No one turns into who they think will be when they’re a child. Most of us don’t become famous actresses or musicians. Most of us won’t be Olympic athletes. Most of us won’t even come close to being the adult we thought we would turn into. Time moves us along, and it changes us. It molds us into who we eventually become.

I like to think that most choices are up to us, but some things are beyond our scope. We can’t always choose what we will accomplish. Maybe we are predestined or fate does exist. Who knows?

For the most part, I’m happy. I’ve got the family I always wanted. I’ve got a decently nice roof over my head and a car to get around in. Life isn’t a thrill a minute exciting, but it’s steady and upbeat. I’m satisfied and content where I’m at. So, what do I have to gripe about?

The little girl inside of me still wants something more. She wants her writing to mean something and for someone to read it, and go yep I feel that. She wants to be noticed even if she tries hiding. She wants to lose the ‘baby weight’ that has hung on despite the fact that the baby is now three. She wants to travel and let loose and maybe be a little crazy.

Sigh. The reason I keep trudging along and trying to put my words out there is because this is my dream. Not everyone gets to pursue their dream or passion, and I’m lucky that I have the support that allows me to do this. I’m so very lucky to have the life I do, and to be surrounded by people who will not only accept me, but push me.

Where does the weight thing come in? There are always going to be parts of yourself that you aren’t happy with. My thighs clap together, my butt is too round, my boobs sag, etc. You get the idea. I never thought of myself as fat until the last few years. I wasn’t worried about it growing up, and I ate what I wanted to.

When I was going through a bad breakup, I let the anger I felt towards the guy slip into anger at myself. I punished myself and him by eating all of the things he wouldn’t allow me to when we were together. How crappy is that? Someone allowing you to eat certain foods? Ugh. After we broke up, I went to McDonald’s almost every day. I’ll show you, I thought. The only person I hurt through the whole thing was myself. I gained weight steadily.

Eating is an addiction that’s harder than others to escape. You have to eat to live. You can’t just give it up like a bad habit. I eat when I’m happy, I eat when I’m sad, I eat just to validate that I’m alive and kickin’. I hate having to hold myself back.

I have a lot of will power when it comes to certain things. If I say I’m going to write a certain amount of words that day, I usually do it. If I say I’m going to go somewhere, I’m usually there. Food is the one thing I can’t kick. I’m 220 lbs now, and 5 foot five. Yep, not exactly where I want to be BMI wise.

I guess what I’m getting at is that I know that little girl would be so disappointed in me. She would say you’ve got all these other things going for you in your life, why can’t you just beat this one thing? And I don’t know how to answer her. I don’t know how to answer that little voice inside of me that says ‘you don’t need to eat that donut, so why are you?’

Women are rated on appearance. You can poo poo the idea all you want, but it’s the truth. Guys can get by on a bad hair day with a hat, but women still have to try even on their shittiest of days. We are expected to appear as though ‘we have our shit together’ even when we’re at the lowest of the low. Especially moms. Which to me is weird. We have to keep these little humans fed and clothed and happy, and yet we’re expected to look model perfect. But dad can sit around in his boxers and watch tv and everyone’s happy?

I don’t know. I feel like as much as we’ve tried to progress, women are still expected to do it all and look good while doing it. And I’ve fallen behind. My tummy isn’t flat, my boobs are a little saggy, and well my butt… I haven’t looked back there to see how it’s doing, but it could probably use a pick me up.

I want to be healthy for my kids. One of the things I’ll probably blog about on here a good bit is my struggle to find that healthy in between for me. The healthy me that makes me happy, but doesn’t have to reach society norms of ‘skinny’. You tell me, what’s your biggest struggle? What always makes you feel not good enough?

“You wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down.” Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon

Love you all,