Wearing: Natori Feathers 3/4 Balconette (34C)
Something super weird happened to me a few weeks ago. It all went down during my morning ritual preparing for my 20-step commute work. Taking a few moments to brush my teeth, wash my face attempting to look semi-presentable. Not like I had just rolled out of bed or anything. Might as well add, my mood was becoming desperate for a cup of iced coffee with a dash of coconut creamer. Who am I kidding? A hefty pour of coconut creamer, let me not pretend I am all healthy with my morning cup of joe. There are some moments in life where you have to say no to the healthier choice. Anywho. Just as I was finished smearing my favorite m-61 moisturizer all over my face, it hit me. I could not recognize my own fucking reflection. Not even kidding, it was one of the most surreal and scariest situations of my life. Sounds dramatic, but I am telling the truth. Maybe it had to do with the fact I haven't had a proper mirror in my room for the past six months. But seriously, it freaked me out. My hair was a hot, humid, curly frizzy mess. My face was puffy and swollen, with bags under my eyes. And I was wearing an old t-shirt from high school with leggings that were so damn tight. If I had squatted there would have been a 50/50 chance the seams would have busted wide open along the inner thigh. Pretty sure I just described the definition of a hot mess, and it was me.
Who was this fucking girl staring back at me?
Que Christina Aguilera, singing the song from Mulan.
For some God forsaken reason. I thought it would be an excellent idea to step on the scale; which is something I NEVER do. In fact, the biggest piece of advice I give ladies on their weight loss journey is to ditch the scale. It's just a number that you will constantly obsess over. More importantly, you'll lose the joy of the whole process. So why I looked is beyond me. Pretty sure the last time I ever stepped foot on one of those things was at a doctors appointment that took place last year. It was a dumb move. Because the number blinking at me was plus thirtyish pounds. My heart literally sank deep into my stomach. And it took everything in me to not have a full-fledged meltdown on the bathroom floor. I peeked into the mirror again. Double checking that I wasn't hallucinating or something. There it was, my hot mess of a reflection. I looked exhausted, run down and in serious need of some tweezers. My question became, what the fuck happened and where did everything go wrong?
This year has been one hell of a ride. Similar to a fucking roller coaster with all of the ups, downs, twists, and turns. I thought back to this time last year when I was happy. Things were easy, fun, and new. I was living in London, studying lingerie design planning trips to Santorini and Ibiza (does life really get much better than that?). Oh, and I was in the best shape of my entire life. And confident in my new career change. Life was good, and I was in the driver's seat.
Honestly, I'm not exactly sure when or how I lost that feeling of excitement. But I do know that it's not worth investing the time nor energy in trying pinpoint the exact moment. For the first time in my life, I've just accepted these things will happen. No over dramatic meltdowns of why I suck or how I could have done things differently. One simple step at a time. I hear that slow and steady wins the race and perfection is just a figment of the imagination. Things aren't always unicorns and rainbows and six-pack abs. Sometimes life is the extra slice of pizza and a Netflix binge. Somewhere on this journey, I seemed to have lost the wheel. Despite all of the planning and preparation that went into each blog post. Promises, deadlines, and ideas became words rather than actions or commitments. The products no longer fit me, and how could I write a reliable and informative review? Needless to say, I was pretty far down the rabbit hole desperate for a major lifestyle change.
Change is not always a bad thing. I like to look at is like a mental growth spurt and evolving into a new chapter of life. When thinking of all the uncertainties can make the concept a little weary. But why continue to go along with the same old routine when it no longer makes you happy? Or maybe you just stopped doing the things that made you happy, which is an easier fix. Either way, start by taking inventory or your daily routine. Where is there a glitch in the system and where can you start adding positives and remove negatives?
If you're not sure what makes your heart sing, there is no need to fret. Start making a list of things you might be interested in:
Is it going to the gym?
Is it bird watching?
Is it calling your mom more often?
Is it finally joining that pottery class?
Is it reading more books?
Whatever it is, there is no right or wrong answer here.
For me, recommitting to CrossFit was number one on my priority list. The workouts are intense, but I loved the results. Let's face it. When you look good, you feel good. And as Elle Woods once said, endorphins make you happy. Every day I strive to create new changes to relight the fire. It's all one can do, right?
I guess what I am trying to say here is it's never too late to start over. Your happiness, your health, and your heart are always worth fighting for.