“I am so much more than my body.”

Jenna Kutcher is my hero.

I didn’t even know who she was last week but that's
the funny thing about life;
Miracles in the Mundane are everywhere.

Jenna and I lead wildly different lives, and
I'll probably never meet her in real life, but she
reminded me to believe the truth of who I
am and I am so very grateful.

Her story of being body shamed went viral and in this article she explains
that someone messaged  her and told her they
were shocked “she {a "curvy" woman}
could land a husband like “Mr. 6 pack”.  
Part of her response to the troll was,
“I am so much more than my body…”

When I read these words I started crying. Those
words, which I have heard before,
have been lost lately and I needed to put them
back out front.

I have struggled with body image my whole life.

{I wrote about it in this post and if you
read it you will the same stories that I am telling in this post....hmmm.
Maybe I need some more therapy for this issue?}

I have an early memory--I was probably
4 or 5 years old-- of a lady at church calling
me a Pillsbury Dough Girl.
While there is cuteness involved with that
sweet little giggle, I am pretty sure
that it wasn’t because of that; probably because
she would poke my tummy while saying it…

My middle school years started my obsession
with sizes. I didn’t understand then {or now!}

that the number didn’t really matter--the fit did.
I cringe at the times I probably stuffed myself into a 10 when
I should have been in a 12 or 14.
At one stage of my up and down

size cycle I was able to buy a pair of the much
coveted Guess brand jeans that were
in fashion. I also remember when I couldn’t fit into
them anymore and finding out
that Guess jeans weren’t made in my size.

In my desperation to fit into the fashion scene and in
my desperation to ignore who I really was,
I literally *cut* the Guess symbol out of my
too small of jeans and sewed it onto a pair of

non-brand jeans that fit.

High school also brought one of my most
painful memories. Some very mean boys at school
“mooed” at me in the cafeteria.
I was carrying my tray of food back to my

table and they mooed. The humiliating pain
of that moment still haunts me today.

{I wish it didn't, but alas, scars from our
youth never really go away...}

I never had a boyfriend in high school. I didn’t go to
my proms. I didn’t date much at all throughout
my 20’s. This was not my choice.
I desperately wanted someone to like me and
I was convinced that it was because I was too
fat to date and that I wasn’t worthy
of being in relationship.

I could go on and on about all the highs and lows of
my weight issues, but I won’t. Many of the
experiences I’ve described continue to be a part
of my story. It might not be as tangible as a
“cute” poke of a finger to my belly or a moo
in the cafeteria but I struggle daily with how I look.

That being said, however, my journey is also
filled with light and
healing in my places of pain.

Countless people have shown me
through the years that I am definitely so much more
than my body. Jenna's post helped remind
me of the fact
that I truly believe this and
it is so freeing. I know that there are
many, many places of joy that shape who I am
and I am deeply grateful
for all the light and love in my life;
no matter my jeans size.

I Quit.

They say that there is often truth to jokes. The art of "joking around" allows us to say things we might be thinking but since we're only joking, it's not truth. 

{Yeah, right.}

Today, being April Fools' Day caused me to "joke" around about a very tempting idea...quitting my job.

Sadly, money is our main means to any end, so I sorta need to stay employed, but

believe you me if I had the chance, I would be very, very, very tempted to quit teaching and do..........

{well, do ANYTHING but teach....!}

I put this on my board today and it led me to what I like to call "An After School Special" 

talk with my kids.

When I told them that I was quitting, I heard gasps and words like "WHAT?" and

 "NO MISS! YOU CAN'T!!" thrown my direction. 

It was kind of awesome.

{See! They really would miss me! ha.}

 After soaking in their disappointment that I would be leaving them, 

I told them I was 

only joking. 

I then went on to explain that my joking around is also my plea to them that they can't quit either. That they cannot, they MUST not quit in these last days of being an 8th grader. I told them to treat the idea of quitting as an April Fools' Day joke. It can't happen.

 I told them that there are roads they are choosing to travel if they quit or not. The length and amount of road blocks on their given road depends on their attitude towards quitting.

 I begged and pleaded for them not to quit on me now. I told them that THIS is their time to shine and that THIS is the time to really give it their all.

{A teacher can dream! 8 weeks, baby!}

All this got me thinking about other places in my life that I want to "quit". 

I am so very, very tempted to quit thinking about the ramifications of my spiritual perspective/journey right now. I am not fully sure what to do with the shift happening in my soul, and it's causing me to want to quit and not deal with any of it. I want to numb myself from figuring out the reality of what my childhood faith looks like versus today's faith.  It's very overwhelming and frustrating. 
I don't feel like I see a point to any of it. 

I am tempted to quit working on and figuring out my weight issues. I have struggled all my life with weight and how I look.  I know the positive ways to get myself together physically, I've done them! But I feel so disappointed with the inconsistent results and the high level of attention my weight goals require that I want to quit. I, again, feel overwhelmed and frustrated with the abundance of "things I should be doing" and the guilt I feel when I don't do what I should be doing and know to do. 
It becomes too much and I want to quit. 

I am tempted to quit furthering my professional development and figure out "what I want to be when I grow up." Obviously teaching isn't hitting all the strides I thought it would, but am I being completely unrealistic in thinking that there is such a thing as  a "perfect dream job"? Probably. But it feels, yup, overwhelming and frustrating to figure out what causes me to have passion, excitement and joy that could lead me to find the stride I crave.

All of these things are my "issues" right now and I know I am in a space of being overwhelmed. But as I gave my "After School Special" spiel, I felt myself shift. I knew that really my only choice is to take my own advice: 

Don't quit. 

I need to gain perspective of what my "road" is and what it looks like for me. Is it a short road  with lots of road blocks; 

or is it one that will allow me to shine and grow? 

I am in the midst of finding the latter, and this is only because I know that I am not alone.

 I know I have a whole bunch of cheerleaders and support systems  in place that won't let me quit. I just need to listen to them and use them. I need to recognize miracles when I see them and use that as hope that I am going to be okay because the truth is that this life thing?

Yeah, it's no joke.

#9: A picture that makes you nervous...

I have dreaded #9 from the list, so I want to get it out of the way...

Yup. Bathroom scales make me nervous.

Actually, I'm not sure that nervous fully captures my feelings with scales...maybe it's more like stressed, frustrated, disappointed in myself, embarrassed and just overall bleh...

I have struggled with weight issues my whole life. When I was a kid, a little old church lady used to call me a "Pillsbury dough kid". Nice. In high school, a group of mean, mean boys mooed at me as I walked past them. This particular incident certainly scarred me. I cringe and shrink inside just thinking about it...

I chose to deal with scales on a more regular basis when I joined Weight Watchers (WW) in 2010. I was pretty hopeful that my battle with food and issues surrounding my weight would have some resolve while participating in the WW program. This didn't happen the way I dreamed it would.

I sat through many, many meetings bawling because the scale showed the (+) sign next to the still very large number. It seemed like those around me were losing weight and celebrating the gift the scale gave them each week. I never quite got over being a nervous wreck at weigh ins week after week. During this fairly long stint with WW I lost about 30 pounds. This was great, but it was only 30 pounds...I needed to lose SO much more...ugh.

What WW did do for me is bring many of my food issues to the surface. Knowing is half the battle, right? Right. But, man. Issues with weight and food cause such vulnerability. It's scary to face the real reasons why we do things that are unhealthy. It's difficult to admit that we can't control things like we think we can. It's maddening to know ways out of unhealthy patterns yet not do them.

I am still on this very long road of dealing with all of this. There may be a day when I am not riddled with nerves, stress or frustration when I get on a scale, but this hasn't happened quite yet.

Posting on this topic makes me nervous...I should have taken a picture of the "Publish" button on my blog page...but for me, writing about stuff like this makes me face obstacles I fear. It's therapeutic to "get it out there". It also helps me know that I am not alone. We all have "stuff", I know this...making my "stuff" more public is a way for me to face it with more rigor. I know I have to get my act together and face my issues with weight. WW helped me open up some facets of it all, I just need to push myself to face more.

Thanks for allowing me to have a therapy session here with this blog. Thanks for helping me know I am not alone...none of us are. Thank Goodness.