change – Sweat & Sparkle

Realization

A commenter on another post asked how my stepdaughter’s birthday dinner went over the weekend. Let’s talk about that.

It’s no secret that my husband’s ex-wife (aptly nicknamed Psycho here) has insisted on making things as difficult, contentious, and unnecessarily combative as she possibly can, for nearly two decades. I have zero patience for her lust for drama and conflict, so I dread occasions when we have to spend time with her in person, because she will gladly ruin one of the children’s events to pat herself on the back for being tasteless.

This past weekend, my husband and I met my older stepdaughter and her fiancé for their birthday dinner, since their birthdays are just days apart. Psycho and my younger stepdaughter were also there.

I realized something at that dinner this past weekend. Sitting next to my husband, holding his hand, chatting with my stepdaughter’s fiancé about football…I was actually relaxed. Not uncomfortable. Not tense. Just calm.

I keep writing about growth and true happiness, but until that moment, I didn’t realize how much things have changed within me. When we walked up to the table and were instantly greeted with a sour frown from Psycho and then a string of her deafening complaints about the time, the wait, and lord knows what else because I tuned it out, the truth finally clicked for me, loud and clear.

That woman is a miserable soul. And she always will be. For whatever reason, she refuses to change. She wants to be unhappy, and she yearns to make everyone around her as unhappy as she is.

I used to feel animosity for her. But looking at her this past weekend, I couldn’t help but see the ravages of her moldered soul: frown lines slashed into her sagging face; deadened, empty eyes; her forsaken lack of light or heart or joy.

Some people can’t be saved. They don’t want to be. They cling to their bitterness and spite, because that’s all they have. They desperately claw at others to drag them down to their level, and they rage when people are happy anyway. That is exactly what was happening that evening at dinner, what has been happening for years and years, and I understood it crystal clear for the first time. My tension melted away in that moment, because suddenly I fully and absolutely knew.

She has never hated me. Or my husband. She hates that we are happy. She hates that despite all her attempts to destroy our relationship, we are still very much in love, devoted to each other, building our lives and our future together.

And she is…nothing. She hates that, too.

Psycho bristled at that table, endlessly complaining and gossiping as always, trying her damnedest to bring everyone down with her. But it didn’t work. My husband joked around. My stepdaughters teased each other. My stepdaughter’s fiancé joined in with his own quiet humor. And my husband and I held hands and enjoyed the evening, because we were together.

A burden was heaved off of my shoulders that night. Of course I always knew that Psycho is a joyless creature, but wholly comprehending her foulness, her infatuation with me, her bitterness, and planting the entire responsibility for that onto her shoulders where it belonged, was a welcome relief for me.

Instead of dread, I felt nothing. It just is what it is. She is what she is. Ultimately, insignificant.

I went home that night feeling light. Peaceful. Loved.

Psycho went home that night exactly as she arrived. Hate-filled. Jealous. Fake. Desperate. Failed. Tolerated, not loved. Echoing emptiness.

I am a firm believer that what lies inside will reflect on your outside. For some people, that is beautiful. For others…it is tragic.

For me? I know I still have a long way to go. But the night of that dinner was a significant road marker, signaling how far I have already traveled. And for that, I am grateful and inspired. When I have seen up close and personal what refusing to grow does to a person, then every single step away from that is glorious progress.

Insomnia

I couldn’t sleep last night, so I spent most of the night listening to my husband’s soft breathing beside me, watching shadows shift slowly on the bedroom walls, and thinking. A lot.

Maybe it was actually a blessing in disguise, because instead of getting frustrated that I couldn’t sleep, I decided to go with it. Think. Pick up that thread. Pull on it. Keep following it. And when the train of thoughts got uncomfortable, I pushed on, let it sting, and then simply asked: “So what now?”

I won’t bore you with too many details of my late-night pondering. Hours of sleep-deprived imaginings are not exactly coherent, anyway. In a nutshell, I just got to thinking about how I am back to playing games with myself, doing a half-hearted workout to say I did one, snacking and not logging it in my food diary, convincing myself I will do better tomorrow, and how all of that is inevitably going to add up to being right back where I started.

The very thought of that made me feel like someone was stepping on my chest. Hell, no! I worked so hard to lose this weight, to get stronger, to run again, to be proud of myself. Why am I so hell-bent on shitting on all of that and ruining all of my hard work and progress?

I woke up today, after finally dozing off, with one thought: I am going to succeed today. It’s non-negotiable. I owe it to myself. Get back on track, finish this journey strong, find new goals to focus on and surpass.

I don’t want to regain any more weight or slowly slide back into unhealthy habits that leave me discouraged and unhappy. I have wasted enough time in that dismal head space over the years, and I don’t want to go back.

I don’t know why last night’s insomnia-induced musings finally opened my eyes, but it is worth the fatigue I am slogging through today. I just keep repeating to myself, “I am going to succeed today.” And I will. And tomorrow too, and the day after that.

I owe it to myself, and no one can do this for me, so time to get back to work.

Pretty Damn Good

After weeks of barely-existent workouts and eating like a ravenous, growing baby dinosaur, I squared up with the scale this morning. I joked with my husband that if he heard me shriek in horror and collapse to the floor, to pay me no mind. He told me, “You’re doing fine, and I like your butt the way it is anyway.” I laughed and ventured forth to face the scale.

It was a gain, of course. No surprise there. Not as atrocious as I was expecting, but still, it’s icky to see numbers on the scale that I thought I would never have to see again.

But I know that where I go from here is 100% up to me. Keep wallowing in bad habits, gain some more, or accept this new starting point, learn from the stumble, and get back on the path to badassery.

I saved this quote to my phone as a reminder. There is nothing to be gained (no pun intended) by being angry with myself or punishing myself for a slip-up.

I take responsibility for gaining some weight back, and I accept that it’s up to me to reverse course and get back on track. Simple as that. In the past, I have blown it up to insurmountable proportions and made it so much worse for myself. I refuse to do that again.

Let’s put it into perspective. Look around! I have a loving, supportive husband who can’t keep his hands off of me, no matter what I weigh.

We have a beautiful home that is our refuge and retreat.

We have love, happiness, and plenty of laughter, thanks to my husband and the goofy kids (and now grandkids).

We have it pretty damn good. I don’t want to ever lose sight of that again, and I want to appreciate and honor all the blessings in my life. Even while working on myself, I want to embrace the beauty and joy that already exist in my life, and never miss an opportunity to feel loved and happy.

More of Me

Ever since I could hold a pencil, writing has been a release for me. I filled countless notebooks, diaries, and now blog pages.

Over time, though, I strayed from being fully open about things like my weight and fitness goals and struggles. I feel like a broken record, and if I am being completely honest, I am also a bit embarrassed by how many times I have started, fallen, started again, landed on my face again, cursed, gave up for a while, started yet again…over and over.

But seriously, isn’t that something that an awful lot of people can relate to? How many people wake up one day, decide to lose some weight, and then do just that, effortlessly, with no struggles or stumbles, and continue on their merry way?

Conversations with some other bloggers this week made me see how silly I have been. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. We can all only support each other, learn from each other, kick each other’s rear ends as needed, and be human together.

After fitting into my goal jeans last month, I faced the anniversary of my mom’s death, experienced a death in my husband’s family, traveled for the funeral, went out of town for another trip, and returned to a dumpster fire of a mess at work. As an emotional eater, I responded the way I always do: eating like my life depends on perpetually munching on something sweet and calorie-laden.

I could do one of two things at this point. I could keep hiding, keep digging myself further into this ditch, and move even further away from my goals. Or I could come here, write about it, connect with others about it, hold myself accountable, and turn it around before I get too far out of hand.

Which one sounds more logical and helpful to you?

So, expect to see more of me here. I miss writing. I miss sharing my story, openly, honestly.

I skipped weigh-in last week, but I am going to bravely face the scale this Saturday morning. I already know it’s going to be a gain, and probably one hell of a whopper of one, too. Oh, fun! But once that number has been recorded, it’s time to turn to the future, not tear myself to pieces for falling down.

Where do I go from here? It’s up to me. It’s important to me that this isn’t all about a number on the scale, though. True change doesn’t happen without a significant shift in thinking, in mindset, in your soul. That requires a lot more work, of course, but it will be worth it. If you are on the same path, let’s do this together.