your opinion of me.

i wish i could get on my soap box and preach that your opinion of me doesn’t matter to me. it shouldn’t. but it does.

i know, i know…no one’s opinion of me should change how i think or act or what i do or make me feel better or worst about myself. but come on. we all know it effects us a little here and there.

one of my biggest goals is to let go of what people think of me. and i go through phases where i really am good about letting it go and not giving a sh*t. but i also go through phases where i am obsessed with what people think or say about me.

and it makes no sense, but lately the positive comments have had negative effects on me.

recently, i got some positive feedback on my physical appearance. now, mind you, i’m no stranger to comments about my body. however, most of the time they are incredibly hurtful and negative. while those ones always sting, it’s been over 10 years of having people talk about my physical appearance in a negative way, so it’s become something i just get upset about and move on. don’t get me wrong, that shit hurts and i remember most of the bad ones, but i guess me being me has come to realize it happens and people are assholes.

however, it wasn’t until i got some positive comments on my physical appearance that i realized…it’s none of your damn business what i look like. after reading through some comments, from men nonetheless, about me looking fit and like i’ve dropped weight, i initially was proud…and then my head started processing it all…so i looked like a fat hippo to you before now? they asked how my workouts had changed and all i wanted to say was, “they haven’t. i work my ass off day in and day out and have been doing so for the past 3 years.” I wanted to say, “I’ve never actually looked like this in my life…and i’m 34 and a has been top athlete and i’ve never worked this hard in my life.” I wanted to say, “i am in the gym sweating 5 or 6 days a week. running 4 or 5 days a week. hiking. playing tennis. sprinting. and trying to keep my body glued together between all that.” i wanted to say i’m one of the hardest workers you’ll ever meet. but i didn’t. i didn’t say anything. because they don’t understand and they don’t know me…and they don’t realize how their comments on what i look like actually sent me deeper into an obsessiveness i pretend to have control over.

a week later, i found myself binging and eating uncontrollably. and all i kept thinking was, “shit. they’re going to watch the video from this week and remind me i’m actually a cow. and ask how did i put 20 lbs on so fast.” i went through a week where i wasn’t motivated and couldn’t discipline my diet. it went straight to my head. and i hate it. i had just come off about a month of avoiding added sugar in anything and i kept starting my new count over every other day because i couldn’t help from shoving sugar in my mouth.  call it sabotage. call it being human. call it what you want, but it really messed with me.

so this week, i snapped it back into gear. but i consciously am realizing how with each day, the more obsessed i am becoming with my workouts. i freak out on the inside if i am not sure i can get a full hour in the gym. this morning i ran 5.5 miles, played 90 mins of tennis and went to the gym for an hour. and i still feel like it wasn’t enough. i’m back on the discipline train with my eating (I’ve NEVER been good with the whole moderation thing…most things in my life are all or nothing…food has kind of been that way too). tomorrow will be day 3 of no added sugar and i set some goals for the end of the month to keep me on track.

so as i try to add some sort of balance into my life again…i also will be working on not letting people’s thoughts about me effect me deep down. because for my own health, i need to be ok knowing at the end of the day, i did everything i could to be the best version of me and have the best day…and somedays that might mean skipping the gym or eating a cupcake…or running 6 miles before work and following it with leg day…just as long as i’m doing it for me, it will be ok.

oxnard.

i’ve been fighting these words and feeling these feelings. but maybe it’s time to write them down.

last week, my sister and i got in a fight. a big fight. a fight that left me heart broken. and confused. and hurt.

most of the time, i’m the first to apologize. maybe it’s the older sister in me. or the fear of someone hating me. or the fact that i hate unresolved issues. like the time she lost it and threw me out of her house. i was the first to say something. i poured my heart out to her. yet here we are. 4 months later. and i feel the same all over again. but i know i did nothing wrong. and this time instead of sweeping it away and pretending it’s ok…i am looking out for me.

my heart hurts. after this fight i realized it was identical to almost every break up i’ve had. how sad and devastating is that? i blame myself for a lot. and that’s just what she’s doing…blaming me for things i have no control over.

but it doesn’t effect her like it effects me. it doesn’t send her in a down whirl spiral. it doesn’t cause her to beat herself up…mentally and physically. it doesn’t cause her to hate what she sees in the mirror — on the inside and the out. to have a voice inside berate her…to feel like the most disgusting human being…to feel like an ugly, disgusting person. to want to run away…to anywhere else. to fuck everything and be mad at the world. to not want to have to fake a smile. no. she doesn’t get it.

and i’ve been avoiding writing it or dealing with it. because honestly, i never have. because my fear of losing my sister is bigger. because i let it go. me and my big mouth let what is bothering me the most go. and she forgets what she said, how she acted and what she did and begins complaining about the next thing.

i won’t let people like that in my world. i can’t let her continue to do this. and i know she doesn’t get it. and never will. and it hurts too that she doesn’t try.

and what am i to do. i don’t like the way she treats me when he’s around. i don’t like how she treats me like i’m not as good as her…i don’t like how she’s so defensive…i don’t like how she goes from zero to sixty instead of being rational. and i don’t know how to move forward with her this time.

life is a motherf*cking balance.

when i finally write my book, that will be the name of it.

life is a motherf*cking balance.

there isn’t a week that goes by that those words don’t come out of my mouth. ok, well not the “motherf*cking” part but you get my jist.

ironically, i didn’t always believe that though.

let’s backtrack.

back in…let’s see, 2010…maybe 2011. i asked my boss if i could go to a women’s coaching conference. what’s crazy about my memory, i remember so many things SO VIVIDLY, but there are so many things i have no recollection of…so i can’t even remember where this conference was held, but i remember so many parts of it so clear. i made so many fabulous connections and was able to vent. i was stuck in a coaching career which i “loved.” hah…apparently i didn’t know what love was back then. i had done an amazing job of convincing myself and EVERYONE around me and in my life that i LOVED my job…my career! my life.

here’s the truth. i was miserable. i had a boss i didn’t respect (for a 100 reasons, but mainly because he didn’t have a backbone). i didn’t have friends. i had NO life outside of my job. my success was based on the performance of 8-10 18-22 year olds on any given day. i wanted to be a head coach but didn’t have the experience. i wanted friends but didn’t have them. i stopped working on me. i was fat and overweight and out of shape. i rewarded myself with food. i loved to travel because there was nothing else i had to look forward to. i cried anytime i had to go back to work. things weren’t great folks. but i grinned and smiled through it all and did a convincingly amazing job relaying the message: “i love being a college coach! i was born to do this!”

so back to this conference. i learned so much and used it to fuel my plans to become a head coach somewhere. anywhere! however there was one day where we all picked phrases/words and had to talk about how they related to our life. when i closed my eyes to choose and open them, i frowned a bit when i saw, “life is a balance” starring back at me. at this point in my life, life was NOT a balance. my life revolved around work. and i LOVED it (please note that is said dripping with sarcasm!). i sat there trying to explain how this phrase mattered to me…”um i mean, i guess this is good because i work too much and don’t really have a life out of coaching. my friends are other coaches…and they are scattered across the country and i see them maybe 4 times a year at tournaments, dual matches and recruiting trips…so yea, i need to balance my life.” I said it with a smile trying to convince myself more than anyone else in the room.

well…aside from learning how to be a badass coach, mentor, manager, human that weekend, i got working on finding new spots for me to thrive. applying for jobs anywhere…everywhere…literally EVERYWHERE. i knew a new start would open up this “balance” i needed in my life. let’s just say what’s to follow is a whole chapter (or book!) of its own…but life doesn’t always work out the way we planned it (speaking of mantras, i remember once being told, “sometimes dreams change, and that’s ok” — another one i had to relearn once it applied to my life).

so after leaving the university i poured my heart and soul and LIFE into for 3 years, i ended up going back to california. i think this is what they call “hitting rock bottom.”

yea. i did that. let’s skip the middle part because again…different chapters.

and let’s come back to present day. life is a BALANCE.

would you believe i still have those words and see them every morning and every night?! would you believe it if i told you they mean more to me ever today than they ever did previously?

this week is national eating disorder awareness. sadly, my eating hasn’t been the only spot where i’ve needed balance. when i was 16-18, i spent hours training and consumed maybe 800 calories on a good day…or binged on cookie dough. i was the smallest i’d ever been. and then college came. and while i was a top d1 athlete, by my senior year i had managed to gain 20 lbs. and then i had nothing to work for. i wasn’t able to turn pro due to financial reasons. i had “nothing to train for.” so i didn’t. and years passed. and pounds packed on. and one day i was 28 and in a relationship with a man who told me i needed to go to the gym because i was fat. and i was depressed and not happy. and life blessed me with what at the time felt like a dagger but in all honesty was probably the BEST thing that ever could have happened.

i went home to california. i was depressed. i hated myself. i cried a lot. i yelled. i sulked. i applied for jobs. but i started working out again. i slowly started working on me. and i got into it. and i ate healthier. and i educated myself. and i learned. and while i was sad, it was something else to focus on.

and finally life turned around. i moved to the central coast. i found an actual dream job in the city i had always dreamed of living.

and i turned 30.

i began learning what a balance in life was. a little work, a little fun, a little sweat, a little play, a little here and there. time with friends, time on my own. running, lifting, tennis, off days. life became a balance. to this day, my life is a motherf*cking balance 🙂 of juggling me!

while every day i still struggle and deal with disordered eating, i’ve slowly gotten more comfortable with food and the balance of it all. somedays (like today) i run 6 miles and go to the gym and eat salads and chicken…and somedays i take a day off and enjoy wine and a bite (or 15) of cake. life is a balance.

and on that note, as much as i want to keep babbling on…i have to meet friends for dinner because yep, you guessed it…life is a balance. work hard, play hard…love the life you live.

xox

i’ll figure it out.

it’s been a tough week.

why? i’m not sure. i’d love to pinpoint what triggered it all. but somedays when you know what it’s like to feel completely down on yourself and depressed, it’s easy to get back there. and that’s what has happened.

i had an awesome weekend. fun with friends. time to myself. a long run. wine. i couldn’t ask for a better weekend! then the week started, and i let people who don’t matter bug me, and started worrying about what people think of me, and suddenly the voices crept back into my head. “you’re pathetic. and fat. and slow. and you suck at life. why do you even bother. you’re ugly. and your clothes don’t look good on you…” yea, i think you get the picture.

sadly, when it gets all the way to that point, it’s hard to escape. the tears are on the verge. the hate builds. and all of a sudden there is so much pain, you would do anything to stop it because you actually cannot stand the person you are in that moment. it’s hard to explain to someone who’s never experienced it. to explain to another human that you actually don’t like yourself, at all, in that moment — whether it be for an hour or a day or a week, or worst yet, a year. i know this feeling all to well. i’ve fled from this feeling. i used to live in this feeling. so seeing it come back this week was not something i wanted to deal with.

i don’t expect anyone to get it actually. lately people have been bothering me. somedays it’s like high school all over again. i like being an individual. and the people i spend my time with when i’m not at work are people i value and love and more importantly, people that understand who i am. but lately i feel like my life is on display for people to watch and critique. and i wish i didn’t care.

i was hoping to vent it all out tonight. but i will leave it here. somedays i worry when blogging on my actual thoughts and experiences hinders me as i have a constant fear of someone i don’t want to read my words, reading my words. it happens constantly on my instagram and facebook. i love to express myself on other avenues and i can be transparent and real on my instagram. however, lately i’ve found people are watching me, not liking or interacting with me, but talking about me or using that as ammo as if they “know” me and my life…i love trying to convey positive messages or reach out for support when i am struggling. but when people see what i’m doing and think they know me, or judge me, or are convinced they know what’s going on without ever consulting me leaves me just a little baffled.

on the positive, this week i had an amazing night with some pretty fabulous ladies. ladies who made me want to be their friends. ladies who struggle but still are strong and put a smile on and work on achieving their goals. ladies who are up before the sun and work hard to leave life better. i am excited to continue to get to know them and am thankful they have come into my life.

and for the rest of the week, i will do my best to turn this around and find the lesson in it all. work on being a better version of myself and work on being nicer to me. i know i need to love myself. it’s been something i’ve needed to work on for years. and i desperately want to get there. it’s tough because after an amazing weekend where i legitimately loved who i was and where i was and who i was with, i somehow spiraled downward the next day for two solid days.

keep on keeping on…i’ll figure it out.

xox

Happier Fat?

Ok, that’s a vague title.

I’ve had a bit of an off week. I haven’t been writing for whatever reason. I haven’t found…scratch that, made the time. That’s the actual reason. Which is kind of a bummer because over the past few weeks I’ve thought of a lot of things to write on. But either way, not beating myself too much about it…here I am.

So aside from not writing, the past week or so has also handed me a few challenges. I strained my calf (the same spot that I tore almost 4 years ago when I was over exercising). I came down with a nasty cold (maybe the flu?). And yea, that was enough to throw me off. The calf thing had been building up and bothering me now for well over a month. And I had been run down and exhausted so I guess getting sick was also imminent. So I battled this week.

Monday, I wasn’t feeling great, but as I almost always do, I told my head to stop complaining, suck it up, and deal with it. I dealt with it in a way almost no one else in the world would. I ran 2 miles then hit the gym to do 100 thrusters and 100 hand release push ups. Normal, right? My head was killing me by 4pm and I dragged myself home and into bed where I remained for the next 24 hours.

I allowed myself a sick day, loaded with sleeping and rest and fluids and then gave myself said pep talk on Wednesday and got myself back into work. And back into the gym.

Despite not being able to breathe. Or taste. Or function without a throbbing headache, Thursday ran about the same as Wednesday.

By Friday, I was so excited I made it through the week. Went for a mile run to test my calf for the big run I had planned all week for Saturday and hit the gym hard, blowing my nose every 5 minutes, but completed my WOD and accessory work and was proud to have successfully made it through a tough week only giving up one day off.

And by Friday I felt like I had some swag back. I also felt like I was leaning out and doing good work in the gym and since I’d been sick, I was proud I didn’t really eat too poorly. Except by Saturday, I realized I didn’t really eat at all.

So let’s fast forward to today. Saturday. After taking almost 2 weeks off from any long runs, I was so excited to lace up my shoes and hit the pavement. It has been raining, so I planned this one perfect. Post-rain, it would still be wet but not too cold. I woke up without my alarm, made coffee, drank a glass of water, ate some eggs and got dressed. Threw on an ankle brace, compression sock and calf sleeve and was stoked to get going. I parked, picked my pandora station and I was off! The goal was between 5 and 6 miles, but I was hoping my body would be able to handle 6 no problem. I hit 3 miles and was ecstatic to turn around. Until, bam. I gingerly stopped. My right hamstring just balled up into a tiny pretzel before my eyes. Wait a minute?! What?! My fucking right hamstring is now giving me issues? You have got to be kidding me. I stopped then and there, unsure of what to do, with tears welling in my eyes not from the pain but the mere fact that I might be facing another injury. Unsure what to do, I crossed the street and started pounding my hamstring with my fist — I probably looked insane, but I have pretty tight legs and my mere pounding wasn’t even beginning to loosen them up. I started going through every hamstring stretch I knew…as sweat is pouring from my body. And then it hit me. It’s 85% humidity right now. I didn’t drink nearly enough water yesterday, let alone this morning and I sure as hell sweat most of it out in my first 3 miles….

I stretched and started my walk home. I figured I would be fine if I could somehow lengthen the muscle and get it to unknot. Jog. Stop. Stretch. Walk. Jog. Stop. Stretch. Walk…By the time I was a .75 mile away from my car, I jogged and told myself I could make it, I’d be fine and the faster I got to my car the faster I could hydrate and ice.

I made it to my car and inhaled 40 ounces of water like it was nothing. And my body wasn’t full. Then and there I realized despite all the warning signs to slow down and take care of myself all week hadn’t worked. Then I realized that eating one solid meal a day for the past week hadn’t worked. Then I realized forcing myself into a day off hadn’t worked. And then I realized how my head has been a bit more of a mess than I thought lately.

What’s the point of telling you all this? All morning I had been so proud of the “baby abs” I am starting to sprout. And how lean, but strong, my legs are looking. And how I did 5 pull-ups without assistance this week on a week I was sick. And how I felt like my core has been tightening. And my boobs might be shrinking. And my shoulders are looking stronger. And how I hadn’t over indulged at all all week. These are all the things I was so proud of. And yet my body was screaming at me.

I had a conversation with my sister the other day explaining to her how I hadn’t had anything pumpkin yet because of how many carbs and sugars are in everything. I love pumpkin. I love fall flavors. She said “I don’t care about carbs.” Is it bad that somedays, for some moments, I wish I didn’t either. I wish I could eat that brownie without feeling guilt. With remembering that life is a balance. I wish I could remember the last time I had a sandwich, with bread. I wish I knew the last time I had ice cream that didn’t have sugar alcohols in them. The only pumpkin items I’ve had have been sugar free. I swear I wasn’t like this a year ago. But I also swear I didn’t have “baby abs” a year ago too.

It’s frustrating. There are many days my head obsesses over what I will eat, when, where, what happens if I go out, what if I want to drink and no one has sugar free mixers, what if there is only beer and I don’t want all the carbs, what if we order pizza and that’s all there is to eat, and more importantly, what if i DO eat a cupcake or cookie or brownie?!…these are things that constantly rotate in my head. And then the next day it’s all about how many miles do I need to run to fix that mistake I made by eating that brownie, and is that going to be a hard enough or long enough workout, and how do I get my cardio in if I can’t run, and how many miles can I run after work, or should I hike, or maybe a trail run or HIIT sprints might be good, but I can’t tonight how will I fit that in if I have an obligation at 6pm. It’s exhausting.

While I know I wouldn’t be happier where I was 60+ pounds ago, somedays I wish my inner fat kid could just take over without my inner fit fanatic always being present. And the thing is, I know I need to find the balance, and I know that takes work. It doesn’t just happen one day. I need to practice it. One cookie won’t ruin a workout. One brownie won’t ruin a month of hard work. Run because you love to run, because you love the time alone and you love the sweat. Not because you ate pizza last night. Or had a beer. Or three. Hit the gym because that’s your version of therapy. And you love growing new muscles and being strong and looking strong. Not because you need to punish yourself for a day or two off. Or for not eating clean the day before.

Time to work on letting go a little because truth is…

Life is a mother fucking balance.

xx

when he’s being an a**.

I’m not gonna lie. I have had it up to here with a**holes. So, when one of my guy friends seemed to befriend me and start spending a lot of time with me, and even fooled half of our social circle into the fact that we were (or weren’t we?) dating…I enjoyed it. Yes. Maybe that means I was using him as much as he was using me. But I enjoyed the fact that a) if people thought I were dating said guy friend that it was a definite upgrade from my ex and b) if people thought I was dating said guy friend, maybe somehow that made me more special…and c) I liked his company and honestly could see me dating SAID GUY FRIEND (plus, did I mention, he’s cute?!).

SO when I realized said guy friend has THE worst taste in women, it completely killed the vibe. And it broke a little piece of my heart. So you are into the dumbest, skinniest, blondes? (No offense ladies…but really?!) Said guy friend has been a friend for over 3 years. On and off and on again for different reasons…but that time it was my birthday and he may (or may not?) have hooked up with someone who I consider to be a younger sister is reason enough why we never got real close. But, he was roommates with two of my favorite people…which was reason enough why we DID in fact get close. So when he started spending nights at my place…and in my bed…well I guess the line got, to say the least, blurry. And when every other friday turned into a night out of drinking, dancing, deep thoughts and flirtation…well I guess I thought maybe something more was there. I guess I thought maybe he would realize I am actually the one he wants. But I’m not dumb. Or skinny…And I’m a legit blonde…not the fake blonde type.

So since he’s spoken all of 5 words to me in the last 3 days, I guess I see where I stand. And since I know I come nothing close to his standards, I will pretend to not care. But the thing is. I am what he wants. I am the right choice. But in all honestly, he doesn’t deserve me. And I should never talk to him for treating me like I now don’t exist…but really, I should have been smarter and known better and never trusted him.

And for that…I refuse to be effected. I’m sorry but eff you. If you’ve been in fact using me to get what you want from other people or waste your time, then karma has something coming at you. That’s not what friends are. I expected so much more from you, and can honestly say I’m actually disappointed in who you’ve turned out to be. And that’s all I can say for now, but it hurts my heart to know you might have used me…

xox.

 

 

and some days you’re bad ass.

Ever have those days where you feel on top of the world?! Nothing can stop you! You can do it all!

Sure, they may not be but every couple weeks (or maybe more often if you’re lucky), but today was one of those days! My alarm went off this morning at 5:30am and I popped up, got dressed, made some coffee and was out the door before the sun was up. 12 minutes later, I started a morning run and raced to the beach trying to beat the sun to the shore. Today, I won. Turned around and finished just over 5 miles at 7am.

Off to work I went, endorphins and sweat flowing, feeling good. There’s nothing like feeling accomplished before even getting into work on a Monday morning! 5 miles down, what else was on the agenda. Work flew by — checking emails, getting things done. When it was time to workout, I got in the mindspace, changed and started with a warm up run…in the 100+ degree heat. Followed by an insanely hot 40 minutes in the gym working on squats, squat cleans, sumo squats and pushups, I finished up with the last thing in the world I wanted to do, run another mile in the heat. I make it a habit to open and close my Monday WODs with miles…while it never gets easier, it seems to be pretty awesome and butt kicking and sometimes even vomit inducing. I left the gym feeling accomplished — 7 miles done and a workout to boot!

Later, the energy continued to flow. I jumped on the court and drilled and it felt amazing. Driving solid balls through the court well over 80 miles an hour, moving around, pain free. Gotta love that feeling on a monday where nothing yet is sore or hurting.

Anyway, one might think this blog post is just showing off and bragging. But really it’s a nice reminder that somedays I am pretty badass. Over the weekend I had some friends tell me how athletic I was. I laughed it off and said they must not have been referring to me, but one of the other 3 guys I had been playing beach volleyball with. “No. I watched you out there. And I watched them..you are athletic.”

It got me thinking. I may not have ever had the most natural talent. Or athletic abilities. But I sure as hell will try harder than anyone I know. And I’m coachable and competitive. And you bet your ass I ran 7 miles today, played tennis AND worked out…you’re damn right I’m athletic!

I’m slowly learning to like little things here and there about myself physically. Like my baby lats that slowly are popping up above my shoulders. And how maybe my waist isn’t leaning out but my bra line is…leading to emphasizing my broad shoulders and strong legs. I’ve never worried about a thigh gap per say, but my quads are strong and my legs have carried me through hell and back. For whatever reason, the veins in my hands pop just a little bit more lately and the calluses on my hands are actually a badge of honor to me, while most men (and women) would find them disgusting. My aches and pains remind me of how hard I push. And my sweaty clothes that I need to air out every day are also soaked with passion and pride. Maybe my body isn’t changing drastically, but every day I work hard to get stronger and become more of who I want to be.

Either way…on most days where my head can be consumed about ways I can be better, try harder, be nicer, accomplish more…today, I’m just going to be proud of me. No, I don’t have four kinds and 3 jobs…I’m just living a life I love, but today, I pushed myself and was positive and strong and somedays, that’s enough. And today, I was badass.

xox.

embrace your inner beyonce.

one of the hardest parts of being a “strong woman” is just that, remaining strong even on the toughest of days.

let’s be honest, life is rough man. some days just aren’t great. and some days the littlest thing in the world can get under your skin and turn your day for the worst. and maybe you’re having the best day, or week even and something hits you like a ton of bricks and you can’t find your smile. even worst, maybe you just don’t even want to look for it. or it’s just another straw on the camel’s back that brings you down right as you were done being sad. I get it. I’ve been on every end of this story. and what’s tough, is my “I’m a badass, don’t mess with me, I always have a smile on my face” persona completely cracks at that point…and this strong woman I used to recognize in the mirror has disappeared.

last week, i had one of those moments. i was in a great mood. i’ve been enjoying the company of some different people and just super busy at work and socially (which I enjoy), pushing hard in the gym and out of the gym and just having a decent week, when there it was…the comment that broke me. (I have to preface this with the fact that I did write about this last week, but had a chance to discuss it a bit today with someone, so i guess these are just some more reflections.) “she’s ugly as hell.” Wait? what? Excuse me? Yes, some internet troll got the best of me. The tears started welling up and the voices in my head began. “Well, I guess I don’t look that great, I should have re-done my make up and brushed my hair or at least put it in a better bun and clipped up the sides. And yea, this shirt isn’t the most flattering, and my face looks horrible today, why is my nose peeling?! And why didn’t I put on lipstick. Ugh they’re right, I am ugly as hell.”

Then and there, I kind of broke. I left the room and stood outside to gather my emotions before returning to my desk where I promised myself I wouldn’t cry. The tears welled up and left, welled up and left. And then my boss asked to chat. I stepped outside and knew what he wanted to talk about, but wasn’t sure how I was going to handle it. “It seems like you’ve been getting effected more with each negative comment…” Yep. Yes sir, you are right, with each one, the knife gorges deeper. “I don’t have the answers, but people are jerks and I want you to know I am here to help you through it and it probably isn’t going to change.” Of course, I began apologizing profusely, “I know, I need thicker skin. I don’t know why it bothers me. I’ll do better.” But what came out next was the actual truth. Because he wasn’t looking for an apology from me or for me to close myself off, but he wanted to know he cared and didn’t want me to lose my passion over some asshats on the internet. So back to what I said next…”the thing is, it hurts me so much more than others because I believe it.” I couldn’t look at him as the tears were flooding in. I laughed and apologized for the impromptu therapy session. And I could just feel his heart breaking for me.

Now, I’m super lucky to have an amazing boss and support system. Thanks to him, today I had a chance to chat with someone who would keep things light and anonymous. I think it honestly hit him harder than he realized (as a dad of 5, 3 of which are daughters, I think it just really tugged at his heart strings that people can be so cruel and hurtful). So today, after talking it out a bit, and trying to explain it to someone who may not completely understand but was a good listener, I said, “I just need to embrace my inner Beyonce.” She smiled and agreed, “yes, definitely.”

I left the conversation feeling slightly unsure about my next step, but slightly leaning toward the idea of just trying to remain as strong as possible. But something we talked about hit me. “No matter what it is that gets you down, we all have those moments where we need to call on our tribe and ask them to remind us how awesome we are.”

Somedays, despite the smile, I feel like I am fooling EVERYBODY! Don’t get me wrong, somedays I feel absolutely bad ass and amazing and yes, you’re jealous of my life because my life is pretty fantastic. But on those odd days when I feel gross or fat or ugly or stupid or lonely or sad or unaacomplished or slow or disgusting (yes, I could go on!) I have to realize that’s ok too. I can’t be 100% on my game everyday (or can I?!?!?). And on those days or moments, I need to find a way to be ok with that.

Ironically last week, I had about 3 friends tell me I am the hardest person on myself out of anyone they know. That’s always an interesting critique to me. My mom would cringe hearing me explain it, but if I’m not hard on myself trying to be better/faster/stronger/smarter/prettier/wiser/etc…then what’s the point?! I have a horrible (yet amazing) habit of committing 100% to basically everything I do. Passion I think would be a good way of describing it. I was raised not to half ass anything. So I don’t. But it’s a bit of a double edged sword. Because there’s always room for improvement…what’s that quote, “they tell me nothing is perfect, then why is it a word?” Like I said, double edged sword.

So today I realized a few things. I need to remember the good things people say about me. Maybe even collect those. How sad is it that I was keeping the mean, hateful comments…?! (WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME??). I also am considering therapy…again. I’m scared and really don’t know about it, but today it was explained to me like this — if you talk to someone about things to help you grow into a better version of yourself when your life is good and you’re NOT at rock bottom, you’re going to be much more receptive and interested in fixing the little things. So, I know I have my own glaring issues that have really come to the surface this past year, although I think they are pretty submersed from the public eye…I hope! I need to write down my goals and be specific. I know what I want, and I want to get there…so time to put pen to paper (I may even just publish them here…the universe needs to know!). I’ve gotta give myself a break, somedays. It’s great to be pushing to be better every day, but the speed bumps happen and if it isn’t an exactly perfect day, I need to be ok with it (that’s going to be a big one to work on). And embrace my inner Beyonce! I know that sounds silly, but to me, it makes all the sense in the world. She’s such a strong woman and you know she has those days where the media has gone after her or she’s tired or it’s just not her day (I’m assuming even Bey has bad days, I mean, did you hear Lemonade?!). But, consult your tribe. Deal with that. And move forward. Stop letting it control you. Control what you can. And continue to build others up and be nice. Compliment and make others around you strong. You can’t always be the strongest woman in the world, but you can be nice and you can help build others up.

I’m going to put a quote at the bottom of this post, which made me realize how much I need to change my brain and way of thinking. Because all the negatives I repeat to myself are manifesting in the world. And I do NOT need that negativity. So let’s manifest some positive sh*t! 🙂

Now if you made it just that far through this jumbled blog post…kudos to you! My brain is mush after this long day. I had every intention of writing something that made absolute sense this evening…but I just wrote, and this came out 🙂

“the world will see you the way you see you, and treat you the way you treat yourself.” – Beyonce

xox.

when will you love yourself.

One of the biggest reasons I wanted to start writing again was to hope to cope with some internal issues that have seemed to flare up. Mainly my body image issues as well as my negative internal voices.

I work in a position where I am in the public eye. I’m not a trained actor. No one has ever really taught me how to do my make up or hair or speak correctly or what not. But I have personality and I smile big and I love what I do. I’m on social media and youtube and my face and body is out there. So today when I got the comment, “She’s ugly as hell” it hit me hard. Like the rest of them.

All week I have been happy and feeling pretty good about myself…but in that instance when I received that message, I was quickly reminded how ugly, fat, dumb, pathetic, gross, etc. I am. While everyone reminds me “that’s not real, that’s not the truth,” I beg to differ. My boss pulled me aside to let me know he could tell the hateful comments have been getting to me. Yep. They have. Sadly in that moment as I fought the tears back, I realized why they get to me more than anyone else…because I believe them to be true. It might as well be one of the voices saying it to me. As my boss explained how much he sees I have changed physically over the past 3 years and how I work harder than anyone he knows and am in better shape than 90% of the world, it’s so hard to pat myself on my back for that…I mean, I’m just trying to be better each day. While I realize I’m so far from perfect, some days I just want to be done with the day and have someone tell me I’m beautiful and perfect just the way I am.

Why?! Why can’t I love myself? Why can’t I get there? I have hours of greatness — where I feel completely in control of who I am and love *almost* every ounce of her. I look at people and wish I had their confidence or ego even. Why do I believe them? I have friends tell me I’m one of the most beautiful people inside and out and all I feel is that I’m one of the most broken people. I talk about embracing the “glorious mess” that I am, but it’s hard. I mean, I embrace it 100% but somedays that consists on dealing with some self hate.

I’m not actually looking for answers because at the end of the day I know I need to work on these things. And I do. And I have. And I know no one can love me enough for me to love me. But I just wonder if it will ever happen?

And on the complete opposite side of the coin, people that go out of their way to be mean, hateful, and plain rude are assholes. What makes you feel the need to RUIN someone else’s day? Newsflash, we are people. It effects us. It hurts. Shut the fuck up and don’t say anything if you don’t have something nice to say. And while you’re at it, send me your Mom’s phone number or email so I can call her up and see if she taught you that or if you’re just a royal jerk.

And with that, I’m off to spend an evening with my ladies, let go of all the bullshit and hate swimming in my head and enjoy the evening.

xox.

 

life.

I’m excited to get the ball rolling. Entry one has been added and I feel like I have freedom to write what I want from here on out.

While I struggle most days to find enough hours in the day, I think this will be an important task I will want to find time for. Because four years ago…my blog was what kept me going.

Now, why should you listen to me? Well…I’m not saying you should. But I’ve lived life and experienced a whole helluva a lot. A lot more than I think most have. And here’s what I know and what I can expand on…Life is amazing. Yes, it does eventually all make sense and even the darkest times do have a light at the end of the tunnel. You may feel alone, but you aren’t. Some days suck…for no reason at all. People can be assholes. Some days are amazing…for no reason at all, but you just find yourself smiling and laughing and in it. Some people will always get it. Several never will. The people who are there through the ups and downs are your tribe. Don’t open up to everyone, most people don’t care. Life is too short not to be living it how you want. Do what you love, no matter what it is. No man ever has the right to abuse the woman he claims to care about — mentally, physically or emotionally. Hate and jealousy is an ugly emotion. If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all. Dreams do come true but sometimes dreams change. March to the beat of your own drum. No one said it would be easy. Enjoy every minute of your world. Life is short, tell the people you love that you care about them. You are worth it. Life is a balance. Nothing toxic comes from genuine love. You never know who you are inspiring.

I could go on 🙂 and I will…

You could say four years ago I hit rock bottom. Ironically enough, now looking back…I probably hit it before…although thought I was downward spiralling when in actuality, I may have been rebounding back.

Four years ago, I hated myself. I was lost. I literally cried every day. I had just moved home with my mom after my contract wasn’t renewed and I was lied to and I lost my “dream job.” I had no friends (granted, I had no friends in albuquerque either so this wasnt new). My emotionally abusive narcissistic ex boyfriend broke up with me after saying he would do anything to move to be with me. I was fat and hadn’t worked out (like seriously worked out, sure 30 minutes on the elliptical here and there) in years. I had no passion. I had no direction. I was sad. Every day was painful.

Now I have to preface this story ALWAYS by saying thank GOD for my support system. Which consists of my mom and my sister. No joke, without those two, there is no way I’d be where I am today. I may not even be here…let alone living my dreams.

That being said, thankfully my Mom had found a gym she loved and saw results at and dragged me along. Me, being cloudy and foggy and angry at the world was convinced it was dumb because after all, I had been a top athlete and could have been a pro tennis player and they couldn’t train me. Little did I realize I had been abusing my body for years and hadnt actually consistently worked since I had stopped competing several years ago. For some reason, I was convinced that as a D1 tennis coach, working out only was necessary for the players. Did I mention my then boyfriend tried to snap me out of that by letting me know I was “fat” and “should go to the gym?!”

So, at 29 years old I found myself unemployed, overweight and living with my Mom…far from any dream I had ever dreamt. I had been diagnosed with “severe depression and anxiety” months before and was on one of the heaviest, legal doses of anti-depressants (which after doing extensive research, I learned would be a bitch to ween myself off). I struggled almost daily with self harm. So much so that every time I had an incident, my Mom made me promise her I’d never do it again. I never could make that promise. And each time it got worst. But it took some of the pain away from my head…it made no sense logically…but in my world, I deserved it and I hated myself that much.

So, I did what any other person in my shoes would do. I threw myself into the gym and got to sweating. Yes, the story goes I definitely almost puked doing burpees outside on day 1. God, I had no idea how out of shape I had gotten. And as I applied to every tennis job under the sun, I quickly realized I was in a bad spot and life wasn’t working out. I flew all over the country for interviews just to be “runner up” due to political reasons. The more rejections, the worst I felt…the more time I spent at the gym. Finally, I was bored with it all and began my blog.

Back then, my day literally consisted of going to the gym. Getting coffee. Applying to jobs. Blogging.

Now if you know me today, you have to question this. My schedule today looks something like this — wake up at 6am go to work, hit the gym, play some tennis, work a bit more, go to the beach, get a 5k run in, quick trip to the store, make some dinner, watch a show and bed. Throw in softball games, hikes, 6am 10k runs, volleyball, game nights, concerts, friday nights (say what? yes! I now have a thriving social life!), etc. Like I said, I need more hours in the day!

So what happened in those months. Honestly…for six months I cried a lot. I felt hopeless and sorry for myself. There were many days when I came home and lost it. One day in particular stands out. Maybe I self abused, maybe I didn’t that day. But what I remember was crying and being in so much pain and I said, “Nothing in this world will ever make THIS make sense.” And I believed it. *SPOILER ALERT* Something in this world made it all make sense. And I tear up just writing that. Because honestly, despite always having goals and dreams, I don’t think I ever saw myself where I am today…and maybe that was part of the problem…maybe I never believed enough or maybe I didn’t have enough faith. But I remember on my 30th birthday saying, wow…it all does make sense and it was all worth it and I couldn’t be more thankful for my journey and my struggle if this is where it led me and it makes me so insanely grateful and thankful for every day before me.

I feel like there are so many little stories within a story. And my head is a big jumble of it all. And while some of it really isn’t valid, it all leads me to here.

And I haven’t even hit on why I wanted to start writing again.

I work for a company that is in a word…amazing. They have taken me in like their own and I’m a part of the family. My position allows me to be and thrive as who I am. And my opinion is valued. Like people all over the world actually care about what I have to say about things and value it and even lean on it! With that said, naming myself as a quasi celeb in the tennis world is outright ridiculous. But…truth be told, that’s kind of what we are. As I type, our newest video was uploaded just an hour or two ago and quickly is gaining comments by the minute and will have over 1,000 views by midnight…it’s slightly daunting. With that being said, there are people in this world who suck. Who are insecure and instead of dealing with it, pull other people down. There are some real assholes out there. And lately, those assholes have been getting in my head.

I’ve been called fat. A bitch. A beast. Huge. Ugly. “She has the most talent but is the fattest player I’ve ever seen.” Chubby. Chunky. You name it…I’ve been called it. Most recently I’ve been told I need to stop eating ben and jerrys and that my workouts clearly arent working.

Yea…that shit stays with you. It’s easy for anyone to say those people are just straight up losers or assholes, but that doesn’t erase their words.

So in all honestly, I’ve been noticing that I have been relapsing mentally a bit the past year…that sounds vague. I’ve been dealing with a lot of internal voices and trying to fall in love with the person I am, inside and out. Long story short, I’ve always dealt with disordered eating and body dysmorphia. Ironically, as I dug up some old blog entries, I had documented that at the age of 7 I wrote New Year’s resolutions about “losing weight,” “snacking healthier,” and “exercising more.” At 7.

About a year and a half ago, I met my weight goal I had set. A weight I hadn’t seen since I was 18 when I was spending 4 hours on the court, an hour in the gym and consuming maybe 1000 calories. However, this time when that weight showed on the scale, I had something to go with it — strong, powerful legs that could carry me miles, broad shoulders that could work for hours lifting in the gym, a core that has tightened and experiences that mentally and physically made me stronger.

But, lately, I can’t finish the day unless I’ve sweated through 2 sports bras. My goal weight that I hit is way in the past and I have a new number I’m working toward. Despite dropping well over several sizes in clothes, I want more. So, I’ve always been a hard worker in life and that’s how I go about conquering things. That means, two a days are a norm for me. I spend an hour in the gym and then either another hour on the court and/or an hour or so running or hiking. I try to eat as paleo as possible and as clean as I can most days. I avoid simple carbs, I couldn’t tell you the last time I had a sandwich, I claim not to eat bread…or pasta…I refuse to have flour or sugar in my cabinets. I avoid the bad stuff as much as humanly possible. And after all that, I hate to admit it…but I still don’t like my body. It’s a struggle. And when I have strangers, or people I know make comments about my body, it really doesn’t hurt and I’m desperately searching in my mind for the next thing I can do to somehow “look” fitter, skinnier, better.

I could go on and on about this topic, and I will. It no doubt haunts me on a daily basis. I am consumed with when and what I will do for my workouts and what and when I can eat…it sucks. Somedays I want to give it up, but I refuse to ever go back to someone who weighted well over 250 lbs and thought then she was still an athlete. I am the leanest and strongest I have ever been and I refuse to give up the fight to get leaner and stronger, just some days it isn’t healthy and some days it sucks and some days it’s exhausting, but some days aren’t bad and some days I am proud of myself. But with each day, I know the battle I’m going against and am working on righting my wrongs and making peace with what God has given me to work with. And one day I will find myself to be beautiful. Until then, I will keep moving forward and allowing myself to be human and keep working on being better with each passing day.

I’ll just leave all of that right here for now.

xox