Let It Go

Have you ever had one of those moments where everything is just suddenly crystal clear and you just know what it is that you want to do when you grow up? I hadn't either.  Not astoundingly, movie moment, whoa clear like today.

When I jumped into the fitness industry back in January, I knew that this was something I was supposed to do.  I can't explain it, I just knew.  Fitness is something that's always been an underlying passion of mine, something that was always there when perhaps other things were not.  I had pondered pursuing a career in it on multiple occasions, but things just never "worked out".  Ever had that happen to you? 

I've had several - what we would call in the teaching world -  "ah-ha" or "lightbulb" moments in the past couple of weeks.  Moments of crazy clarity like I've never had them before.  I assume it's because certain events in my life recently have caused me to reflect back on some things... and I began understanding why certain things had to happen to get me to this point in my life.  I've wrestled with insecurities the size of behemoth monsters for most of my life: what does so-and-so think of me, what if I'm not good enough, what if I fail, what if people don't take me seriously, what if they judge me, what if I can't do it as good as he/she can, comparing myself to others around me, etc... 

Much like Elsa in Frozen, I've allowed my fears and insecurities to hold me back in sooooo many instances of my life.  Which, if you've seen the movie, proves to do nothing more than make you a prisoner in your own life.  It's absolutely true when they say that comparison is the thief of joy - why do we allow ourselves to compare who we are to somebody else? Aren't we taught from basically birth that we are our own unique individual? I'm going to ask you to pause right here for a moment.  I would apologize for the Frozen references, but it's literally a movie on repeat at our house.  Both of my kids love it, and the more I watch it, the more I realize how adult it really is and how many teachable moments are woven throughout it.  Bravo Disney.  If you've never taken the time to really stop and listen to the lyrics of Let it Go, I suggest you do so now.  I never realized how deeply I related to the song until the past couple of weeks ,and I was supremely amazed at how true it can be - our fears and insecurities can do a bang up job of holding us back and giving us a false identity.  You can't really grasp onto who you are until you let them go...  ;)  

My life - on a lot of levels - has kind of been upended.  Most of my roots are still exactly where they were - my relationship with my husband is stronger than ever, life with my kids is joyous and frustrating all at the same (which is how parenting rolls most days, haha!), I have a best friend that has never ceased to love me for who I am even when I've stumbled through the realities of who that person might be... but there are a few differences that weren't there before.  And I'm suddenly very OK with that.  It's allowed me to see that we are in control of our own happiness, our own success, our own dreams.  I've got my husband and kids to consider of course, but it's not my job to make anyone else outside of them happy - to seek anyone else's approval for my choices - to rearrange my life to meet somebody's else expectations.  And when you realize all of that, it's like a fog is lifted off your shoulders and life becomes very clear.  :)  

I went to college to become a teacher because ever since I was little that what's I really, really thought I was supposed to do.  In college, there were a few times that I wondered if I was doing the right thing because there were other people that seemed so more much passionate than I was - and then I'd go: but what else would I do? This is all I've ever seriously considered.  (Well, other than writing, but that's another story for another time.)  I'd looked into personal training and group fitness, but I was always to scared to fail.  That people would be like, she has no idea what she's doing, she's not as good as that other teacher, she doesn't look good enough in those clothes - what is she thinking?! And then of course there was that super obnoxious voice that drowned out everything else and won out every time - that's not a career.  You can't make enough money doing it.  It's always been there though, it's never gone away.  It was there when I got offered a job teaching full time ballroom dancing when I was 18 years old, and I turned it away because I need to be in college.  That's what I was supposed to do. There were other factors, but they're even less important..  It was there when I worked at Bally's when I was 21, and started the process of becoming a personal trainer by request, and I walked away from it because I just knew I would fail.  How many times have you walked away from something that you just knew was your calling? 

Don't get me wrong, I loved teaching.  But I didn't love it the way that some of my dear friends love it.  I worked hard and I worked late and I pushed myself to my limits to be the best I could be, but I was also (unknowingly) forcing myself to fit into a hole that was just a little off.  Do I love education? Yes.  Do I love kids? Double yes.  Was I good at it? Did I have the potential to be great? I believe I was and that I did. But I just didn't want it enough at the end of the day.  There were always other things I wanted more.  Teaching all the different grade levels I taught throughout the years were the worlds biggest blessing to me - I met kids I don't stop thinking about, wondering what they're doing with their lives, who they've evolving into.  I had amazing conversations with little people that astounded me on a daily basis.  I got to share my vivacious love of reading every.single.day.  I had my biggest struggles, but the most amazing class I could have ever asked for the last year I taught - I will always hold third grade and that specific class near and dear to my heart. That was the year that I stopped caring about all the "rules" and pleasing people and literally just taught to my hearts content - and I was the happiest I have ever been teaching.  It was also the year I found out I was going to me a mom.  There are so many positives that teaching brought to my life, I can't even count them all.  But I truly believe it was a stepping stone to who I really want to be.  :)  

Jumping into the fitness industry the way that I did back in January was so far out of my comfort zone it was unreal.  It's been a crazy journey in so many ways, and one that's forever changed my life.  I feel better than I think I've ever felt.  I've learned just how important it is to know what we are feeding our bodies, and it wasn't in a way I'd ever expect.  That December day that we sat in the nutritionists office after our daughter had been officially diagnosed as MSPI (milk/soy protein intolerant) I just felt something click.  I looked at my husband as we walked out of the building to our car, my life forever changed, and said "I want to do this. I could see myself doing this - teaching others about how important it is what we eat... It's important that people know."  

I've grappled and tried to find my footing - my dreams were literally too big for me to handle when I started.  I had too much I wanted to accomplish all at once! I've dealt with economic stress with our family, and with others.  I've struggled through the fog of post-partum depression - although I didn't know that was the cause of most of my issues until I happened upon an article that explained how I felt to a "t", and suddenly it was so nice to have a name for my emotions and what I was going through.  And here I am, almost 9 months after I began, and it's all finally starting to click.  Things are lining up for me in a way that I never knew they could, and I'm so excited I can't even put it into words!! Don't ever let go of your dreams. Don't let your fears hold you back.  If you dream it, you can do it.  Why not? The only person holding you back (if you really take the time to look) is you.   The people that really matter in your life, will support you all the way.  

A Different Type of Thankful Thursday

I've been chewing for a few days about what exactly I wanted to say in this particular blog post.  I posted a picture almost a week ago that got more response than I expected, by a long shot! And it's been heavy on my heart ever since.

See, I've never been the type to be outspoken or confrontational.  While as a kid I always loved being the center of attention, the thought slightly terrifies me as an adult.  However, when something is tugging this strongly at my heartstrings and I know it's a subject many women don't talk about and struggle with, I'm speaking out.

I was just being honest when I posted this picture.  Real girls aren't perfect.  I've said from the get go of becoming a Beachbody coach - I'm all about keeping it real.  I signed up to do this yes, a way to gain some financial freedom, to make some money for myself instead of using my husbands paycheck {I know all you stay at home mamas understand what I'm saying here}, but more importantly to make a difference in people's lives.  As a stepping stone to do what I finally realize I really want to truly do - what I'm totally and completely on fire about.  To show people that no matter who you are, or where you come from, you can do this.  In the words of sweet Aibileen: You is kind.  You is smart.  You is important. And I'm throwing one last statement in there: You is beautiful.   

When I got pregnant with our first child, that 15+ year old insecurity of my physical appearance reared it's ugly head with a vengeance.  I can't even tell you how many tears I shed over the fear of stretch marks, then later over the stretch marks themselves.  How I might never look "the same" again.  How I felt sitting next to my 23 year old {I was 29 at the time} friend that was a good 50 pounds lighter than I was, with "perfect" skin and no fear of strutting her stuff in an itty bitty bikini.  And I felt like a beached whale.  I literally cried to my husband that I didn't understand how he could still find me beautiful and sexy, when all I could see were mounds of imperfections.  Extra skin left from pregnancy, stretch marks, discolorations... I mean, let's be real, it's a bit traumatic to the system.  Especially when you use all the lotions that claim to keep stretch marks away and instead of this beautiful "perfect" belly like Tori Spelling, you end up with exactly what you were trying to avoid in the first place... I hadn't quite figured it out that pregnant bellies are beautiful.  I embraced it much more the second time around.

I went from ~128 to 174 with my first pregnancy {Aug '11 in the picture on the left}, and ~118 to 158 with my second {Oct '13 on the right}.  Believe me when I say that I gained my fair share of weight with both babies! :)

I wish I could tell you the exact moment that it clicked in my brain how silly it all was.  I wish I could say that the hundreds of times that my husband held me while I sobbed {during and immediately after pregnancy}and whispered sweet reassurances that I'd just had his baby and I needed to realize what I'd just accomplished and was beautiful to him no matter what I thought I saw in the mirror, actually clicked.  Don't get me wrong, those words helped, but that wasn't what knocked me completely off my high horse.

It was my son.  I've looked at him in utter amazement and wonderment so many times I lost count the first month of his life...and I've done so millions and trillions of time since... but my thoughts every time that I gazed at him were like a record on repeat: We made this tiny little miracle.  I carried him, and grew him, and gave him life.  ME.  The further that sunk in, the more I began to realize how incredibly selfish I was being about my body.  Those stretch marks, the ones that covered my butt, hips, thighs, around my knees, boobs, and especially my stomach - those were proof that my body had accommodated this tiny little person.  It had been his home, his safe haven, his life source.  Those stretch marks were what made me a mama.

There was another thought that popped into my head as well: how ridiculous was I being about these badges of honor {if you will}, when there are women all over the world that can't get pregnant? Had I ever stopped to realize how many women would love to be covered in stretch marks, just so that they could carry their own baby? That one stung.  Bad.  We all are inherently selfish by nature, we're all sinners, so it shouldn't have felt like such a slap in the face to realize how childishly selfish I had been about how I looked, but it did.  And I was.

How ridiculous is it that we - women in general, not just mamas - have fallen into the trap that society has set for us? That we have to look a certain way in order to be beautiful...?  Those models that we are constantly comparing ourselves to are airbrushed.  They aren't real.  And no offense, but I don't want to look that thin. I want tone, I want definition, I want to look and be strong.  I want to be healthy outside and in.  I want to be someone that my daughter can look up to.  

I stumbled upon this beauty one night {or should I say early morning?} when I was having a nursing session with my first... and literally wept with how it made me feel.  It was absolutely what I needed to hear/see at the time, and has stuck with me ever since.  I saved it on my phone, and looked at it every single time I felt down to give myself a reality check.  Kinda like, I am woman, hear me roar! {Cue: Katy Perry's Roar, haha!}  

I'd be lying if I said I didn't still have bouts of insecurity - how I still have this baby pooch, or the way my extra skin wrinkles when I bend over or do crunches, or how my boobs are not as perky as they once were due to two bouts of breastfeeding {haha!}... but they're incredibly short lived.  Fleeting moments that I wrestle with like every other woman out there.  Now, not only have I completely embraced my mama body, I'm working with it, instead of against it.  

And then I look at my two little precious miracles, and laugh at myself... and I'm thankful for every little imperfection that I earned by becoming their mama.