Through your eyes.

I had just blown out my hair after my morning shower. Since I have bangs now, that's not where the hair routine stops because my bangs tend to have a mind of their own without my mini straightener and brush. As I flipped my hair upright and looked into the mirror, makeup less, I sighed as I began my hair routine which would lead into the makeup routine. Amelia stopped hopping around our room and looked up at me and said, "Wow, Mommy. You look beautiful." I mindlessly brushed her off since I knew I didn't even have my face on yet and gave my usual thoughtless response of "Aww, thanks, baby."

Later in the day, I thought back to that moment. How do I fail to see myself through Amelia's eyes? Through the eyes of my husband? The eyes of those around me who know me and still love me? Through the eyes of my Father?

If you know me, you know that I've struggled with my weight from a really young age. I guess it didn't help that I had the body of a 16 year old by the time I was 10 while my little itty bitty friends still looked, well, 10. I do remember being blatantly teased a few times because of it. The most hurtful was in 4th grade - to make the story short, elementary school play, music teacher thought it a great idea to buy one sized t-shirts for every girl. That moment did something to my self-esteem... to my heart... to my soul and my spirit.

I started trying to "diet" when I was in 6th grade - never told my parents or anyone else for that matter - just said I wasn't hungry even though I was starving. Those diets never lasted very long and then I would beat myself up for not having enough self control. Vicious cycle that followed me throughout high school on and off since you're unsure of yourself in high school anyway and you're on an emotional roller coaster all. the. time. College wasn't easier since all we did was eat, sleep, and shop (RACHEL LOLOL) and then promise we'd run "later" which was usually never - the Freshmen 15 is no joke. After I left college, I finally worked up the nerve and coughed up the $$ for the membership fee for the gym. Hli and I were dedicated. Chris & I got engaged shortly after and worked my butt off for my wedding dress. And it paid off. Everyone noticed how much weight I lost. Everyone noticed how tiny my waist was. Everyone noticed how slim my face looked. Everyone. I was repeatedly told about how great I now looked since I lost "so much weight."

With my self esteem sky high and my ability to run 2-3 miles every day after work and calorie intake below 1,200 (some days even lower), I was loving it. And then I got married. And then had a baby.

Some people know that I've taken up running / jogging again - I hit 12 miles/week last week (3 miles for 4 days), by the way - yay!! - and I realize that I don't like it as much as I used to, but I keep telling myself that this is what it'll take. Take to do what? Fit into my old jeans? I guess so. Look thinner in our Christmas cards? Yes. haha. But then what?  I read something on Pintrest about how the pursuit of losing weight has to be more than "looking good in clothes (or there's another quote 'Skinny girls look good in clothes, fit girls look good naked')" because ultimately, a lot of people never lose that view of themselves no matter how much weight they'd lose.

The other week, I read this status posted on Facebook by a friend and then this article that my friend shared with me (Read them - they're great) and it spoke volumes of truth to me and even convicted me of the example I was setting for Amelia. My mom never really talked about weight issues with me. She never really told me I was fat. She never really said anything negative about how I looked - my attitude, yes, but never really my looks (except my stubborn-evil stare). My mom actually defended me when other ladies talked about my weight in front of me as if I couldn't hear them - well, she chalked it up to being "big boned," but that wasn't supposed to hurt my feelings right? My aunts talked about my weight though. A lot. So did my grandma. They laughed a few times after making crude comments about me or snickered as I went for a second helping as if I was supposed to just know that they were "joking." These were women that may not have been direct role models to me, but were women who were supposed to be setting some sort of example for me as a woman and somehow had a hand in how I viewed myself. I'm not blaming them exactly (okay, so after reading it, I kind of maybe slightly blaming them), but they had a big hand in how I viewed myself.

They were also the firsts to tell me how great I looked when I dropped the weight before my wedding and then told me to make sure I watch myself because after a baby "you'll go right back to being big again!" Honestly, I dreaded seeing anyone outside of my immediate family after I had Amelia in fear of what they would think about how I looked. Some people might chalk it up to the culture, but I just call it mean.

So having been on a weight-roller coaster for the past 4 years, I slowly started to get back into working out and eating better (working on that part...), but my view of myself still hasn't changed. Some days I still feel like the overly developed 4th grader. I look at Amelia who is completely perfect to me and realize how much she needs to know that she's utterly and completely beautiful no matter what everything else in the world tells her. And that's my responsibility as her mother and role model.

I think all of this was said to come to this point, though - I need to start looking at myself through the eyes of those who know me and love me, like Amelia, like Chris, like my sisters, my family, my friends. And God. I probably am going to continually strive to fit into my old jeans, look magnificent in our Christmas photos, run a little harder and a little farther, but ultimately, I need to strive to see myself through different eyes. The eyes that don't love me any less because I didn't put on makeup, or can't fit into my wedding dress anymore, or didn't run hard enough this morning. Those eyes are the eyes that should matter more than the eyes that see the last 10 lbs that won't budge, that see the 3 miles I missed last week, or the chocolate bomb that I consumed mindlessly (You have to have one, though!).

I'm not saying that fitness and health aren't important. I think I have a responsibility to make sure I am taking care of the body I have been given, but I have to make sure I'm also taking care of the heart and soul that I've been given. In doing so, I hope I'm also instilling in Amelia a spirit that loves herself no matter what negatives are thrown at her because she knows that there are more important eyes who see her worth.

Friendships

We spent the entire weekend together - all 3 of us - from Friday afternoon until late afternoon on Monday. Its kind of a big deal as those kinds of weekends are few and in-between lately unless we're out of town (so Chris has no choice haha), but we somehow scored that this past weekend. Yesterday, we got to have a nice, long & long-overdue lunch with some old friends who were in town from SF for the week. Chris has known Arliss and Celeste for years and I was grandfathered into the deal, haha. It was nice to catch up and Amelia finally got to meet Uncle Arliss.

I don't know if our lunch spurred it, but I had a dream last night. It was a little weird, but if you know me well, you know that I have bizzaro dreams anyway. Bear with me. Anyway, an old friend I used to be pretty close to ended up deliberately backstabbing me in this dream. I knew I was dreaming at this point, but it didn't stop the heartbreak that I felt even within the dream.

I woke up thinking about this old friend and about how we've grown really far apart. I don't even let her know when I'm in town when I go back to MN anymore. I don't know why. I guess in a way, I almost chalk it up to "We're in different life stages now and it might be awkward." Its weird because we used to be able to talk about anything, and now, I'm pretty sure we're not even Facebook friends (I know, the gage to everything. Those who know me really well might start looking through my Facebook friends list to see if its you, HAHA). I don't really know what happened and I guess on a certain level, I'm a little afraid to find out the why's and how's.

I remember someone once telling me a long time ago - about my little group of friends - how most people will grow out of a friendship, just like some relationships. How "it just happens," and "you'll see." I remember how upset that made me and how I didn't imagine then how life could ever get in the way of us being there for each other or even us staying the same. Did he jinx me? Cause somehow, it happened. I can't pinpoint where, but it did somewhere along the way.

When I got married and moved out to SoCal, I thought about my old friends whom I didn't really even have that much contact with while I was planning my wedding and remember telling myself, well, here's a new chapter and we're probably all just busy with where we're at now. It didn't lessen the hurt, but it made me think that in some way, I was forgiving them for "not being there." Our friendship went through boyfriends, other friends, high school, teenage stuff, etc. but somehow changed as we broadened our horizons for ourselves.

I get that people change, grow up. We're all free to do so. And encouraged to do so. And called to do so. But I can't help but think that maybe I didn't try hard enough to make the friendship last while we were both changing. I envy people I know who have long time friends who have grown with each other or can pick up where they left off.

The dream I had last night made me think that maybe I wasn't fully "over" how or even what happened and maybe even haven't forgiven her for things that she might not even be aware of. I have no doubt that she might see this. And she might know it's her. But I'm okay with that now. And I'm working on forgiving her. And myself.

Our friendship got me through a lot and even if just for that little moment in time, we were friends and it was great. And I think we both know that even now, if we really needed one another, we'd never say no.

I asked for it.

Kind of funny - 5 friends from church approached me and told me they are now following my blog - I should have expected that, but it almost feels like added pressure (lol). What did I expect when I announced publicly on Facebook that I was returning to the blog-osphere? Not really sure, to be honest, but here I am.

Like I've said before, this is the umpteenth time that I've tried to blog. I've realized that what stopped my blogging before was my inability to be honest with anyone reading and ultimately, myself. I feared that if I was too personal, it would be... well, too personal... and OMG what if I ended up offending someone whom I didn't think read my blog, but did? Should I apologize? Should I only blog "hypothetical" situations that actually did happen? Or those blog posts that are passive aggressively vague? What if, what if, what if... so I blogged about chipper things. Actual things, but kept it strictly chipper. And boring. And I couldn't do it anymore. Ultimately,  it wasn't about "the little one letting me"... I just couldn't bore myself any longer with trying to be the chipper-blogger-mom that I clearly am not (no offense to any chipper-blogger-moms out there). I'm terrible with uploading pictures (unless they're selfies - I admit I like my good hair days, okay? & of Amelia HAHA), have some issues with follow-through (duh), sometimes ramble, etc. so I figured, what's the point?

And now, I just want to be honest. Even if it feels like I'm walking around completely exposed at times (I won't, let me just promise you that right now) I do owe it to myself in that regard. I do admit that in trying to be more honest on this blog makes me feel a little embarrassed with my friends whom I'll see in person after a post, LOL, but again, what did I expect?

A couple friends told me today that they could identify with my previous post, and I'm really glad. I was reminded that regardless of how crazily alone I feel at times, we're connected in some way, shape, or form and what I struggle with isn't anything new. And ultimately, that I'll come out of whatever funk I get into because ultimately, there's Someone who is bigger than that funk. Sometimes we even come out the other side somehow stronger and wiser and we don't even realize we've already made it and have no idea how we got through, but we did.

Why are we so hard on ourselves?

I often wonder if I'm a good enough wife, a good enough mom, a good enough sister, daughter, friend, and mostly, a "good enough" Christian. There. I said it. Is that... okay?

Chris and I love our church and we love SoCal. This year has been such a growing year for the both of us as individuals as God speaks to us through the people around us and facilitates our moments and relationships. But. I sometimes feel like I somehow don't belong. I look around at my friends who yell less at their 2 year olds, allow their kids to get dirty because that's what kids do, spank their 2 year old less, keep their houses spotless, cook gourmet meals for their husbands to come home to, gets angry at said husband less, are gracious with forgiveness, who probably speaks less bluntly to a hurting sister who isn't asking for advice - just an ear, an auntie who calls more often, works out on a regular basis and is able to lose the "baby weight (does it still count as 'baby weight' even after 2 1/2 years? lol)," able to count calories and only cheat on "cheat days," can teach their 2 year olds to eat more than just rice with eggs or 'mov nste dlej' (rice with water) - like a grilled cheese sandwich (Who doesn't eat grilled cheese sandwiches?! Amelia doesn't!) etc. and I'm scared of how ashamed I would be if they found out. If they knew that I struggle to be all of the above. And a lot of times, I don't even come close. It is. So. Hard.

Tomorrow, I'll play with Amelia more, I say. Or, tomorrow I'll yell less, I'll be more gracious, I won't nag when Chris gets home, I'll listen more than I speak, I'll be kinder, I'll smile more, etc. and sometimes it works, but mostly, it doesn't. How do I come up as inadequate so often?

This all sounds depressing, doesn't it? Debbie downer, much? Don't get me wrong, I have an amazing life and I do love it, but these moments creep up on me from time and time and I'm almost left gasping for air as I flail around like a drowning victim. 

I know I'm not alone in feeling like this (...right?). But sometimes it feels like I am. 

And I know, I know, Jesus came to right all of these things in me. The Spirit intercedes on my behalf. God the Father chose to love me regardless of those things that are so shameful that I just can't do. I remember that. But what about the days where it feels like... complete failure anyway?


I realize there's a price to wanting to be more committed to blogging - like total honesty. So honestly... why are we so hard on ourselves?

I'm back. I think.

So I've been thinking about coming back to blogging. I've thought about it for awhile. I used to think "Um, who's going to read about my life anyway?" but as of late, I've realized that it's not about who's reading or not reading this. It's about me. It's about me being able to be honest with myself through writing again or just recording a certain day for myself. Would I love to be able to share that with other people? Sure. I won't promise that this won't be a blog about the cutest girl I've ever seen (Amelia... not me... well, me, too haha) because she's my heart or that this won't be about my hubby who stresses me out "occasionally," but loves me to the core even after our honeymoon phase wore out (we're out of that phase when bodily functions go off without a flinch right? LOL), but it'll be jumbled pieces of me... the struggles that my mind often wrestles with when Amelia is napping or even when she's just playing quietly with her Legos (which is RARE - the quiet part, not the Legos), the joys that I often overlook during them until they've already passed, or just the random-ness that I may step into time after time. Whatever it is, this is for me, but if you check in from time to time, I'm glad you're here.

Guilty as Charged...

*sigh* I'm a terrible blogger. *hangs head in shame*

I have much catching up to do. As soon as the little one lets me.

Come on, sis-thoe!

I miss my sisters.

At some point, you realize that you are nothing without the ones who love you with everything that they are.