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Empowerment

October 2, 2014

 

 

I come to you today with a confession. I haven’t gone to work out all week. I know it’s only a few days, but I’m feeling guilty. Life has been stressful and busy. And as much as I know the exercise will do me good, I am not there mentally. The difference this time though, is I know it’s temporary. I’m practicing self-forgiveness. Well, I am right now, until I look at the scale again and the pounds continue to add up.

But the god’s honest truth is I’m exhausted. I’ve been pushing myself for four months straight. I’ve been disciplined and dedicated. I’ve been a full-time employee, manager, mom, problem-solver, friend, cook, nutritionist, entertainer, cleaner, accountant, friend, faith provider, faithful member of a congregation, teacher, moderator, writer, photographer, editor, project manager. An ex who continues to harass me and attack his kids. While I am successfully practicing ignoring the asshole, the words are still there – out there attacking me. I’ve spent so much time spinning the plates so they don’t fall that I’ve injured myself – not physically, but spiritually. Tonight I’m feeling fully broken and fully human – with all the failings that follow.

Tonight I really wish I had a partner to share the load. To listen to the frustration. To console the aching soul. But I don’t. I am the only one to keep it going and moving forward, so I have to stop pining for what could be and focus on what is.

I had things to do after work so I was going to work out this morning. I couldn’t push myself to get out of bed so I decided to work out tonight. When I came home, I fell sound asleep.

Listening to the radio today, these two songs played. Tonight I am going to love myself and tell the world all my secrets (uh…yeah). I encourage all of you to do the same. Accept yourself,  your limitations, and your victories.  Here’s to saying there’s a time for everything. And my time includes warm soup which I made this morning by getting up early to prep everything and put it in the crockpot before going to work where I did 4 different job functions plus supporting another department then going to be mom after work. So yeah. I’m done.

Internal dialogue

September 21, 2014

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Sometimes the only way to get into nature is sitting on your balcony watching the sunset.

I know I’m my own worst enemy. It’s a constant fight to cancel out negative messages and make the right choices. I’ve been away from the gym most of the week for one reason or another. I forces myself there today instead if sitting at home. I walk by the windows and see all my flab when the admonishment begins. Those last 2 pounds of my 10 pound goal I set two months ago seem to be hanging on like glue. So my lack of exercise and the reflection in the window is more than my weak mental capacity could handle.

All I wanted the rest of the day was a jar of hot fudge. Why can’t I crave healthy snacks – cucumbers and celery? Why can’t I crave running?

Instead of going out for impulsive junk food, I folded clothes.my lungs burned after my workout, so I’ve pounded emergenC and echinacea. I probably will be in bed early rather than drinking a bottle of wine.

When these voices get going they’re hard to stop. They go in all sorts of direction. Often times focusing on what’s lacking in me that men don’t find me attractive or desirable. I analyze the things that repel men. I get stuck in a negative narrative. It’s frustrating me so I escape outdoors. Appreciating the beauty around me.

I hum Pink’s lyrics ” You’re so mean
When you talk
About yourself, you were wrong
Change the voices in your head”

The cost if being healthy

September 19, 2014

This morning I out on my suit jacket only to find it was entirely too sloppy. A victory hail goes up. I wanted to take a picture I the difference between that one and the one I can now fit into. I was feeling pretty good about myself. Until I thought about having to replace it. I now only have two and 1/2 suit jackets that fit. The half is because one is on the border of being too big. Luckily I don’t have to wear suits more than once a week – most of the time. Next week though I have to wear them twice. Ugghh!

I’ve been pondering the cost of becoming healthy for awhile now. Everything the extra cost at the grocery store – fresh produce and lean meats are so much more than processed food – to the cost of exercise – clothes, gym memberships, water bottles, weights, etc.

I do buy seasonal fruit and vegetables, but they still cost more than canned. I can workout at home, but it doesn’t give me the same cardio. I go to the gym in ratty t-shirts and baggy shorts, but wish I had the color coordinated styles now on the market.

Don’t get me started on shoes! Because of my plantar fasciitis I have been reading up on the best shoes to support my arch and heel. The least expensive is still $60 and they only last six months!! Hobbling out of bed in the morning I think I might have to make an investment, but why should I have to pay out of the nose just to become healthier! I’m at the markets mercy.

And now the buying of new clothes once the larger sizes don’t fit. So far it hasn’t been a real issue. Belts work well. And you know me, I will wait until the clothes fall off my body before investing in more. Do I alter the key pieces in my wardrobe? Would that save me any money in comparison to buying new? Still a cost involved!

I’ve talked about this before. If we are committed to making America healthier, why are we putting the costs so high? Is it possible that this is going to be the final divider in the class wars?

I’m struggling today because I’m aching and old. I want to so the right thing, but it seems everything is against me. Cranky!! But genuinely happy to see the differences taking place for the efforts I’m putting in. That didn’t come across, but I really am!

How you sell yourself

September 18, 2014

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Dear men looking to grab a woman through online dating,
Stop.
Stop showing us you’re working out. Stop taking photos of yourself in the mirror at the gym. Stop trying to woo us and make our panties wet by showing your wood while working out.
Stop. Just stop trying to show how full of life you are by bulging your muscles. This is not the Stone Age. We do not need men who will go out to kill our dinner and save us from danger. We don’t need muscles to show us you’re healthy and wealthy to take care of us.
Respect women as your equal. Think about the message you are sending. Do you really want to tell us you think we are meek, weak creatures dependent on men?
Please. I beg you. Stop.

G spot

September 14, 2014

Today while running errands I went past our local adult shop. Our state is obsessed with legislating morality, so we don’t call it a sex shop, we call it a “lingerie” shop. I think a few are even called “marriage enhancement” shops. Haha!

I don’t know what sparked it, but I thought about the last time I was in the shop. It was with Steve. We shopped for fun things and talked about our sexual fantasies. I remember him leaning into me with his hard cock. It was awesome to share that “naughty” part with him and then enjoy all the excitement release after we left.

You know how hormonal I am right now. I came home and masturbated while I thought about getting sexy lingerie. How easy it would be to get an outfit, a wig, some incredibly sexy shoes and meet a stranger in a hotel room. How freeing it would be to let go of this tension and live another life for just a few minutes. Play the part of someone else while driving the stranger wild. Well, it didn’t take long before I climaxed. A long, warm orgasm filled my body. It’s been so long since it has come that easily for me. I lay catching my breath, closed my eyes and fell sound asleep.

I dreamt of being touched and kissed in all the places that turn me on. The strokes down my inner thigh. the wet lips on my hard nipples. A perfectly placed finger pushing my soft flesh inside my throbbing pussy. I love when my hair is played with and brushed softly. My number one G-spot has to be my neck just above my collar bone. How I love to have my hair brushed back from my neck to open it up to warm, soft kisses. Honestly, if done right, I am putty in the hands of a man when he has his lips upon me there.

Masturbation is a wonderful tool. A great release. But it lacks the intimacy which takes me to a deeper place. So, I won’t be getting the alter-ego costume to romp around the city living out sexual fantasies. I’ll wait a bit longer to see if the right one will come along.

Irate

September 12, 2014

Anger. Frustration. Irritability. Grrrr!!!

Friends, I am highly aware my hormones are affecting my reaction to the world today. I’m impatient with humanity. My kids have small pieces of trash they drop all over my living room. Opening their backpacks they drop candy wrappers, pieces of paper, broken pens and pencils. I tell them I want the trash picked up. A normal voice, normal request. They claim not to see it. 0-anger in no time. I yell.

I worked on changing my attitude on the drive to work. I took a quick walk before hitting the office. Yet when Talky McTalkerson comes into the office to make her social rounds, I again begin to boil. I put in my headphones to drown her out. It’s Luke she knew I was trying to ignore her, she stands in my doorway with her back to me and talks to group that’s gathered. She used MY DOORWAY to lean against while she held court. I turn up the music. Even Norah Jones cannot soothe my rattling nerves. This woman has complained for 4 days that she’s overwhelmed with her to-do list. I’ve bit my tongue to avoid telling her to actually work rather than socialize and maybe she’s feel better. Today it took all I could muster not to scream at her.

Today is a very busy day for me. I don’t have time to deal with the normal socialness that women tend to be drawn to. On normal days without hormones I struggle being a part of the woman culture. I’m not a task master who has to be ties to my desk slaving away, but I also don’t need to share baby urination habits and hearing about the latest yoga poses. I don’t want the co-worker down the hall to come in to be reassured she’s a good mother. I don’t care that daycare teachers are not what you want. And I truly, truly don’t are what the latest fashion trends and where people have bought their clothes. We are not at a coffee shop. We are at work!!

Grrr I say. Grrr. Now why isn’t this meeting starting!

Wavering confidence

September 4, 2014

The confidence I had dafter trying on lingerie has left me. As I squeeze must into sausage casing for an elegant evening, I realize I’m still very much a large woman.

For months I’ve been working at reshaping my outer body and focusing on becoming healthy. Today was supposed to be a triumph. Although I still have half way to go for my ultimate goal, I thought I was making progress.

Maybe it’s all the spandex which emphasizes the feeling of glut. I went through not one, but two pair of support hose before abounding them entirely. Some of that may be the long nails and lack of finesse when dressing myself, but that’s not the first place your mind goes to when you hear the split.

Let me say I did have several unsolicited compliments tonight. Some out of kindness of knowing me. One from a complete stranger which caught me off guard. I heard what people were saying, but didn’t feel the words rung true. I saw myself in photos. Still the largest one in the bunch. Disappointing. And still I came home alone to an empty house. No one there to wrap up with and share my buzz from the evening cocktails. And yes, I am equating the aloneness with the beauty that escapes me.

My heart aches for someone to love me. To hold me tight and tell me I am loved and beautiful and desired and wanted. Someone who is proud of the me I am. Who sees my heart and wants to bask in all that radiates from me. Someone to send me flowers and texts just because they’re thinking of me.

As I roll off the sausage casing and wipe off the makeup to reveal the lumps and bumps, the wrinkles and pours, I know sincerely I want someone who will tell me with their heart that I do look wonderful tonight.

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