Tag Archives: confidence

Cartwheels.

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Cartwheels.

My eight year old daughter loves to do cartwheels.

I remember loving to do them as well when I was young. We spent countless hours outside riding bikes, making mud pies, doing cartwheels.

My little girl has finally mastered the cartwheel. After years of trying, and falling on her bottom, she can do it with ease…not always gracefully, but with confidence.

On Mother’s Day, I decided to show off to my little girl…and attempt a cartwheel…I have not stood in position to do this in probably thirty years…I was excited…adrenaline pumping!

I did it!

And then did it again!

With my new found healthy outlook, I thought it was something I could do again…or not.

I pulled something in the back of my leg and I am still feeling it today.

I posted something on Facebook about my silly attempt and found words of encouragement…”If a 40 something mom can still do a cartwheel- flip away!!”…  if a woman my age can still do a cartwheel, then that is an accomplishment!

Me being a pessimist, didn’t see it that way…

But things change. I was very wrong. If I can do a cartwheel with my own two legs…If I can be outside in the sunshine and running around with my kids on a beautiful Mother’s Day…If I can break bread with my loved ones and not worry about what I am eating…If I can take the time to sit down and write about trivial things…then I am blessed.

I am lucky to be a Mother…I am fortunate to have found good health again… I am blessed to be able to do a cartwheel.

Many little things and a few BIG things brought me to this moment of clarity…

I take too much for granted.

Even if for just a moment, I can stop and appreciate these little gifts, then it was worth the pulled muscle or indigestion or being frazzled at juggling all the day’s events…

I actually DID a cartwheel again.

Thank you, Marley.

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Seeing The Light.

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Seeing The Light.

After a tough couple of weeks with a ton up’s and down’s, I needed to see the light.

I did it again. I have been told not to. Over and over again, yet I continue I break the rules.

It is so bad for me, but I had to.

The darkness was creeping in, making me crazy.

I couldn’t bare it anymore, and so I just ignored all good judgment…and decided to find the light again.

My mother helped me…she is my accomplice of sorts.

She knew I shouldn’t either, but said I was in serious need of seeing the light…I never listened to mother…until today.

I opened up a can of worms by doing it…I thought wow I am going to pay the price…I usually literally do pay the price, but in the event of trying to save myself some time and money, I opened up that can…or should I say box.

I boxed it. Yep. Good old boxed hair color.

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I did it a few months ago, after years of going to a very trusted salon, but ran out of time before my cousin’s wedding…I was not a happy girl. It was awful and I swore every penny I ever spent at the salon was worth it, to not have to make such a terrible mistake again.

And yet again…I let life take over with one thing after another (all very valid reasons as some of my loyal readers will attest to), and bought another…I needed to see the light…badly.

Man oh man, do those roots show…fast.

They bring with them, my dark mood…I do not like being a brunette…or showing that my hair is getting a little gray here and there…I know I should just let it be free to be what it wants, but I just love being blonde…the lightness brightens my mood…

my day.

Because of how moody I felt when I woke up this morning-even on this beautiful sunny day, after dreading another day of darkness taking over- I said no way.

Nope, not doing this for one more day.

Did I save myself some time? Heck no…did I save some money? Heck yeah..

Did it turn out okay after the last fiasco? Thank goodness…yes!

And now my slightly superficial self will take my glowing blonde locks back out into the world without shame, and  go sit out in the sun on this beautiful Spring day, and enjoy yet another day with the light all around me…

Flattery.

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Sitting at an intersection the other day, I noticed it.

The heavy stare. The primitive instinct.  The male bonding.

Thankfully I was not on the receiving end of it.  Otherwise my face would be crimson, and I would probably trip and fall as I ran for the nearest tree to hind behind.

A beautiful woman crosses the street.  Two men sitting inside a cafe at the window, stare her down simultaneously. Not sure if one tapped the other to look up, or they both had an instinctive radar for heels and long hair blowing in the wind.

I sat at the intersection staring at the men…wondering why.

Why do they do this? I know I have stared briefly at a good-looking male from time to time, but look away immediately for fear of him catching me glance at him, so I have kept my stares down to a half of a second.

These men seemed to stare for minutes…pondering something…not sure sure I care to know what…but definitely thinking about something.

It must be some strange form of flattery from men.

If they can find minutes to stare someone down like this, it must mean that this woman is something these men only dream about or just plain old lust.

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For some reason,  I cannot get past it feeling invasive or rude. Almost a sort of harassment.

A woman should feel confident and beautiful at all times, not as if she is taking part in creating a scene in guy’s mind of some disturbing fantasy.

I am more of a sincere flattery kind of girl.

A few months ago, my husband’s friend was chatting with us at a restaurant. He then turned to me as we were leaving, and said how he noticed that I had looked very different after losing a lot of weight, and in front of my husband, he told me how he thought I looked great. 

That takes guts. That is a gentleman. He dared to be honest in front my husband and to my face. I was speechless.

Yes, I was slightly embarrassed at someone noticing my transformation, but as we talked about it about it later that night, I realized it was just so sweet.

My husband stood proudly next to me.

I stand taller now, realizing that I should be more confident.

If I was that woman the other day crossing the street, and felt the glare on me, I would shrivel.

It must truly be a primitive instinct for some men…or maybe even all men. I get it.

But if a man wants to win a woman’s heart or make her smile…or just make her day a little brighter, walk over to her, tap her on the shoulder, and tell her this…

“Excuse Miss. But I just wanted to let you know that you look beautiful. That your efforts to leave your home and feel confident and pretty today, have not gone unnoticed. Have a wonderful day”…I truly believe she will be taken aback at first, but then make her smile for the rest of the day as she recalls that moment…and I am pretty sure, the man will too.

FAT.

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FAT.

Oh yeah…that is a bad word.

It is mean.

It ticks people off. It brings out the worst in people.

Well, when you are pointing out someone’s struggle with weight, that is…

It is just plain rude or annoying.

Been there, done that.

I recently had a person go so far as to ask me if I was pregnant again…

Yep they said that.

Which is a moment when you feel more sorry for the person who just made the comment than feeling sorry for your overweight self. That awkward moment…

Silence… and then the realization of what just occurred.  Ouch.

Yes it hurt.

I cried.

I wallowed in countless cookies and treats…why deprive myself of my favorite goodies? Losing two pounds after months of walking and changing my diet ( I was PROUD of those two shed pounds) , and someone STILL thinks I look pregnant?

My response was…”Nope…no baby. Just FAT“…

Heck…why not?  Why can’t I say that to her?

If she was bold enough to say it, I was bold enough, and FAT enough apparently,  to fight back.

I still say hi and smile to my charming aquaintance, but will never forget that moment.

It was a definite motivator.

Funny though that the person has yet to notice the thirty pounds of FAT that have left my body forever.

That is ok…

I did.

I finally caved, and bought some new jeans.

Twice! ( That deserves an exclamation point!) I am down two sizes…and just about ready for another downsizing.

Which was weird for me after years of struggling with only two or five pounds at the most.

But AWESOME all at the same time!

I hesitated for a few months actually to buy anything. I think I was playing mind games with myself…the FAT always returns…do NOT purchase or donate anything just yet.

Maybe it isn’t as noticable in jeans that fit me properly now. I truly thought it was more noticable when it looked like I could fit two of me in my jeans as I constantly needed to hike them up even with a belt.

My momma pouch/jelly roll always held the waistline or belt in place…but not anymore. Not too much fat lives in that area now.

I may still be a little bigger than the average woman, but feeling good inside and out…jumping and running to chase my kids is FUN now…not embarassing.

This is MY small victory against FAT…thirty pounds was something I only saw one other time in my battle against weight loss and getting healthy.

 

THIRTY POUNDS…that is equivalent to ten meatloafs for my family…

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 That’s alot of meatloaf.

I pray that no one takes offense to my story. I write this knowing dozens of women I adore, love, and respect are fighting the good fight with FAT. And I am certain there are thousands more. Maybe it would motivate one…maybe none.

But that is ok.

I am proud of me…and FAT is not my friend anymore.