People are So Good

When mid March of 2020 rolled around, the Bay Area began Shelter In Place.  Initially, it felt like a weird "break" from normalcy. But the longer it continued, we realized life as we knew it would never be the same again.  Toilet paper was a hot commodity, and the news update was our touchstone.  There were "runs" in grocery stores on rice and beans, and it began to feel like end of days.  

A few weeks in, one of the people whom I love most in this world, Julia Blom, showed up in my driveway, and explained through tear rimmed eyes, "We had to close our restaurant." Rain bounced off the windshield, as I climbed into the passenger seat with her.  With the car still running, and we both sobbed.  She raged, I listened.  Her backseat filled with food to drop off to others, because even when she had lost what seemed like everything, she wanted to be of service.  

I bet you have a friend like this too.

Next, kids were no longer allowed to attend school.  Everyone had a different response based on circumstance.  Luckily, Tom and I have three older daughters who can manage themselves, and flexibility in our schedules to help our younger girls, Cosette and Charlotte if needed. But how would working parents juggle this? Our neighbors have FOUR children, a fifth grader, fourth grader, second grader, and Kindergartner.  She and her husband both worked continuously from home.  

When I thought I was having a rough day, I would just look over the fence, and check myself.  

My biggest concern with the social distancing with the kids was their emotional well-being.  It is difficult enough for adults walk through this: our littles, tweens, teens, and young adults NEED each other.  They need their parents, sure. But they need their peers in so many ways, more. 

Rent, mortgages, and bills still needed to be paid.  Folks continued to work from home.  Until, some,  were not allowed to anymore.  

On their way to a job, Tom's crew was pulled over by police on the freeway, and told to go home. That continued for seven weeks.

I started to panic: my anxiety pulled me back into the recession of 2008 when we filed for bankruptcy, and didn't know if we would keep our home.  For over a decade, we worked diligently to NEVER be in that position again.  We executed a tight budget, with little wiggle room, and made it. 

And yet, here we were: no income for almost two months.  During a family meeting, we explained to our daughters, that the college money we set aside for them, the funds we ensured were theirs for tuition, may need to be used for our mortgage.  They listened, not quite fully comprehending, but also understanding that none of us could have ever prepared for the mind-fuck of a Global Pandemic.  

Folks started to bring us food.  Buying groceries for someone other than yourself, is such an intimate act: it makes you decide things like "Which type of bread would they prefer: wheat or white?  2% milk or 1% milk? Organic eggs or not?  Tortilla chips or Ruffles?"  It is an act of generosity and beauty all rolled into one.  Each time a new drop would appear on the porch, our family felt so incredibly loved and held.

Little envelopes with cash inside mysteriously showed up on our doorstep.  Generous gifts to our family that were never expected to be repaid.  People wanted to love and support us, and what we needed to do to honor that, was to receive with open hands.  It was incredibly humbling.

Spirit gave me a clear message that I was to pivot to online in Village Well with a gig called The Self Love Project.  I arm wrestled God...I bantered, shaking my fist, saying "No one wants a PROJECT right now.  We are in self preservation mode!" Stomp. Sigh. Huff and Puff. 

Finally, I digressed, and asked 6 friends to step into the sacred space of gathering women to heal and restore with me.  Without hesitation, they said yes, expecting absolutely nothing in return.  Self Love Project bought groceries for our family of 7 for 7 weeks. 

Fast forward, Self Love is scheduled with a new teacher every week from now until May 2021.  You can't tell me God's not in the details.

Yet, our mortgage went unpaid for 3 months.  Although my husband was unable to work, the bank expected us to pay this debt in full.  Unbelievably, within one month of returning to work, we earned enough income to pay this looming amount of money in full.  Yet, another miracle.

After learning that, like so many folks, we had to cancel our trip to Hawaii (which would have been the first time our entire family would  have been on a plane together), my generous friend, Carrie, invited us to use their home in Oregon.  What a gift.  Time away in nature, and away from the monotony we have been walking through for close to 6 months.  Another blessing.

Our three oldest daughters, worked at Athena Camps this summer, full time.  They had jobs.  We rejoiced, not just for them, but the founder, Aby Ryan, who is a god damn warrior and made that happen!  The girls socked away money for college, and online shopping :)

So here we are, alongside you: grappling with distance learning, fires, social injustice, while trudging through this marathon known as the Pandemic. Oh, and let's not forget there is an election on the horizon. 

Our oldest daughters, Abby and Bella, have moved away to colleges, sight unseen, and have begun classes.  Independently, they both moved themselves: one purchasing a one way plane ticket to Wisconsin, the other driving herself to Irvine.  They also set up financial obligations regarding tuition, to ensure they could each move forward on their paths.  

Did I agree with these decisions? Heck no! Does it go against my primal instinct to protect my cubs from all harm? Yes. 

But these are the type of young people who are going to pull us out of this Pandemic shitstorm.

Emma is working as a nanny, while she prepares to begin classes at De Anza in just a few weeks.  And Cosette, will be attending NDSJ.  Charlotte is plugging along, and really looks forward to her once a week play dates with friends.  

This Pandemic has taught us this: we were created to be both givers and receivers, to lean into those people who love and support you. 

We don't have to be strong all the time.  That's why we take turns. 

So go ahead, if you're feeling tired...lean on me.  Today, I'm feeling good.  Tomorrow, it will be your turn to hold me up, and I'll be ready for you.

Low Standards and High Hopes

Like many, as we begin week 3 of Shelter in Place, it feels like Groundhog Day.  We are left to make our own flexible routines, but still grasping to feel somewhat productive.  This is what I have realized:

1. A loose routine works for our family.  I have learned to leave in the morning to hit the trail, releasing any expectations I have of my children. I realize that Tom and I have laid the foundation, and at this point, we need to trust that these 5 girls will be responsible to navigate this new norm without micro-managing them. We have a few standards, but they are rather low at this point.  For example, Charlie's are: Brush hair and don clean underwear. These low expectations ensure everyone feels like a winner:) 

2.  We are walking through grief, not only as individuals, but as family units, within our communities, as a nation, and as an entire world.  Our lives have been stripped of all non-essentials, and left us with ample time to ruminate of what could have been.  What should have been.  I allow myself to dabble in the grief, feel it, and then move through it.  I know that if I stuff the dark cloud of despair and helplessness, this beast will manifest in my body in an unhealthy way.  And so the ugly cry serves as a release.  And sometimes, so does vodka.

3.  Self care is non-negotiable.  For me, that is daily meditation and prayer, moving in nature, and getting enough rest.  Giving myself permission to take care of me first, allows me space to walk with Emma, a Senior, who will most likely not have a Prom or graduation ceremony.  It gives space for Abby to vent about how her college has cut all athletic funding, and she has lost her athletic scholarship.  She is now looking for a new university to land in the fall.  And Bella, who is struggling with where she will go to school next year.  And Cozy...and Charlie...and Tom.

4. I am trying to remain grateful, but at times, it is difficult.  It is then I am reminded, we have our health, our steadfast faith, that our tribe is messy but united, and I know I am being molded to be of service to others.  It is then, I exhale, and say, "We are okay."

We can do this, but it will have to be together.  The irony is that social distancing is keeping us physically apart.  But you see, we are connected on a soul level. 

And nothing, not even the god damn COVID 19 can take that away.

If you are feeling lost, depleted, or without direction, please reach out to me at myvillagewell@gmail.com

You are not alone, dear one.

Life During Lock Down

Well guys, there is just no way around it: life for all of us has literally changed overnight.  As we have walked through week one of Shelter in Place, and are beginning week 2, I have made some interesting observations.

1.  A Family Meeting saved us from killing each other.  You may want to circle back on week 3 to see who's still standing, but currently, we are moving around one another is a somewhat respectable manner.  Tom and I asked the girls:

What are the silver linings you are seeing in one another right now?
What is working for you, and where do you need more support from us, as your family?
What does having a Routine/Schedule look like for you now?

Their insight was spot on, and I highly recommend setting the time aside to do this.

2.  Tom and I lost our shit in front of our kids before online church.  True story.  We agreed to gather as a family and "go to Mass" in our living room on Sunday at 6 pm, which is the regular time it starts.  Except this time, when we started, Tom was upstairs.

The conversation sort of went as follows:
Tom: "Why did you start without me?  This feels disrespectful."
Me: "We said we would start at 6 pm.  But when I mentioned this, you went upstairs to do 'work stuff'.  I felt like you dismissed me, which also felt disrespectful." 
Both of us: "Oh...so we both felt the same thing."
Me: "Moving forward I think it's important that we all know what time we will gather for church on Sunday."
All: "Sunday at 6 works."
Girls: "Are we gonna do church now?"

Our best moment as a married couple? No.  A real moment as a married couple? Yes.  

3.  I have witnessed more people running in the hood than ever before. Considering it is definitely different than running on a treadmill, I would like to give you big kudos! Elbow bump.

4.  Bella gave Cosette a haircut and took 10 inches off.  It looks cute.  But the good news is that if shit went sideways: Cosette would have many weeks of isolation to grow it out.  Emma led a Yoga class in our backyard for her sisters.  Charlie has taken to writing notes and leaving them on the porch of our neighbors, who also have young kids.  They are doing sort of a ding dong pen pal dash exchange. It's really sweet. 

5. I have given myself permission to create a routine that may look different than it used to, and that's okay.  And I hope you are giving yourself the same grace.  Being in one space with our tribe has been both challenging and rewarding.  The home has been filled with more laughter and shenanigans in the last week, than the last year in its entirety.  

And although things are most definitely uncertain, I know it my heart, we are okay. Not we are going to be okay.  But spoken in present ...we are okay.  

New Panties

I just purchased $100 worth of new underwear.  I wanted the free shipping from Nordstrom Rack.  Now you know what my 16 pairs of panties look like.  

Because like many women, I have neglected to buy myself new undergarments for longer than I care to admit.  

I have been donning the same big, ol' grandma thong panties for more than a bit of time now.  Comfy, stretchy lace sides that don't ride up, and hug my mama muffin belly just so. 

Yet still make me feel like I haven't completely surrendered to my age.  

Like...look at me...not giving up completely.  Truth be told, no one is looking,  at anything.  Unless you count Tom :)

And so it seems that for months I have known I needed new underwear.  But by the same token, apparently had no problem sliding on stretched out undies that had holes in the them. 

Because the alternative was: Stop my life.  Research where to find the SAME panties.  Pay for said panties. 

It was then, I realized a central theme running rampant in the lives of not just me, but many women.   

Just the week before, while discussing victories for the week with friends, one sister mentioned she was proud of herself for purchasing new bras. We simultaneously cheered for her newly supported breasts!  

Another friend confessed she finally got to the Ob/Gyn appointment she had been putting off. Yet another WIN for a busy woman taking care of so many other people in her realm. 

And yet another friend, pulled the trigger on paying for and joining the YMCA. As she told me about getting into the pool for the first time in forever, she was filled with a childlike giddiness.  She almost elevated off the couch. 

We give and give, and yet, often don't give ourselves permission to buy new underwear, or bras, or get our very private areas checked, or pay money to join a gym.  

But see, it is a lot of work being us.  Mothers. Wives. Daughters. Sisters. Friends.  Workers.  Seekers. Survivors.

So let's make a pact, okay? Let's give ourselves permission to take care of ourselves. 

Let's stop pretending and hoping that our needs are not important.  Or what we want is not really that big of a deal.  Or that our kids need new and better things more than we do.  

Because the world needs us.  But first, we must fight for ourselves!

Feel free to utilize the permission slip below to justify any actions that may follow the reading of this blog.
____________________________________________________

Permission Slip 

I, _____________, hereby have  permission to _______________
____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

I will do this by this date: _______________________________
because my wants and needs are just as important as everyone else.

With Love,
______________________

The Bumpy Road of Thriving

Often, thriving in my own life doesn’t exactly resemble the dictionary definition: to prosper; be fortunate or successful, to grow or develop vigorously; flourish.

Thriving in my life feels more like a teenager learning to drive.  It resembles a series of abrupt starts and stops, tummy turning twists and turns, sprinkled with a shit ton of unpredictability.

I am hoping for the best (getting out of the car unscathed), but prepared for the worst (a fiery crash is a real possibility).  And so I am extremely relieved when the car comes to a stop, and all is well (true story, with 3 teenage drivers in the house :)

But life doesn’t exactly lay out all these lessons to help us “flourish” nice and neat like.

How do we thrive while working (in a job we love or don't), while we are connecting in our relationships (with a spouse, child(ren), friends, animals), and regularly practicing self care (exercising, meditating, getting enough rest, eating healthy).

How do we truly thrive, when so often we are gulping for the very next breath of air? The times when we don’t feel like we are “growing”, but merely enduring?

Well, I have learned that thriving means asking for help. Not something that comes naturally or innately to me. Because I. Can. Get. It. All. Done. By. My. Self. No Michelle, you can't. It's okay, and such a godsend to accept this truth.

Thriving means falling back into uncertainty because I know it’s time to grow...like leaving a job I love, to grow my own business.  It both excites and terrifies me.

Thriving sounds like admitting I don’t know what the hell I am doing as a parent, as I standby feeling completely inadequate, as one or more of my children is suffering. (insert asking for help, here). Thus, sometimes thriving means letting sorrowful tears flow down my face as a release while I am alone in the car, or shower, or on the trail.

Thriving looks like having really difficult conversations with my husband about sex and money, when I don’t really want to have difficult conversations about sex and money. Thriving creates disharmony in our relationship, only to bring harmony in the end.

Thriving means getting down on the floor with Bo to stroke his soft black ears. Although his doggie breath is enough to kill me...the dishes, laundry, and sweeping can wait. The beast brings me peace.

Thriving means making my bed even when I don’t feel like it because I love pulling the covers back after a long day, and knowing my 4 inch memory foam awaits me.  And while we are on this topic, thriving means recognizing I'm worth the FOUR inch memory foam mattress topper (vs the 2-3 inch imposters).

Thriving means calling in reinforcements, like a dear Priest friend of ours at San Damiano, and asking him to pray over me. As he walks me through a guided meditation, my fists start to unclench, my jaw softens, and I remember for the first time in a long time, I am not forgotten. God's presence, like warm honey, envelops and comforts me. (I'll give you his number...)

Thriving means being quiet when things get loud, so I can listen to the whispers.

Despite circumstance, when we thrive,  we catch glimpses of wonder as life pushes us forward, and curiosity as it pulls us back, ready to “grow us vigorously”.

When things get tricky and unpredictable, other trusted souls will keep us steady.  During the loss of a loved one, severe depression, or unexpected injury, these kindreds will give us sure footing.

Whether it be by simply listening, crying with us, or making us double over with laughter because we are tired of the alternative. 

And when you think about it, all of this prospering, being fortunate or successful, growing or developing vigorously, and flourishing

is a lot of work!

So go ahead and take a nap...it means you're thriving, dear friend!

Hitched...

A Walk Down Memory Lane

23 years ago

Foxy introduces us at the Old Fashioned Butcher Shop and Deli.   I am 23, a college graduate with a teaching credential, but yet to find work. You are 36, have 2 kids, and are going through a divorce. My Mom doesn't know any of these details.  She also doesn't know that you have been praying for someone to love you "just as you are." I have been single for three years, holding out for a "good" guy. A guy who is solid. A guy who is worthy. You ask me out. I say, “Sure.” If nothing else, I figure it will be a free meal. My friends think I am crazy to be going out with such an old guy! Upon meeting you, they gush, "He's just perfect for you, Michelle." The wheels are set in motion.

22 years ago

You make the cut. We move in together.  I bumble my way into being a stepmom to Tommy and Katie, not sure if I'm doing anything right. I cry everyday my first year teaching 6th grade in the East Side.  It is far more challenging than I had imagined. Many days, you drive me to school, assuring me that it will be a better day than before.  You propose. You are more than a "good" guy. I say yes.

21 years ago

We get hitched at Holy Cross in Santa Cruz, vowing to make this thing work for the long haul. When Father Mike asks us if we will lovingly accept children from God, I practically shout from the altar, “ABSOLUTELY!”  You had a vasectomy 11 years prior, and we know full well that you will need to have a reversal if we are to be blessed with children. We know the odds may be stacked against us, but lean into our faith.

20 years ago

You go under the knife, and have the surgery.  We become pregnant...with TWINS!  We are stunned, shocked, and completely blown out of the water. It is a conversion moment for me.  Twins do not run in our family, nor did I hit any of the criteria for having twins. God heard that answer from the altar, and wasted no time!  

19 years ago

Abigail and Isabella join our family. Apparently, we think testing our marriage is a good idea, so we decide to do a remodel while raising teenagers and newborns. I am tandem nursing twins through all of this transition. Life is full of blessings and hardship simultaneously. My folks graciously invite all 6 of us to stay with them for a few months until the remodel is complete. When Abby and Bella have been fed, changed, and are put down for rest side by side in their crib, sometimes they wail. I think to myself, "What is all this fuss about? Play a game of cards with eachother." My dad, on the other hand, yells out from down the hall, "Papa loves you baby. Papa loves you. I'm coming to save you." I stop him, mid-save, many times.

18 years ago

I become pregnant again. And for some unknown reason, my dad develops circulatory issues. He becomes a below the knee amputee. The recovery is long and difficult. Often, I sneak the twins into the hospital to see him. Dad's goal is to learn how to walk with his "new leg" before Abby and Bella do. He succeeds. The girls are right behind.

17 years ago

Emma comes to join our family, born healthy and the biggest baby of all...8 lbs 2 oz.  I worry Abby and Bella will suffocate her with their hugs. When she's not nursing, I carry her in the sling on my body, to keep her safe from the love of her twin sisters.

16 years ago

There countless trips to the park.  I join Weight Watchers, and lose 100 pounds by Emma’s first birthday.  Although I shed the weight, I still have many years ahead of head and heart work.  I start therapy for my body image issues. You support me the entire time, unsure as to what "body image" really means.

15 years ago

I start to question how long my life will resemble the monotonous ground hog days of filling sippy cups, doling out goldfish, and changing poopy diapers. I am trying to potty train twins...I am failing miserably.  You are working a lot. I feel alone. We are committed to each other but our marriage is in a tough spot. We decide to go on a Marriage Encounter Weekend. We decide to do the hard work.

14 years ago

The Marriage Encounter Weekend is such a smashing success, we are delirious and decide to try for another baby! Cosette Francois Walsh joins our tribe.  With 4 kids under 5, I don’t really remember much more of this year.

13 years ago

The twins start Kindergarten, and it quickly becomes evident, that school is more than difficult for them.  We don’t know it yet, but discover later, that they each have Learning Disabilities. We will need to fight the school district to test them, in order to get the accommodations they need to succeed.  It feels like we have been sucker punched. Like someone told us we have damaged goods. There is a grieving of what I thought school would look like for them, and what the reality of the situation is. I put on my boxing gloves, and get ready to fight for the girls. This is the first time you realize, that you too, have undiagnosed Learning Disabilities. The years ahead will be filled with struggle and triumph. This is where my teaching background and kick ass and take names later attitude, gets put to the test. The District doesn't want to test the girls. Testing them costs money. I am not going anywhere. The girls get tested, and each receive a 504 Plan.

12 years ago

My parents leave Campbell and retire to Santa Rosa. It is weird for me to think of someone else living in my childhood home.  Swimming in the pool where I learned to swim. I miss my folks.

11 years ago

Tommy, who is now a Corpsman in the Navy, marries Molly Marie, whom we love.  WOW. Shit just got real. Our kid is grown and married. More importantly, we are so proud of the young man he has become, and the woman whom he now calls his wife.

10 years ago

I am late for my period and randomly decide to pee on a stick. Here comes unplanned baby number 5! I tell you while I'm folding your underwear. Shortly thereafter, the recession hits the country.  We file for bankruptcy. We don’t know if we will lose our home. So many things are uncertain. This is what we know:  as long as we will stick together, we will be okay.  This surprise baby could not have come at a more stressful time.

9 years ago

Our first grandbaby, Joseph, is born.  He's a little red headed Ginger. Charlotte is born later that same year, also a ginger.  Our grandbaby is older than our baby. We are just classy, like that. Although Charlotte is born healthy, she refuses to latch to my breast. She is deemed "failure to thrive", and I must make the trek to Santa Clara Kaiser daily, to ensure she is not losing too much weight. I start implementing formula in addition to pumping. During one of the many hospital trips, Cosette calls 911 explaining to the operator, yea, she has an emergency: she isn't the baby in our family anymore. You have another vasectomy.

8 years ago

We travel to South Carolina and witness Katie marry Joe! WOW.  Shit is getting super real. Now, two kids are married. We feel blessed that both of the kids have found partners who love and support them.  Our hearts are overflowing. Foxy holds down the fort while we're gone. We return home to an immaculate house, a fridge stocked with food, and 5 girls wondering why are Mom and Dad back already? I know first hand how hard it is to accomplish all of that.

7 years ago

Foxy is diagnosed with Cancer.  You ask me if I want to be with her.  I answer without hesitation: yes. I started making cannibis brownies on the regular...some for her, some for me.

6 years ago

You work and take care of all 5 girls so that I could be with Foxy in Santa Rosa, 3-4 days of the week at a time.  With the help of dear friends, you work to make this the new normal. The girls step up and do more chores without complaint. When I return home, I shop at Costco, go the basketball games, and do laundry. I am working hard to be present in two places at once. It is beyond difficult. Meanwhile, you are my rock.

5 years ago

After a two year battle with Cancer, Foxy goes Home.  There is an odd sense of relief that comes with the grief of losing her.  This is when I begin to truly understand what it feels like when a daughter no longer has a Mama.  You stand by my side. You allow me to weep. You give me permission to walk through my grief.

4 years ago

For the first time in our lives, all 5 girls are in school full time.  It feels wonderful and weird. I start to work more at Weight Watchers.  I feel as though God is molding me for the next step, but am unsure as to what that “thing” is.

3 years ago

Trump wins the election, and for the first time in our marriage, we discuss my own past history with sexual molestation and assault.  You voted for Trump, so it presents an especially delicate scenario. With this newly elected President, I feel as though I have been assaulted all over again.  You listen, patiently. It is difficult, but you listen. You hear and see and understand me, fully. There are many tears. We both are trying to wrap our heads around what to do next.  How do we follow our faith and stand in our values? What does that look like now, raising 5 daughters, with this new Commander in Chief? Something has been opened up in me. A thirst to gather with other women in community.  I start having small circle groups with about 6 friends once a month. We gather for support, unconditional love, and connection. I have no idea that God is prepping my heart for Village Well.

2 years ago

We pull the girls out of school and drive to Sonoma.  Your Mom is not doing well, with the dialysis no longer working.  We hold her head and her hands, and thank her for all that she had taught us.  With blurry vision and red-rimmed eyes, we say good-bye, just for now. There are many tears. She goes Home the next day.

1 year ago

The twins prepare to separate for the first time in their lives by attending different colleges.  Although both decide to play basketball, it is a new chapter in our family, minus one chick.  Village Well is born. I start hosting Workshops and Retreats. Finally, I realize what Spirit has been guiding me towards...

Later that same year, my dad loses his home in the Santa Rosa fires.  We are in shock and disbelief. Every momento that was left of my Mama, is now gone.  When people complain about the smoke here, I want to punch them in the face. But I don’t.  I understand that they just don’t realize, that they are smelling someone’s beloved baby blanket, and another person’s cherished photo album, and my mom’s wedding dress. They just don’t know. 

But you do.  

You listen to me, as I writhe back and forth, shaking with anger and confusion asking why?  Why my Dad, when he has already been through so much?  You don’t have any answers, and so you hold me.  You wipe my tears. You stay next to me, no words.  My rock.

Today

Your patience and presence with the girls (and me), your unwavering faith, and your openness and support of me in each and everything I do, astounds me.  

Our lives may be loud, unpredictable, and a wee bit messy, but there is one thing I know for sure: you are the one for me. My rock.

May God continue to bless us with many more years together.  Happy 21st Anniversary, babe. Thanks for putting up with my crazy.

I sure do love you.

I Lost 100 Pounds

And have kept it off for 16 years.  In.  A.  Row.

It has been a journey of learning the same lessons over and over, often through failure.  A journey of trying to be a role model for my daughters through actions, while biting my tongue.  A journey of overindulging, only to be followed by self forgiveness.  A journey of self acceptance, self love, and trusting myself.  And how that greedy lie of perfection tries to steamroll the divine grace of imperfection.  

The day before I gave birth to Emma, I weighed a little over 260 pounds.  I knew that after I had this baby, I needed to get control over my eating and my body.  

Three weeks later,  I stepped into a Weight Watchers and made a commitment.  My goal was to lose 100 lbs by Emma's first birthday.  In fact,  my actual real live thought bubble sounded like this:  "I will go to the meetings.  I will follow the rules.  I will walk regularly.  I will track my food.  I will lose the 100 pounds clinging to my body.  And then I will be happy."  

Reality of that first year: I went to the meetings.  I followed the rules.  I walked with a triple jogging stroller regularly.  I tracked my food.  I lost the 100 pounds that clung to my body.  And I was not happy.  

That, my friends, is when my therapy started. My unfolding of worthiness began.

  

My current body image thought bubble sounds like this:  You weigh 153 pounds and some change.   Your weight does not define you, and will never measure the fact that you are a child of God.  You are here to do some important shit.  You are here to shine.  There will be days when you eat peanut M and M's while wearing your pajama's in your closet, hiding from your family and life.  You have an opportunity to choose forgiveness of self when this happens.  Because it will happen.  

You know for a fact, you feel better about life when you move your ass on the daily.  You also know there will be days when you don't feel like moving said ass.  Do it anyways.  You will thank yourself later.  Keep practicing gratitude and self love.  There will days it flows through you like water in a crystal clear stream.  And days when that same stream is murky, and you are filled with negative self talk.  You are an emotional filled ambrosia and there will be some shit you would rather stuff with food, than feel.  Try to recognize your triggers of overwhelm, resentment, and frustration and honor those feelings.  Forgiveness will be a regular practice. Know your worth.  Don't settle and don't hustle. You know from experience, these behaviors don't deliver long term.

Keep trusting yourself...through meditation, by eating enough protein, by surrounding yourself with positive people.  

By channeling the Divine and Universal love that holds all, knows all, is all.

Keep choosing YOU.  Keep doing the work.  Keep showing up. 

Because you know what?    It is your birthright to be joyful and thriving.  

In fact, it is your God Damn superpower.