How I Truly Became Comfortable In My Body

The Lace Appeal and Brooklyn Boudoir.jpeg

p.s. I am writing this, to you, with a plate filled with McDonald's chicken nuggets and my favourite spicy mayo concoction. Oh, let's not forget the wine glass filled with water.

It's been one whole year since I began body transformation 2.0. I know this because both Facebook and my phone did the honours of reminding me. Reluctantly, I took a look at my before pictures and couldn't believe it's only been ONE year. Thankfully, so much has changed. I looked at those pictures feeling sorry for the lost girl posing with the minimal strength she had. She's a fighter even through the stress. Unfortunately, in stressful situations, that same girl is down to indulge in some nachos + guac. It became really easy to put on a few extra pounds. Especially with an inconsistent, non-existent, workout schedule. I was too busy touring the most fabulous lingerie boutiques in the US.

When I lived in Los Angeles, it was super easy to get caught up in the health-crazed lifestyle. Ya pretty much can find a pressed juice or green filled salad at almost every single food location. There are gyms practically posted on every corner like Starbucks in New York City. Eating more than three bites in public is sinful. And let's not forget that the overwhelming "Hollywood" pressure of being skinny, that even a nobody like me can feel from a mile away.

I feel like a little back story is needed here:

Before moving out to the Best... *cough*cough*... I mean, West Coast I spent a year studying and living in Memphis, TN. Aka "The South" where everything is deep fried and made with extra love. Pretty sure there was never a time I left my plate empty. Everything was so freaking tasty I couldn't contain myself. The problem I faced the former college athlete metabolism didn't keep up, and I went from a size 6 to a 12.

It wasn't long before gave into that "skinny pressure" and found myself chugging green juices filled with vegetables that I couldn't even pronounce. Even hired myself a personal trainer to whip my ass right back into shape. Ya know because I "had" to fit in. There was A LOT of attention that came along with my weight loss. Because that's the society, we live in, that the only thing women really have to offer is a pretty face and a hot bod. Right?

"oh my god, you look AH-MAZING."

"where has that bod been hiding?"

"you're like, really pretty."

Can't lie- I absolutely adored the attention. What girl in their early twenties wouldn't? But the more attention I got, the harder I would indulge in the fitness and diet realm — kind of addictive in a weird, fucked up way. Quite pathetic, if we're being honest here.

It now makes sense as to why I not only gained it all back, plus a few extra pounds, after leaving LA. With the pressure stopped, and the validations dwindled- nothing was holding me accountable. There was a point where I hated myself for letting it happen...again. For not respecting all those times, I devoured a green juice or pulled myself out of bed half hungover to workout. I hated my body and the way I looked. I hated that I couldn't fit into my clothes — I could continue, but I'll just sum it up with saying there was a lot of fucking hate. And I didn't want to feel that way anymore.

I thought by rejoining Crossfit paired with a nifty diet regime, all the hate would go away and all my problems would be solved. #OperationSizeFour


So, I started all over again- but the results couldn't come fast enough, the weight couldn't come off quick enough. I had to push harder and harder. Not once did I take a moment to appreciate the journey, to appreciate all the things my body was capable of doing. I know this sounds sappy as fuck, but it's so fucking true. I WAS A TOTAL BITCH TO MYSELF. Judging myself on every bit of pudge I had. The truth is, I never stopped to consider what I WANT and how I FEEL best. It was all about living up to societal expectations- because I didn't want to be left out.

How fucking fucked up is that?

So, I decided to pivot and make a change.

No joke, I literally did this. Took off all of my clothes, stood in front of my floor length mirror and from a place of honesty, asked myself: what makes you feel beautiful?

Because for me, I am NEVER happy and whole when I am walking in someone else's expectations.

The generic answer is to be happy and healthy simultaneously. Period, end of sentence. It's essential to recognize every single person reading this will have a different perception of those words. And it's beautiful because there is no right or wrong answer. For me, it's finding that 50/50 mental/physical balance. There are days where both my body and mind tell me it's time for a workout. Other times they tell me it's time for a break and doughnut filled with Nutella and sprinkles.

It's taken me a hot second to get to this place where I don't feel compelled to meet societal beauty standards. And hope no one reading this has gone through a similar journey. But if you have, here are a few tips:

Enjoy your body in every possible way. Listen to your body; for it will tell you what it needs. Dance butt naked before starting your day. Sleep naked or minimal clothing. Treat your self to the ice cream or 20 piece chicken nuggets, eat the salad too. Define what the fuck makes you happy and go live by it.