“An acquaintance merely enjoys your company, a fair-weather companion flatters when all is well, a true friend has your best interests at heart and the pluck to tell you what you need to hear.”
- E. A. Bucchianeri (Brushstrokes of a Gadfly)
OK. Let me start by saying that I wrote this a few weeks ago. I was fed up with myself. I still am. I felt I needed some tough love. And I still do. But I am realizing that I need to be gentle with myself. This post is rather harsh. Not my normal thing. I thought of deleting it. Not posting it. So many people are going though much more difficult struggles than I. But I also realize that it is all relative. This is my personal struggle...and I have chosen to let you in to some of it all. So...it is with a little hesitancy that I post this. It is really a "note to self", rather than anything that should be internalized by anyone else. Love yourself. Love your body. Love life. I am trying my best. This is just part of my story...
Writers are good at story telling.
We give a good line...sell a plot...articulate a point.
But like good actors, who can delve into a character so far they seem to blur the line between what is real and what is pretend, writers can cover themselves with their words...telling others and themselves things over and over enough times that even they start to believe it themselves.
But I don't lie.
I just chose to write about what I want to write about and share what I want to share like any other writer or blogger.
Well today...I am pissed at myself.
And because I am pissed, I am writing to get it out.
And I am doing it here on my blog...not even sure if I will ever actually publish it. The feelings and thoughts are just here at the surface...stumbling from my brain to my heart...through my veins to my hands...shooting out of the tips of my fingers on to my keyboard and splattering all over my computer screen.
It sounds so much more poetic when writers speak of thoughts moving from inside of them to pen and then to paper...but this is a blog and this post ain't gonna be anywhere close to poetic or butterflies or flowers or peace or joy or violins or even kittens or warm, woollen mittens.
I am not even gonna put a picture from The Sound of Music here with a cute little caption like I normally would because of my little reference to Maria's song about her favourite things there at the end of my last sentence.
This is pure stream-of-consciousness writing peeps and I have a feeling it ain't gonna be pretty...so be forewarned.
I try to make this blog a positive, happy place for you to visit...but today I am giving myself a little tough love.
If this is your first visit here...please explore my past posts. Because this one is gonna be out of character.
So...no pictures...no silly, little captions...no frills...no chills...no thrills.
Here she goes.
Stop dicking around and yakkity yakking about pushing yourself and getting frickin' healthy and get off your fat ass girl!
Yes. That's right. I am frickin' fat.
Not curvy. Not pleasantly plump.
I'm fat. And I hate my body.
And maybe "hate" is not the right word.
Perhaps "disrespect" is better.
But either way, being fat is not healthy and I am not gonna dance around the facts.
If you are also fat, dear reader, I am sorry if I offend. But obesity is just plain bad news.
And this is not about you. It's about me.
(But then again...if I did hit a nerve...maybe not. Just putting that out there.)
And I did this to myself. I had three kids. I had an accident that rendered me unable to move for a while.
La, la, frickity la!
Shut the front door and shut the frick up while you're at it you whiny, little beeyotch!
I told you...this ain't gonna be pretty.
And neither am I.
Do you think I am being hard on myself?
Well of course I am...that is one of my great faults...but ya now what else?
I get to choose the photos of myself that go on this blog. And do you think there is a single one of me first thing in the morning...no make-up, no hair combing, no pretty lighting, no nothing?
And do you see any full body shots (no not the tequila on the belly kind!) of me hanging out in my bathing suit?
And do ya think I'm gonna go all out here and post one now?
Because I don't like the way I look.
Pretty make-up and great lighting can make anyone look lovely in a picture.
And even I admit that on a really good day, I can clean up OK - even in the flesh - if I spend some quality time on the smoke and mirrors and Spanx.
But strip me down to the bare bones and I am not liking what I see at all.
So stop frickin' talking about it already. Stop comforting yourself with complex frickin' carbs after the kids go to bed. Do a push-up already!
Move...move...move your fat ass until it isn't fat anymore!
You have done it before and you can do it again.
Do what it takes.
Make a real commitment.
Change your lifestyle.
In a nutshell?
(Ha! I said "nutshell" and "balls"! Man oh man! Ha! Nuts...balls...man...get it!??!? Frick! Can I not have ONE blog post without the need to digress? Nope. Guess not. But I digress...)
I told you recently that I needed an intervention...and some tough love...so here I am.
Stop using that "tomorrow will be better" line because guess what sister? Tomorrow will NEVER, EVER arrive.
It is ALWAYS today.
And that is the only way you are ever going to reach your goal.
By doing it TODAY.
And ya might as well smile while you do it cause at least your smile is kinda nice.
That much I can say.
You gotta pretty smile.
So here are some more.
(Lots of) Smiles,