Things just got real, peeps. Okay they've been real for quite some time, but dang, they just got really real. I was trying to be adult-like and make sure we had the proper level of life insurance for our family, as the big 40 rolls in this month. Guess what? I got rejected - yep, rejected due to my weight/build. No talking to my doctor, no taking my stats and testing my blood and pee. They decided purely on weight and build. Hmmm... okay God, it was amusing last week when you gave me fresh content for my planned Faith Friday series on hard things, but this week I was pretty sure I had the cycle of defeat topic covered. Guess not.
So I'm short. I'm not petite and dainty. I'm short and a plus mama. I can remember being an average weight in my youth years, but that pretty much ended when I hit adolescence. Past 12, it was ALWAYS a struggle. Looking back, it was probably tied to the imbalanced hormones and insulin resistance of PCOS, plus the intense cravings for carbohydrates and sugar that came along with that, but I didn't figure that out until way later in life when I struggled with infertility and was officially diagnosed with PCOS shortly after marriage.
Now in the bliss of my 39th year, I'm a creature of habit (bad habits) and sighing in the cycle of defeat yet again. I know healthy is possible, because I've done it a few times. I was a swimmer long long ago and maintained a healthy weight for me, yes, still a little thicker but healthy for me. Then with the infertility, I did Clomid, Glucophage and the South Beach diet and dropped a bunch of weight and boom there was Roo boy. Praise be. Before my hysterectomy last year, I was a hot mess with PCOS symptoms. I had totally let self care go for far too long. Glucophage and diet once again to the rescue and by the time I went into surgery, weight was down and symptoms in better control, setting me up to heal better.
See peeps, I know it's possible, so why do I continue to slip back into old habits and comfort eat? If I knew, I'd be in skinny jeans. I know something triggers my eating, and I'm working to identify those things and learn to love exercise, but right now, I don't. I hate it, passionately. I always have. I hate sweat, and I love bread. I once read - own your sweat, you've earned it. Um, yuck. Swimming was the only thing I ever loved, so back to the pool I go. Only I might need a refresher on that side breathing thing, because I panic now. Panic! How does someone forget how to breathe?!
I also hate how the cycle of defeat makes me feel. I hate it as much as the sweat. Maybe I need to learn to hate it MORE than sweat. I got a kick in the gut late last year. My baby girl got diagnosed with a metabolic syndrome that has some insulin resistance to it. I'm so thankful that it was caught now and not later, but at the same time, my heart fell. No mama wants her babies to have struggles, let alone the same struggles you had growing up. We want better for our children. I shudder to think quite possibly she might have to struggle through some sort of reproductive disorder later too. The deck is kind of stacked against her. I pray with lifestyle changes now, the future is bright for her.
When we found this news out early last fall, it put a fire under me. There's no sugar in our house. Only Swerve and stevia. Our meals only include healthier choices like brown rice, yams and beans in the carbs department. We have encouraged the heck out of baby girl's desire to swim competitively and she just got enrolled in dance as well. I want her to love to sweat, peeps, and I want her to have a healthier lifestyle forever. Let's build the foundation now.
So what about all that... do as I say, not as I do? Well, you're meeting me right where I am, peeps. I admit, I'm struggling. I should be SHOWING baby girl through actions, and I do most of the time with the food, but I'm struggling with letting go of the sweet tea once in awhile, the fries once is awhile, the M&Ms once in awhile. Hello girl, water, water is a great beverage, right?! Hey, put some "move it" in your giddy up. A walk, a stroll, have you heard of those? I'm so busy worrying about everyone else, I worry about MY unhealthy food and exercise relationship last. I back burner myself.
In the last few years, I'm finally happy in my own skin in so many ways. I'm unapologetically me. I smile in pictures, and I mean that smile. I'm blissfully happy with the woman I am, and it feels awesome. There is no longer someone running around in my head saying, "girls like you don't." I've kick her and her negative self talk to the curb. The weight isn't something that I allow to make me feel less than anymore (and I did for a REALLY long time), but that doesn't mean I don't care about it and don't want to be healthier. I do, and for oh so many reasons. It's just my self worth isn't in that mix anymore. I know I'm worthy of God's love and all He has in store for me, no matter my size. I matter. I'm capable. I deserve delightstuck everything, and you do too.
Yes, I've struggled with food, my weight and self-image most of my life, but that doesn't define me. Yes, I've given up on diets more times than I can count. That doesn't define me either. I have felt the stirrings of wanting wellness for sometime now. I know I've let the excuses win far too long. Finding my own personal wellness was a #39adventures list item. I didn't quite get there this past year, but I took baby steps and my eyes are opening more and more every day. Maybe I'm finally ready to conquer this hurdle in my life... just maybe.
Baby girl and the darn insurance people are catalysts. I've gotta get a handle on this. I've got to stop the cycle of defeat once and for all. I want to be around for my kids and Coach Man. I don't want to always be tired. I'd really would like to embrace sweat. I want to move to feel good, not necessarily be tiny. I want to say SO THERE, insurance peeps.
So yep - I'm on a path to discovering what wellness means to me, and I pep talk myself every morning to move it more and fuel up with things that don't sabotage my system. I'm taking baby steps, and praying they become full strides here very quickly. I'm finding I have to pencil in time for me (just like that time for prayer), or it's just not going to happen. I'm taking heart in Romans 8:37 as my battle cry: "...conquerors through him who loved us." Yes, conquerors. It's in us. Maybe we just need a little of Him to help pull it out.
As my sweet friend Katy said to me just yesterday, "Everyone is on a journey." Indeed, we all are. Welcome to mine.
- Jen
Now in the bliss of my 39th year, I'm a creature of habit (bad habits) and sighing in the cycle of defeat yet again. I know healthy is possible, because I've done it a few times. I was a swimmer long long ago and maintained a healthy weight for me, yes, still a little thicker but healthy for me. Then with the infertility, I did Clomid, Glucophage and the South Beach diet and dropped a bunch of weight and boom there was Roo boy. Praise be. Before my hysterectomy last year, I was a hot mess with PCOS symptoms. I had totally let self care go for far too long. Glucophage and diet once again to the rescue and by the time I went into surgery, weight was down and symptoms in better control, setting me up to heal better.
See peeps, I know it's possible, so why do I continue to slip back into old habits and comfort eat? If I knew, I'd be in skinny jeans. I know something triggers my eating, and I'm working to identify those things and learn to love exercise, but right now, I don't. I hate it, passionately. I always have. I hate sweat, and I love bread. I once read - own your sweat, you've earned it. Um, yuck. Swimming was the only thing I ever loved, so back to the pool I go. Only I might need a refresher on that side breathing thing, because I panic now. Panic! How does someone forget how to breathe?!
I also hate how the cycle of defeat makes me feel. I hate it as much as the sweat. Maybe I need to learn to hate it MORE than sweat. I got a kick in the gut late last year. My baby girl got diagnosed with a metabolic syndrome that has some insulin resistance to it. I'm so thankful that it was caught now and not later, but at the same time, my heart fell. No mama wants her babies to have struggles, let alone the same struggles you had growing up. We want better for our children. I shudder to think quite possibly she might have to struggle through some sort of reproductive disorder later too. The deck is kind of stacked against her. I pray with lifestyle changes now, the future is bright for her.
When we found this news out early last fall, it put a fire under me. There's no sugar in our house. Only Swerve and stevia. Our meals only include healthier choices like brown rice, yams and beans in the carbs department. We have encouraged the heck out of baby girl's desire to swim competitively and she just got enrolled in dance as well. I want her to love to sweat, peeps, and I want her to have a healthier lifestyle forever. Let's build the foundation now.
So what about all that... do as I say, not as I do? Well, you're meeting me right where I am, peeps. I admit, I'm struggling. I should be SHOWING baby girl through actions, and I do most of the time with the food, but I'm struggling with letting go of the sweet tea once in awhile, the fries once is awhile, the M&Ms once in awhile. Hello girl, water, water is a great beverage, right?! Hey, put some "move it" in your giddy up. A walk, a stroll, have you heard of those? I'm so busy worrying about everyone else, I worry about MY unhealthy food and exercise relationship last. I back burner myself.
In the last few years, I'm finally happy in my own skin in so many ways. I'm unapologetically me. I smile in pictures, and I mean that smile. I'm blissfully happy with the woman I am, and it feels awesome. There is no longer someone running around in my head saying, "girls like you don't." I've kick her and her negative self talk to the curb. The weight isn't something that I allow to make me feel less than anymore (and I did for a REALLY long time), but that doesn't mean I don't care about it and don't want to be healthier. I do, and for oh so many reasons. It's just my self worth isn't in that mix anymore. I know I'm worthy of God's love and all He has in store for me, no matter my size. I matter. I'm capable. I deserve delightstuck everything, and you do too.
Yes, I've struggled with food, my weight and self-image most of my life, but that doesn't define me. Yes, I've given up on diets more times than I can count. That doesn't define me either. I have felt the stirrings of wanting wellness for sometime now. I know I've let the excuses win far too long. Finding my own personal wellness was a #39adventures list item. I didn't quite get there this past year, but I took baby steps and my eyes are opening more and more every day. Maybe I'm finally ready to conquer this hurdle in my life... just maybe.
Baby girl and the darn insurance people are catalysts. I've gotta get a handle on this. I've got to stop the cycle of defeat once and for all. I want to be around for my kids and Coach Man. I don't want to always be tired. I'd really would like to embrace sweat. I want to move to feel good, not necessarily be tiny. I want to say SO THERE, insurance peeps.
So yep - I'm on a path to discovering what wellness means to me, and I pep talk myself every morning to move it more and fuel up with things that don't sabotage my system. I'm taking baby steps, and praying they become full strides here very quickly. I'm finding I have to pencil in time for me (just like that time for prayer), or it's just not going to happen. I'm taking heart in Romans 8:37 as my battle cry: "...conquerors through him who loved us." Yes, conquerors. It's in us. Maybe we just need a little of Him to help pull it out.
As my sweet friend Katy said to me just yesterday, "Everyone is on a journey." Indeed, we all are. Welcome to mine.
Cheers to a few more days of 39.
- Jen
You are amazing. Thank you for sharing your story. Everyone has struggles and the sooner we realize that, the better we will all be. Self-care for moms is really hard and totally necessary. You have a community of friends cheering you on.��
ReplyDeleteThanks, Stephanie
ReplyDelete