It Ain't Luck

A friend of mine had posted a meme on her Facebook page that said, "It isn't luck, you have no idea how hard I prayed for this." And it really got me thinking.

I'm a spiritual person, but not necessarily a religious one. However, the way I interpreted the quote was, "I'm not lucky, you have no idea how hard I've worked for this." Now, think about that for a minute.

Very serious thinking face.

I hear so often people say, "Wow, you're so lucky... blah blah blah," and now thinking about it, I realize how unfair that statement really is. To project that luck is the root cause for success negates the time, effort, sacrifice, dedication, etc that the achievement actually took. People mean the statement as a compliment, but in fact, it is anything but.

My parents have worked hard their whole lives. I mean, hard. They're still working hard. Long hours. Crazy commutes. Dangerous situations, at times. My father, a retired Federal Agent, was part of the response team for 9/11, was part of the response team for the Anthrax attack in NYC and in Hamilton, NJ, was part of the response team for Hurricane Katrina. He worked on the Unibomber case. He led Special Entry task forces to enter into dangerous territories for drug busts and other felonious crimes.  And my mom is the Vice President of a large hospital. But the job wasn't handed to her, she worked her way up from a part time Respiratory Therapist. She worked her way up the corporate ladder from the bottom, even beyond her own education, forcing her to work, not only a full work week well beyond 40 hours, but to pursue her Masters Degree at night. She's battled fierce weather to be at the hospital to make sure it is properly staffed with an administrator-on-call. She's responsible for the construction of a brand new hospital for when hers was taken over in a merger. She was also the only administrator that the new Board kept on staff. Long story short, my parents personify hard work.

The reason I went through that very long explanation is because we are blessed with some very nice things in our lives. We have a beautiful home, we've taken some amazing vacations, we all have cars, and food, and you know, stuff. And I now realize how offensive it is to presume that it was luck that brought all of these things to us. My parents have worked their asses off for what they have. They have earned every dollar. They are generous and share their things and their lives with their family and friends. Even more than money, my parents have invested in their relationship with one another (they've been together since they're 14 - I know, madness right?) and invested time and love into our family, which is the greatest blessing of them all.

Long story short, it isn't luck. It's hard work. It's sacrifice. It's so much more than serendipity or fate. You make your own luck. You make your own fate. I just wish more people would be cognizant of this idea and maybe jealousy wouldn't be running so rampant. Or maybe it would, I don't know. But I'd like to imagine that if people really took a minute to consider what it takes to have a good life, a stable job, and a solid family life, they'd realize that these aren't usually things that people are handed. And if they are, they are very rarely held on to for long without hard work. So think about that next time you're thinking that "the grass is greener on the other side," - maybe that grass isn't growing in green on its own. Maybe the owner of the other side is meticulously caring for that lawn beyond what you can see.

Silenced by My Own Anti-Feminism Conditioning

I've been thinking about writing this post for awhile. But to be honest, I'm a little ashamed to say these things out loud. I've always considered myself a fiercely independent, relatively intelligent woman, and my inability to speak up for myself diminishes both of those characteristics: the two characteristics by which I most greatly define who I am. It's counterintuitive to possess both a fierce independence, which hinges a lot of the time on not caring what others think, and the inability to stand up for myself when the situation warrants it. This lack of voice weakens me and, to be honest, frustrates the shit out of me. And I'll tell you why (beyond the obvious).

I grew up with mostly guy friends. Throughout middle school, when girls cared about makeup and flirting with boys, I just didn't. I, conversely, was in the trenches, so to speak, spending my afternoons with my guy friends picking through muddy streams looking for tadpoles or playing an all-afternoon game of capture the flag. I played in the dirt. I rough-housed. I wasn't afraid.

But growing up like this made me want to avoid being girly at all costs, because if I was 'girly' then I wouldn't fit in with the guys anymore. And then where would I be? This fear of being 'girly' stayed with me throughout high school, through out college, and still plagues me today.

Funnily enough, on the outside, you'd think I was plenty girly. I brush my hair (thank god, that shit would be chaos!). I work as a makeup artist - and I LOVE makeup now. I get dressed up when the situation warrants it. I do 'girly' things. But still in the back of my mind lingers a voice that says, "don't be such a girl" and "hey you, watch out, your 'girly' is showing!"

Being a girl in my mind is synonymous with being dramatic. Blowing things out of proportion. Making a lotta something outta nothing. Making a situation all about her. (These are really uncool stereotypes, I KNOW!) But I fought for so long to not be a girl in that respect. To just keep the peace and let things roll, you know, the way guys do. I never wanted to make waves or stand out in anyway among my guy friends. It was like I was getting away with a secret and maybe, if I kept quiet for long enough, they wouldn't realize that there was a stranger in their midsts. I was an incredible double agent. So good in fact, that I think I even fooled myself.

This silence has bled into almost all forums of my life. If someone hurts me, or offends me, or does wrong by me, I usually say nothing. I don't want to be 'blowing things out of proportion'. I don't want to be uncharacteristically 'dramatic'. I usually just keep the hurt to myself, sweep it neatly under the rug. And let me tell you, there's a mountain of shit under that rug by now. It isn't healthy; I know this. But it's been years of conditioning and I'm not sure how to change it.

It's funny because my mom is outspoken. So are my sisters. And at times their brazenness has embarrassed me. But most times, I'm jealous. They have no trouble being honest and speaking up for themselves. They have no qualms about respecting themselves and their opinions enough to say what they need to say, to whom they need to say it, when it needs to be said. And that, to me, is amazing.

The guy I most recently was dating was/is kind of a dick. He wasn't always. Or maybe he was. But there was something about him that I loved. A rawness. A realness. He was never afraid. Or maybe he was always afraid. Shit, I don't know. We "dated" on an off for about three years and he was someone in my group of friends and it just morphed into something more. Long story short, there were moments when he was so great, but others when he was truly a dick. A straight up asshole. And I said nothing. And that upsets me more than anything. Even more than his behavior, the fact that I allowed it is nauseating. Who am I? Well, I fear I'm a hypocrite, because I would be the first one to identify if one of my friends was being mistreated and give her shit for not standing up for herself. I would say, "What are you nuts? You're worth more than this! You're awesome and he's a loser. Eff him!" I would tell her to pack it up and get the hell out. She's better than that. But here I am, three years later and I couldn't give myself the same pep talk.

We've been done for a while now, but we still share the same group of friends, so we still see each other, maybe more often than I'd like. In the end, he was the one who effed it up. He was the reason that we called it quits. (Not that I'm absolving myself of any blame, but without getting into it, he really effed up and then we were just done.) This past weekend I saw him, and he treated me like I had the plague. Treated me like I had wronged him. And I should have pulled him aside and ripped him a new one. But I never did that. Not even when we ended our relationship. He effed up and I let him walk. Without a word. And now, he still is aloof and disconnected. And I should have let him have it! A balls-to-the-walls, all out yelling, screaming bonanza. And I would have been completely in the right. But, once again, I didn't want to be that girl. The girl that 'ruined the party', the girl that was 'being dramatic', the one who 'probably has her period because she's being so emotional'. I had my chance - again - and again, I said nothing. WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH ME!?!

Since when did 'being a girl' get such a negative wrap? Obviously, I can identify that women are powerful. Smart. Sexy. I grew up with a mom who is all of those things. She exemplifies the type of woman that she wanted her daughters to become. And in a lot of ways, I feel like I've done her proud. But I can't un-silence myself, no matter how hard I try. For a woman with a voice, I can't speak up. It's not okay. Not for me. Not for any woman. To be made to feel like your opinions should be silenced, or that your emotions are too deep, that you feel too much, that you care too much, is bullshit. It's really an unfair double standard and I'm tired of it keeping me quiet.

I can't say that it will happen overnight, but I am going to make a more concerted effort to speak up. To speak out. For things that upset me. For injustices I witness. For anything I damn-well-please. Because my opinion matters just as much as anyone else's. And I'm tired of waiting for my turn to speak.

Weight Loss Really is a Battle

Weight loss: a battle where a person is standing on both sides of the fight
You become your own enemy - now how healthy is that?

No one wants to go to war. No one likes fighting. It's emotional. It's difficult. And in the end, there really are no winners.

I kinda feel that way with weight loss. It is a constant war, where I may win a battle or two, but the fight never ends. I know that's a depressing thought, but it just goes to show that the turmoil and struggle isn't only physical. Mentally, I feel defeated more often than my body does. My body is ready for more. My body can push harder during my workouts. My body isn't actually hungry for that extra serving. It's all in my head. And I'm not sure how to combat that kind of fight.

::Gasp:: Maybe THIS is what's goin on. 

Long story short, I have been working really hard since the end of February on losing some of the pounds I've gained. Since my big weight loss, I'm up to a number that's higher than ever. (Still nowhere near where I was thank god, but still higher than I should be!) I workout five days a week. I track my food intake. I try to avoid anything white - bread, rice, potatoes, sugar. I'm not perfect, but I have seriously cut down on my portions and am way more conscientious about what foods I am putting in my mouth. And I'm up six pounds from where I started in February. Now riddle me that?

My dad, who has been a fitness buff his whole life, says to ignore the scale. Focus on the measurements, which I take every Tuesday at my personally scheduled weigh in.  For accountability, I have been sending my weight and measurements every week to one of my best friends, who is a Beachbody coach. The inches have been decreasing. So obviously, that's a victory. Then what's with the scale? I know I shouldn't be caught up in the numbers, but I'm working hard, I'm giving it time (it's been about two months!), and still the scale isn't reflecting any sort of loss? It doesn't make sense.

I can get behind the fact that my inches are shrinking and that the weight gain may be increased muscle, since I have incorporated strength training into my workout routine. But mentally, that number on the scale defeats me. I feel defeated, in spite of the fact that I feel healthier. I am able to run on the arc trainer for a straight 40 minutes at max speed and not be a complete wheezy mess. I see that there are parts of my body that look smaller and more fit. Yet, I still feel like I'm losing this battle. A battle that I will face my entire life.

It's exhausting. I don't want the numbers and the perceived defeat to derail me. These are lifestyle changes. There is no temporary fix. I don't love working out, but I love the way it makes me feel stronger and more capable. I don't love giving up bread and pasta, but generally, I don't miss it after a while. (However, pizza is my weakness and I'm never giving that shit up. Done and done.) I don't love having to worry about what I eat and scheduling in a workout everyday, but it's become who I am and that's the cross I have to bear.

I just wish that I could exercise and strengthen the mind the same way. I don't want to care about the numbers. But I do. I don't want to worry about the scale and the weigh-ins. But I do. And I don't want to get myself into a funk every time the scale reads a number I don't like.
But alas, here I am, funkin' it up.

Eight Awesome Ways to Commemorate a Trip

    As this blog would indicate, I am a super big fan of traveling. And I am always brainstorming new ways to commemorate my travels because they are something I never want to forget. I need to have constant reminders of how lucky I have been to have had the opportunity to go to some of the places I've been and how blessed I am to have met all of the people I have throughout the years. These are the beautiful moments that have defined my life and I don't want to ever forget a single minute.
     So this is what I've come up with. I'll try to add more if I come up with anything new. And please feel free to leave a comment and share some of your ideas! I'd love to hear'em!

1. Journal
This idea always sounds so daunting, but trust me it is so worth it. I loved keeping my travel log on this blog. I felt like blogging and typing it out was more efficient and it enabled me to really keep up on my daily activities without the painstaking task of handwriting everything down (and condemning myself for my horrible handwriting!). I'm actually super impressed that I maintained my journaling throughout my entire stay in London and for all of my auxiliary trips. It is something that I often look back on, with a heavy sense of nostalgia, and am grateful for my meticulous accounts of my adventures.

2. Soundtrack
I love either making a soundtrack (or a playlist) for a trip before hand or even making one afterward of songs that you listened to while there or songs that remind you of the place you went. I swear to God, Destiny's Child's "Writings on the Wall" will forever remind me of my trip to Florida when I was sixteen. Even to this day, I hear "Bills, Bills, Bills" and can smell the sea air and feel the wind blowing through my hair as we cruised down 75 in my cousin's beat-up Sentra.
      I had so many friends notice that as I walked around London I always had in my earbuds and they would ask what I was listening to. Usually it was always Mumford & Sons, OneRepublic, Imagine Dragons, The Lumineers, The Fray, etc. And now there are certain songs that when I hear them I am immediately zapped back to Regent Street, or Hyde Park, or Portobello Market. It's comforting - almost like bringing home a little piece of my trip that I can play on repeat.

3. Christmas Ornament - Idea #1: Trinket Ornament
This has been a tradition in my family for as long as I can remember. I'll try to take some pictures of the ones I have and post them - but all the Christmas stuff is buried, so it may take me some time. Anyway, I usually look to see if I can find an actual Christmas ornament for sale (but sometimes they're ugly or cheesy or crazy pricey!) so instead I look for small trinkets that either already have a string or loop, or something I can place some ribbon onto so that I can hang it. For instance, I couldn't find an ornament in Amsterdam so I bought a pair of miniature wooden clogs that said Amsterdam on them and were connected by a ribbon and bought those! I just drape them over a branch on the tree. Most important part: if it doesn't have it marked on it already, you MUST mark the name of the place and the year that you went. I have a few from Paris and London (different years of course), a few from different places in Florida (Orlando, Key West, Naples). I love looking at my Christmas tree and recalling that how I'm not only blessed during the Christmas season, but have been blessed throughout my life with some pretty awesome travel experiences and the memories that accompany them.

4. Christmas Ornament - Idea #2: Map Ornament
I've never done this, but I did something similar for my cousin with her wedding invitation when she got married so I think that you could do the same thing. Take the document (ie: wedding invitation or map of a place or a paper restaurant menu or some other paper memorabilia from that place and cut it into strips about 1/4-1/3 of an inch thick. Or to a thickness of your liking. I then bought empty clear plastic Christmas balls (you can buy them at any craft store), I curled the individual strips around a pencil until them spiraled, and then I placed a few in the ball. Don't shove'em all in there if you have a ton, just enough to give it a festive feel. Then I put a little 3D glitter in there and some tiny silver star cut-outs, put the topper back on it and tied a ribbon into a nice bow around the top. And lastly, as always, I inscribed it with words. For travel, put the place and the year. For the wedding invitation, I put the couple's names and the year or you can put so-and-so's first christmas and the year. Just be sure to get someone who has decent handwriting, and write it in permanent marker.

5. Pictures Calendar - I think that we would all be lucky to be able to take one awesome trip a year and what a way to remember that trip throughout the (next) year (and also get yourself super psyched for your next trip) than you create a calendar of your 12 best vacation photos (or more if you do a collage style printing). Not only is it a practical item that can take up residence on your kitchen or your office wall to help you remember what day it is amidst your busy life, but it is an opportunity for you to look at some of your best memories on a daily basis.

6. Postcards - Of course, postcards! Duh! Postcards seem like they may be too basic, but they actually are a traditional and simple way to remember all of the amazing places you've visited. I've even seen people buy a handful of postcards at the beginning of their trip and keep their daily journal entries on the back of a card per day. Then you can either put the cards in page protectors in a binder or use a index card ring to keep them together. I've even see people decoupage their postcards onto coffee tables and things. That could be really awesome!

7. Tattoo - This (clearly) is not an option for everyone. Nor would I say that this is an option for every trip you take. But every once in a while you take a trip that changes you. (For me, it was London. Obviously.) And a tattoo is an unparalleled way to carry a piece of that life-altering experience with you forever.  I'll show you the tattoo I hope to be getting soon and a few others that I think are kind of awesome!

This is the tattoo I want on my ribcage. Soon, kids. Soon.
(Btw, that's the London skyline, just in case you didn't know.)

8. Photobook - These so far have been one of my personal favorite ways to commemorate a trip. I have made a Shutterfly book for pretty much every country I've been to. Sometimes I type up my journal entries into the photobook for a really awesome picture diary. The best part about these photobook companies and websites are how easy they are to use! I don't really consider myself to be the most technologically savvy individual, but even I have had wild success with uploading and maneuvering my pictures around to create really professional looking products. As I said, I use Shutterfly, but there are a ton of possible sites like Snapfish or Photobucket, etc. The thing I love about Shutterfly is that they offer Groupons all the time. (If you don't know what Groupon is, dear lord, get on board! Just click the link and view so many great deals for goods and local activities/restaurants... so great.) So as I said, I have bought like six Groupons for Shutterfly books at like only $10 a book! There is a minimal shipping fee, but overall, you can have an amazing photobook for less than $20. How can you beat that?

So that's all I have so far... I'll keep you posted if I come up with any new ideas! Happy travels!

21 Day Fix - Day 18 - Making Habits

They say it takes 21 days to make or break a habit. Now, I don't know if it's true, since I feel that the word 'habit' by nature is more intrinsic, more automatic, than something that is only done for 21 days. But hey, it's a start. Maybe it's the hump you need to get over so that it's a habit that you can make - does that make sense? Like it's difficult to stick to something for 21 days, but if you do, you're likely to continue it. I don't know, but either way, I feel like this healthy lifestyle thing is something that I should be able to stick with for a while. Generally, I don't feel deprived. I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything. And if an event or food item begs to be indulged in, then by God, indulge I will. It just won't be the norm anymore; the crap food that tastes amazing but is a bitch to work off will have to be the exception.

I'm pretty excited about my progress. When I weighed in at the beginning of the week, I recorded that I am down 3.6 pounds (which doesn't seem like much, but it's only been two weeks!) and down 9" overall. That's crazy! So not only am I getting leaner, I'm building muscle. I can't see it. I can feel it. And that makes the hard work worth it.

I know that I'm not going to be finished after 21 days. I'll continue until I get to my goal weight, and maybe even after. But truth be told, I think that my key to success this go-around has been the accountability group that I belong to on Facebook. There are about 100 people who were invited into it and we are all doing the program together. On the page, we share successes, failures, concerns, recipes, workout pictures, and motivation. At first it was annoying to have the constant alerts from strangers, but it keeps it present in my mind at all times. When I hear that 'ding', it's almost like a Pavlovian response that resets my brain to focus on healthy choices.

I can't say that I can't do it alone. I have before. But it sure as hell is easier when you have a friend, a buddy, and/or a support system to keep you going. To encourage you when things get tough. To remind you that shit happens and that we are all going to flub up and that's it's okay.

21 Day Fix - Day 10 - A Mistake Ain't the End of the World

I know I skipped a lot of days of blogging, but really, it's because there isn't all that much to report. I'm sticking to the plan. I'm working out most days a week. I shoot for a goal of five out of seven. If I can do all seven then awesome, but I feel like five is fair amidst my teaching schedule and you know, life.

Photo credit: http://mealandaspiel.com/

In general, I'm feeling really great! I have noticed that my appetite has decreased. I don't crave the crap food as much any more. And I am seeing a difference when I weigh and measure myself, which is encouraging! I won't say I haven't "slipped up' because I have - I'm human. But I want to try to reprogram my brain to not think of these moments so negatively. It's just a part of life for god's sake. I mean, I don't want to live in a world where I can't have a bite of cake every once in a while. That, my friends, ain't a life worth livin'.  

And I think that the way we perceive these so called 'cheat' meals can be really harmful to our psyche. We eat something that off the plan and maybe not so good for us and we instantly feel a sense of overwhelming guilt. We feel like failures. And that feeling sucks! For many of us, eating has emotional roots, so to be overcome with such a sense of defeat can actually trigger more harmful and binge-like behavior. It's a vicious cycle based on a warped mentality. And it takes time, work, and constant effort to work on it.

I went to a nutritionist/support group/behavior health study thing at Drexel University. In fact, it's sort of what kicked off this whole weight loss journey five years ago. It was orchestrated through their psychology department, not medical school. (How interesting, right?) And the study focused on behavior modifications - how to build and deconstruct both good and bad habits, how to rewire your brain to think about exercise and nutrition, etc. It wasn't a miracle cure. There weren't any magical electrodes or shock therapy or brainwashing. It was just common sense strategies that we could implement in our everyday lives to help us make better choices. The weight loss element of it was based on good ole-fashioned calorie counting and exercise. Ain't no other way to do it. Tracking input vs output and working on how to make time for physical activity. We also had a one hour meeting to discuss obstacles and difficulties, as well as successes of our week.

The reason I bring this VERY LONG story up is because our group leader said some really great things that really stuck with me long after our meetings were over. The first is that if you have a 'cheat meal' - if you go bananas and stuff your face with chocolate covered bacon topped Belgian waffles or something equally as delicious yet devastating calorically - most people think, "Well, I effed up my day, I might as well just say screw it and eat whatever I want and then just start over again tomorrow." This, I have learned even though I am SO GUILTY of it myself, is detrimental to success. There is no reason to that we can't identify that the waffle wasn't the best choice, but with the very next thing you eat, make a better one. Try to make up for it by eating better things for the rest of the day and then you don't set yourself behind as far as you would if you just go balls-to-the-walls and eat everything in sight. Starting over is hard because every time you start over you're reminded that you quit. You messed up. It's psychologically debilitating.

I know that this weight loss journey is a journey for life. It doesn't matter that I lost 100 pounds, that I gained a few back, that I'm working to maintain my weight and all the good habits that I worked so hard to form way back when. The past, oddly enough, doesn't matter. It's all about the present. The choices that I make right here, right now. These choices, these habits, are now a part of my every day life. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't have to think about the things that I eat and the kind of effect they will have on my body and my health. However, if I am going to make such an effort to improve my body, then I might as well, while I'm at it, make an equal effort to improve my mind and my self-confidence. I don't think that they need to be mutually exclusive. I feel like being overweight my whole life has been psychologically damaging. It has left scars that I'm not sure will ever heal. But it's also made me a stronger person. I have had to face and overcome a lot and every step of that journey has made me the woman that I am today. A woman I am pretty proud to be.

So here's to not beating ourselves up over making mistakes. We're human, it's gonna happen. (If it doesn't you might be an andriod!) Life is hard, but maybe if we learn to take these mistakes in stride, they damage won't be as everlasting.

21 Day Fix - Day Two

The happy face of a girl whose finished her workout!

I thought I'd be waaaay more sore today. In fact, yesterday I told one of the girls in the accountability group, "Not gonna lie: the thought of [working out] again tomorrow, in spite of the debilitating soreness, kinda makes me wanna cry. But as the great Taylor Swift once said, we're gonna 'Shake it Off' and kick it's ass - even if it's in slow motion." But it's not as bad as it's been in the past, which is awesome.  

Today's workout: Upper Body Fix. So my arms might be jello tomorrow... we'll see. Actually, there isn't much to report for today. Thankfully I'm not all that hungry, which is good, and that has helped to stay on track with the eating part. 

The reason for this post and the main theme of this entry today is to explain a revelation that I had today during the second round of my circle crunches (which, by the way, suck!): and it is that NO ONE IS GOING TO DO THIS FOR ME. I can quit. I can slack off. I can lie. I can phone it in. But no one benefits or suffers from half-assing it except for me. I mean, I was giving it my all today during my workout, but when it was getting hard, it was that thought that pushed me through it. 

I've been overweight my whole life. When I was growing up, my parents used to try to encourage me to exercise more and eat the right things (etc) right through my teen years and straight into my 20s. It wasn't until I was ready to do it on my own that things began to change. I had to not only want it for myself, I had to want to fight for it, in spite of the difficulties and struggles. 

And I am so grateful that I finally had that epiphany. I wish I would have had it sooner. But everything happens for a reason and everything happens when it's supposed to happen, so I live with no regrets. But bottom line: this is my battle, and I'm in it to win it.