and more poorly received if you're a woman - but that's just stupid societal gender stereotyping which is an entirely different topic to talk about another day.

Other than her looking at her already-quite-flat stomach, I didn't notice anything odd. What did catch my eye though was the look on her face.

She was judging herself so hard. And it broke my heart.

Now I wonder if I've ever made that face in front of someone else ... or ever. It was awful to see this very becoming young lady look at her anatomically perfect body with such disdain. She didn't seem all too confident in her fitness skills, and she kept glancing over at me and another girl who were playing with some kettle bells in the corner. I just wanted to hug her and tell her she was beautiful and strong and so, so wanted in whatever body she was given. And give her a pointer or two on squatting.

 Again, let me reiterate that I know how hypocritical I sound right now. It kind of made me want to smack myself across the cheek. Why am I pitying her and wanting to help her when I have similar thoughts about my own body? Why do I feel the need to fix my "imperfect" body when it works pretty well?

How dare I ever have a look like that on my face. How dare any woman think she is inadequate. She was there at the gym - that counts as something. She was doing a decent job by herself - that counts as something. And I saw her. I saw her look like a normal woman at the gym. And then I saw her fragility. Her vulnerability. Her frustration with her own skin. Her own fat. Her own "imperfections". To anyone else, they are just the opposite.

I look at heavier men and women at the gym and without knowing an ounce of their character, why they're there, or what is motivating them to get healthier, I feel so happy that they are there. And after seeing this small woman clearly uncomfortable to be in front of other people, I think I'll start reacting the same way when I see anyone of any size in the gym.

Seeing people care for their amazing machine of a body brings me such joy.

I wish more people would be proud of themselves and the fact that they show up to the gym regardless of the way they currently look. In this world, we can and often are judged solely on first impressions. And those judgements fuel mental illnesses, lack of confidence, body shaming, poor health, and hate. Who knows what lies under that 1/2in of belly fat, that extra 30 lbs, or that extra 130 lbs.

To the girl glaring at her 1/2 in. of belly pouch not contained by her leggings, you are so much more than your body. You are too valuable to be treating yourself like that. I've been in your shoes many, many times. And I still have moments just like that in privacy. It's so hard to see what other people see in us. It's often near impossible. But you have to try. Try.

I don't care who you are, if you take care of your body, it will in turn take care of you.

No matter what your size is, no matter if your leggings contain all of you, no matter if you have 2 tummy rolls or 22 tummy rolls when you sit down,  your body is beautiful as is. 

Your soul, even more. 

 Let both of them shine.

A Changed Perspective

You know those times in your life when you look up at the sky, take a deep breath, and feel in your soul of souls that everything is how it should be?

Those small moments, no matter how brief, are what keep me going through life. Those moments are what help me realize that everything really, truly is going to be okay.

Regardless of where my life is trying to take me, you can bet that if it's not where I consciously want it to go, I will be fighting tooth and nail against the current, trying to keep my head above the waves. Even if I have to stop and tread water for awhile, I will fight it. But sometimes the universe just says "NO. THIS IS NOT WHERE YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE HEADED, YOU IDIOT. STOP." And it stop me. Just like that.

My job is not to know where I'm being taken. My job is not to make my own path. My job is to let doors open for me, to let things happen. To take the ups and downs.

 

Just go with the flow...

When I was a kid, growing up in south Florida, we were taught that if you're swimming at the beach and you get caught in an undertow, you have to let it carry you. You CANNOT fight against it because you will tire yourself out and you can easily get yourself farther inside the current. 

It is not my job to know what is coming next, and honestly, if I did, how boring would that be?

All we need is to understand that we don't know right now. We can't know right now. And that's okay. Life is supposed to be shitty and breathtaking and exhilarating and not at all boring.

Life would be such a yawn if we didn't have the twists and turns and ups and downs and trials and heartbreak and everything that makes us human and everything that makes these lives into stories... then we can look back on our lives and say with pride, "I rocked that". 

Why do all of our frustrations and sad times have to be our be-all-end-all, and why do they always rub off on other people? Why can't we all look up at the same sky and realize that we ALL go through these hard times? We all go through trying times. We all have our heart broken once or five times. And we all wish things were different at some point. You wish you were skinny, or had muscle tone, or ate better, or ran faster, or had nicer clothes, or owned a car, etc. We are so often more focused on what we want in the physical world that we are blind to everything we do have. Your car is old? You have one. Your apartment is too small? If it's too small, it means you have so many possessions that you live large. You don't have much money? Well, you have some, now, don't you?

We all look at someone in a magazine or walking down the street, or maybe you personally know the person whose life you would love to live. Envy is a dangerous, all-too-common emotion. But if you think about it, that person who you look up to has a life they would rather live, or at least an aspect of it that they would trade for. But it's usually physical. Material. Disposable. Replaceable. What about the stuff we want on the inside?

Often what we don't see on the outside is what is the most important on the inside. 

Our heart. Our brain. Our nervous system. 

Our emotions. Our childhood. Our permanent bruises. Metal rods. Anxiety. The memory of a scent. Cancer.

We often wish things were different. But there is always someone out there who wishes they had your exact life, or at least large parts of it. 

Because we're human, often what we only see in ourselves is the flaws, the struggles, etc.

So, live like the person you want to be. Be gracious, thankful, forgiving, kind, courageous. Because in the end, what matters is not the new iPhone, the red sports car, the Michael Kors watch, the fancy handbag or shoes or whatever your physical self desires.

Your job is not to worry about getting this or that ... it's to not worry. It's to trust. To trust the universe, your God, your angels, fate, whatever word you want to assign to it. Trust that you are going through experiences for the sake of the experience.

You are exactly where you are meant to be at this moment.

Trust it. 

|| If Yeh Had Teh Chance to Chenge Yer Fate, Woodjyer? ||

Sitting in a Starbucks.

Get a million texts at once.

All about tying up loose ends in Atlanta. 

Heartbeat quickens.

Brow furrows.

Frown appears.

Shoulders tighten.

This was my every day. 

This is why I left. 

________________________________________________________

I've been thinking lately about waiting awhile before telling people I moved away. Then I realized if I post a picture, say anything about being in Florida, or if anyone from Atlanta asks me to meet up, everyone will find out very soon that I'm not living there any more. So I figured I would tell everyone the best way I know how - write a ridiculous blog post about it and answer all of the expected questions before they're even asked. Boom.

Honestly, it's no one's business why I had to leave. It shouldn't matter and I should be able to say plainly "it wasn't working out" and move on... and most importantly, have the person understand that that's exactly what happened. It didn't work out. No assumptions necessary. I did not get fired. I loved the area. I really liked the people. I really want to move back.

But it didn't work out.

[[Pause. Even as I type this, there is a VERY loud man on a phone sitting right next to me. I have my noise-canceling headphones in trying to listen to Jack Johnson and I can hear almost word-for-word his conversation. (Yo. It's 2015. Screaming into the phone just means you're screaming into the phone and the ear of the person on the other line. They cannot hear you any better. Just... SSSHH.) And I have no reason to be upset. But my anxiety is still on such a Red Alert that this is making me more upset than it needs to. He has every right to be on the phone and loudly smack his defrosted, precooked-egg-and-some-sort-of-fragrant-veggie flat bread sandwich.]]

See? I'm not bitter or lashy-outy.

This is what stress does to me. This is what it means for me to be stressed and anxious. I become robo-bitch and just meander my way through life, waiting for the next awful thing to happen, and then take my frustration out on my poor momma.

When in reality, my life kind of rocks.

My life rocks for many reasons.

I have a loving, comfortable home to come back to. I have an amazing support group behind me literally every single step and obstacle I have faced recently. (Thanks, guys. You know who you are.)

I don't have much of it, but I have money to buy food and clothes. I have what I need.

Life in Atlanta just didn't work out.

Plainly stated? I'm not cut out for a career in personal training. My life sucked when I tried it for a short 7 weeks. Sucked. Eggs. It was awful. I could go into detail about it, but honestly it doesn't matter anymore.

Here's what I learned: 

The stigma of the perfect body is alive and well. And detrimental to people like me.

It's expensive to move. It's expensive to survive.

Working 45 hours a week and waking up at 4:30am can only get you so far in life before you crash.

A few really good people who you connect with is more important than a bunch of people who you get along with on the surface.



So

I changed my path

just like that. 

The immense signs from the universe that a life and career in the fitness industry were clearly received over and over again. So I have decided to follow my heart and not my head for once. 

My head has always said that I love wellness and fitness. And I do. I really do. But I love it for me. I don't love it for a job or a career. I'm grateful for my experience because without it, I wouldn't have started down my path where I belong. I feel powerful in the gym. I feel confident (sometimes). I feel like I'm benefiting myself (and others when I'm training). But the gym isn't my home. It's not where I belong 30-40 hours a week. It's where I belong for my stress-relief. It's where I belong for recovery. It's where I feel like I can shut out the world and focus on me. 

So then, where do I belong?

I belong in the classroom. 

I belong among children.

I belong behind a book, showing pictures.

I belong in front of class with an Expo marker in my hand.

I belong right next to a student when they finally understand something.

I belong grading sweet handwriting and misspelled words. 

I am a teacher. I have always been.

A classroom.

That's where I'm home. 

Something I denied to myself and others for a very long time is that I am a natural teacher. And it's where I truly belong. I made every excuse in the book that I don't want to be under the school board, I don't want to deal with idiotic parents, I don't want the emotional stress of knowing three of my kids are going home to no food, and I don't want to live on a teacher's paycheck. 

And then one day, I just said "yeah well, it's worth it".

I kept saying over and over that this is not definite. It's not permanent. I'm not even certified yet. If I haven't taught in an actual school yet, how do I know? 

Something in my bones knows. In my cells. 

This feels more right than any personal training job or wellness job or anything I've ever thought of doing.

[[Reality Check]] If I start the process of certification and I realize hard and fast that this is, in fact, not the path I'm supposed to take, then it won't be. I'll figure it out. But that's the adventure, right?

If you know me well at all, you know somehow I always return to kids or teaching or counseling or something. I can't stay away from kids for long before I start to get antsy. And after teaching at a curriculum-based summer camp at a museum for eight years, I'm pretty sure I have an idea of what it's all about. 

So what am I doing with my life? I'm enhancing it. I'm making it a happy life. I'm making it a life of enjoyment and passion. I'm not concerned with large amounts of money. Family and friends and passion. That's what makes happiness. I'm not remaking my story, I'm simply adding a very short chapter and moving on to the next adventure. In this moment of clarity, which will likely go away the moment I close my laptop after writing this, I am content with the way my life has unfolded in the past few months. Things have happened the way they were supposed to. Everything is going to be alright. It will. The universe is just saying "Hey, this way instead. It's better. Trust me." So for once, I'm listening. And I can't wait to report what unfolds next.

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On my way home to Florida last night, I cried a lot. So much has happened that's just plain not fair the past few months. It's not fair. I have come dangerously close to throwing a tantrum like a three year old far too many times.

I didn't make myself cry. I let the emotions come when they wanted to. Once the tears came, they didn't stop.

After I queued up some great "cry songs" on my phone and let myself release, I was driving through a horrible storm. Like black skies, should-pull-over, awful storm. And through puffy eyes, a dribbly nose, and fatigue quickly setting in, I was thinking about what to do with my life. Then I heard myself say something.

"Just be here. Just be present."

I learned the hard way that no matter the amount of "what ifs" you reel through your head, the universe has vastly different plans. Your what ifs aren't going to do a damn thing but distract you from the journey you're on.  

We all have times that our patience is tried, our trust is shaky, our hearts are broken, or our souls are just plain tired. We are all going through shaky times at some point. Keep this in mind when you're interacting with someone who might be going through a tough time. You don't know their story. Even if you did, you're not the one experiencing it. When you're going through a rough time, it's not an excuse to be mean or rude or lack patience. Your bad mood is contagious. So smile through the pain. Fake it till you make it. 

If smiles were worth points, those points add up eventually. And eventually, you won't have to fake it anymore.

It's never too late to change paths. Some times are harder than others, but that doesn't mean you can't be happy. You deserve to be happy. 

You deserve that. 

We all do.