Tag Archives: women

Uncompromisable is a Long Word

A little over a year ago I wrote a post about learning to be by myself. When I wrote that post I had been single for all of six months and was just starting to really enjoy the freedom that came with it. And by freedom I don’t mean free to be with other people, I mean free in a way that no one else has an influence on your decisions. Then of course I started dating someone and ruined it all. But I’ve already admitted to being a chronic and habitual dater, since I was in middle school my world has been centered around the male species. As I got older relationship after relationship ended because something didn’t sit right with me. Obviously, there were other reasons to end things, but a pattern that I notice now looking back on things is a lot of times I ran because I noticed myself changing in ways I wasn’t okay with.

 

I’m aware that as humans we change constantly, so even the person I marry will not be the same person 20, 30, 60 years down the line, and neither will I. But I do believe that at everyone’s core are certain qualities and characteristics that are uncompromisable. For me, those things can range from my mental health, to my relationship with God, to my love for art and music. So often we compromise the things that make us who we are to try and make a relationship work that just isn’t meant to.

 

If you know me at all, you know I’m super basic in that The Notebook is one of my all-time favorite movies. Judge me all you want, but it’s not entirely because of the epic love story. I like to think I relate to Allie Hamilton, partially because of her name but also because she’s a feisty smoke show and that’s who I aspire to be. But I digress…no matter how much time has passed, I can watch that movie again and again and each time a different line or scene breaks me down. Particularly, I’ll always remember her telling Lon, “I don’t paint anymore.” Such a simple, yet loaded sentence. I’ve had this thought so many times while dating someone, “I don’t ______ anymore.” I don’t see my friends anymore. I don’t sing anymore. I don’t go running anymore.

 

This epiphany smacked me in the face last week when I was discussing this very subject with a friend. This is why I’ve been single for so long and this is why I’m OKAY with being single for this long. In my longest stint of singledom I’ve finally realized I no longer want to be in a relationship for the sake of company, I only want to be with someone who encourages me and inspires me to do the things that make me who I am and who I want to be. I don’t have time anymore to waste on men who force me into a mold I’ll never fit into because it compromises who I am to my very core. And until I find someone worth my time, who pushes me to not only do what I love but find more things to love doing, I’ll remain single.

 

The older I get the more I realize how hard I have to work to create time for myself. I also realize how many people my age are already married, and wonder if I’m missing something. It’s easy to get caught up in those expectations, especially in the South, so I have to keep reminding myself that I’d much rather be single than be in a relationship (or God forbid, a marriage) that doesn’t force me to be the best version of myself. Losing sight of yourself is never worth it.

 

 

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Open Letter to Tomi Lahren

Dear Tomi,

Sweet, innocent, closed-minded Tomi, you are so sorely mistaken and misinformed about this Women’s Rights Movement. Your anger and hatred are so loud that I can barely hear the judgmental, ignorant words coming out of your mouth.

I imagine you and I are alike in many ways. We were both raised by a mom and dad in an average, predominantly white town. We both attended a high school about the same size, and we both attended college for journalism. We both got into the television industry almost immediately out of school, except that you were handed your own TV show at the inexperienced age of 21, where I worked as a production assistant for a year, part-time at minimum wage, until I was forced to find a different, better-paying job. Here is where our stories begin to differ.

You have never known adversity. You have been riding a cushy six-figure salary since you were of legal drinking age. You didn’t “earn” your job at One American News Network, you didn’t start from the bottom and work your way up a career ladder that some spend their entire lives aiming for. A man looked at you and realized the opportunity for a fantastic ROI. You’re beautiful, sassy, and entertaining, and in news, that means money and ratings. It doesn’t make you right, or smart, or even good at your job. It simply means you are entertainment.

With that being said, OF COURSE you don’t understand this Women’s Rights Movement. Why would you? Every time I see you, your brow is furrowed and your mouth is open. LISTEN. Even if for just a moment, remove yourself from your shiny, blonde, polished Fox News-esque pedestal, take a step back and really look at the world around you. I’m not talking about your friends, and family, and coworkers, I mean the people you don’t even see on your way to work every day. The homeless woman, the cab driver, the single mom with three kids using food stamps, the woman who’s been silenced by a broken and abusive relationship. Don’t you see these humans? Or are you too blinded by your privileged past and present to completely miss what is your imminent future?

The difference between me and you is that I don’t stand for myself and my own selfish desires. I stand for others who weren’t dealt the same cards as you and I. I am not the victim, but I stand with women who have been the victim. Of discrimination, of assault, of abuse, of oppression. I believe wholeheartedly in equality, from gender, to race, to religion, to sexuality. I believe that we are all humans, and that we are all brothers and sisters as children of God. At the end of the day, we are all equal in God’s eyes. We are commanded to love one another, and by attacking other women, your fellow sisters, you are defying the very premise of Christianity.

You have a voice where other women don’t. You are literally handed a microphone and camera and the opportunity to make a difference on a daily basis. Use your voice for the betterment of society. Use your voice to empower other women and inspire them with your own strength and work ethic. Don’t shoot them down because they aren’t like you, lift them up higher than they ever thought possible because they aren’t like you.

No one is asking for “free stuff,” this is so much more than that. And if you did any actual research besides scribbling down a rant and reading it from a teleprompter, something in those facts (not alternative facts, just regular facts) may change your perspective a little. The moment you open your arms and start loving others the way Jesus loves you, your entire world will shift. I urge you to try it sometime. 

I believe in you, Tomi.

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Trapped and Broken

This day has never hit me quite as hard as today. The older you get the better things come into focus that were hard to understand as a child, and somehow they become even more difficult to grasp. Everyone has their 9/11 story so it doesn’t matter what mine is, but today has been building up in my heart for a long time. I’m not sure what ignited the emotion in me today, between the anniversary of a tragedy, one of the most humbling sermons I’ve ever listened to, or the perfectly harmonized music and renewing energy in my church this morning. I have so many words and scriptures and inspirations running through my head I don’t even know where to start with this post, so I’m just going to dive in and see what happens.

Of course at church today the 9/11 tragedy was the theme, as well as the Charleston Sofa Superstore fire, two of the most devastating events in U.S. history as far as the number of lost firefighters. A story was told about a woman named Janelle, who worked on the 64th floor of the WTC, and made it all the way down to the 13th floor before the building collapsed on top of her. Trapped in the rubble for over 24 hours, she found herself on top of the dead body of a firefighter. That firefighter’s reflective vest caught the eye of another first responder, who reached down to pull him out and found Janelle grabbing his hand. Even in death, that service member saved her life. Just like the Charleston 9, who gave their lives to save others’.

The message today was that there are two types of people: the rescue squad, and those who are trapped and broken. Those in the rescue squad dedicate their lives to saving those who are trapped, broken, lost. Through God’s word and Jesus’ sacrifice, they pull others out of the rubble, one by one, and give them something to live for. The rescue squad runs towards the disaster, when everyone else is running away. It’s a crazy concept to think that there are disciples out there, who we consider strangers, who would lay down their lives for us. Many first responders are not only serving their community but, first and foremost, serving God.

“No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life’s first cry, to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny”

 

Something inside me has been brewing for some time now, and I’m learning that my journey with Jesus is more like a roller coaster. I feel close to Him for a while and then slowly veer away, focusing on other, less important things in my life. And then I get this feeling of anxiety, fueled by incompleteness, that becomes so overwhelming that when I finally find my way back to Him, I bubble over into this embarrassing heap of raw, dependent woman, and in the midst of it all I find myself again.

Yes, embarrassing. Because I’m not a big cryer, I’m really good at ignoring my emotions and tucking them away somewhere and dealing with them later in the privacy of my own home or room or car or wherever I can be completely alone. But, like any woman, eventually we have a breakdown from all that we keep locked up inside. And if you’re a Dane Cook fan, you understand how his joke about a “good cry” is actually so true. It starts with a catch of your breath or a single lip quiver, or for me that feeling in the back of your throat that feels like you might choke to death if you don’t entertain it. And I keep pushing it farther and farther down until it doesn’t fit there anymore, and then one random Sunday in the middle of my favorite worship song it fights its way out. For me, my mouth starts doing this awful twitch that I absolutely CAN NOT control. It’s only happened a handful of times in my life, always in public, where I want so badly to choke that cry down until I get home but I just can’t. And I know that if I allow my mouth to stop twitching, the next step is a full-blown sob. Wedged between a row of people I’ve never seen before #iliterallycantevenrightnow. For the record, still didn’t let it out today, so those of you in my immediate friend and work circles, hurricane Allie could develop at ANY second. This is your warning.

Today I sat in front of God and my church feeling like I was back, exactly where I am supposed to be. I worked my way up to the top of that roller coaster again, every climb is harder and higher, but that peak is always the answer for me. All I keep thinking about today is my own personal rescue squad, and how I never realized that’s what they were until now. Andrea Morris and Kristen Suraci for reaching out and welcoming me into their church family. My mom for giving me the best Christian-based and sound advice in every aspect of my life. Adam Caudle for shining His light on me all the way from Atlanta. My support system in Charleston and elsewhere. Thank you for pulling me out of the rubble, dusting me off and showing me Grace and Love and Jesus, no matter how many times I find the bottom of that roller coaster, my rescue squad is there to lift me back up.

 

A simple “thank you” will never be enough to those who lay down their lives every day for strangers. You are the truest disciples and allow God’s word to continue on in the lives of people you have saved or sacrificed for.

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Cliche New Years Post

Oh look! Another article in your news feed about how to better yourself in 2015. “Fifteen ways to be happier in 2015.” “Fifty Resolutions You Should be Making This Year.” “The Top 10 Resolutions to Make for Next Year.” You can be a journalist, or even a blogger, and have your own writing style without using a list for every single article you write.

#overit #endrant

I’m not making any resolutions this year. That’s right, I’m so awesome already, I don’t need to change myself. Not really, I just think about last year at this time when I made my resolutions, and the year before that, and the year before that. And how they never happened. And how they’re always the same.

1. Lose weight.
2. Stop biting my nails.
3. Exercise more.
4. Eat healthier.
5. Pray more.

[It’s really sad that “pray more” is at the bottom of that list below losing weight and biting my nails. Probably if that were at the top of the list I wouldn’t need anything else on the list.]

None of these things about me have changed over the last several years. My weight and routines have fluctuated but I am still the same person. New Years Resolutions don’t drastically change who you are just because the date on the calendar changes. You change because of things that happen to you over the course of that year, things that you have NO control over.

I sat down last December, much like in years’ past, and told myself I would lose weight, blind to what God and the universe actually had in store for me for 2014. A stress fracture in my foot, a new job, and most recently, a car accident.

Sometimes it feels like the more determined you are to do something, the more obstacles you find standing in your way. Just when I hit a great momentum of motivation I am stopped in my tracks. The accident left me with a concussion, back pain, a gastrointestinal bleed, and a ulcer (in a nutshell). Last night was my first night exercising in 20 days. The longest I’ve gone since my stress fracture. And there’s not much more discouraging than trying to work out in the gym when you feel tired, fat, and unmotivated.

Spoiler alert: people think that a new year means a new start, but the reality is your life continues the way it’s been going! You can’t change yourself, but you CAN change your attitude. Maybe 2014 wasn’t so shiny for you, I feel ya, man. But 2015 might be better for us if we change our attitudes and outlooks. It really sucks to get back in the gym after 20 days of not working out, but exercise is always the better choice than sitting on your fat ass at home! And sure, life may not always go as you plan, maybe you got laid off or got broken up with, but you know damn well those things always turn into something better down the road. I got into a car accident and got a brand new car, see? Case in point! So keep on truckin’ friend, headstrong into 2015.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

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Just Keep Swimming

I was just finishing off a bowl of chocolate chunk ice cream and thought to myself, “I should really post on my diet blog again.”

 

Well, here I am, almost 3 months later and zero pounds down. I could blame it on the fact that I broke my foot running the bridge run, but that feels cheap. After giving up the elliptical, treadmill, any body weight training like squats and lunges, and yes, even spin class was making my foot hurt, I decided to try the only other option, swimming.

 

You might be thinking, oh yea! Swimming’s fun! Nope. I remember being a kid at the YMCA one summer and learning to swim was cool because you got a new colored band to wear around your neck for each improvement you made, and at the end of the summer if you swam in the deep end you got a black band, and only the really cool kids had a black band.

 

I also remember one of the most embarrassing moments of my life when I attended a pool party in 7th grade with all my friends (and by friends I mean a bunch of girls who hated each other, because…middle school), all the guys were doing flips off the diving board. Typical Allie move, I decide to try and be cool, one of the guys, and as everyone watches me, I stand at the end of the diving board, muster up all my gymnastics knowledge and coordination, take a big jump and….belly flop.

 

I also enjoyed boogie boarding in middle school, I would go to the beach with my best friend Brittany and we could boogie board for hours and hours, all week long. My entire back peeled off one summer. Only problem was, without my boogie board I felt like I might drown. The worse part was a few times I got sucked under by a wave and salt water would go all up my nose and down my throat and in my lungs and in my ears and eyes and it was just AWFUL. One of the worst feelings ever.

 

Needless to say my entire life I’ve been a nose-plugger. Any time I jump into water, or even dip my head under, I plug my nose with my fingers. Any time I can’t touch the bottom I have what probably constitutes as a minor anxiety attack. No wonder I put off this whole “swimming for fitness” thing for several weeks, but I had no other choice, and finally one day I just went. I swam 25 meters and had to stop to catch my breath. For the first few times I had to stop after every 25 meters and breathe. Oh, I also had my head above the water, like I didn’t put my face in, so my neck was killing me the next day and I also felt like an idiot.

 

This week, in the last 4 days, I’ve easily swam somewhere around 3000-4000 meters. This is after about 6 weeks of swimming at least 3 days a week, but once I finally got the hang of it, I didn’t want to stop. I know, it sounds just as weird coming out as it does to hear it. I actually found a form of exercise I don’t loathe. Isn’t that bizarre? Now you all think I’m a weirdo.

 

Swimming is nothing like any other form of cardio. The best thing is no one knows when you’re sweating profusely. Your thighs don’t rub together and you don’t have to keep pulling your shorts down. You don’t have to bring a towel to wipe your sweat because it’s dripping onto your bike (but you do have to bring a towel, it’s a pool after all). No one’s yelling at you to pedal faster or zumba harder or hold that plank longer. There’s no music, playlists, or “get pumped music.” All I hear is my inhale and my bubbles. And sometimes I don’t hear anything because my ears fill with water. You don’t have to wear makeup or worry about your hair. The makeup will run and make you look like a day-old prostitute and your hair is in a tiny bun in a skin-tight cap. And the very best part? That one-piece sucks in all that tummy. Oh yea baby, it’s like spanxx for your workout.

 

Now I can jump into water and not plug my nose! That’s a huge deal for me. I could probably also not drown now, so that’s good too.

 

I’m addicted and I just can’t enooouuuugh. I just can’t get enoouuugghh I just can’t get enoouuggh.. .

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Getting Over It

Being an adult is like, the worst thing ever. Seriously.

 

How do we become so convinced that waking up before sunrise, putting on uncomfortable clothes, and driving to a job where we do just about the same thing every day is going to be THE GREATEST THING EVER!?!? That was my mindset in high school and college anyways. I used to think that by the time I was 25 I would be living in New York City working some really glamorous job like managing a fashion magazine. I turn 25 in two months and I’m nowhere close to that, and I think it’s because one thing that causes you to be an adult is drive and discipline. And I just don’t usually have those things. That’s hard for me to admit because I know I CAN work hard, sometimes I just choose not to.

 

My bed is just so fantastic. When my alarm goes off in the morning, no matter what time it is, I hate it. I loathe my alarm with every ounce of my being. My mom used to set the vacuum in my room and turn it on and walk out, granted it was about 2:00 in the afternoon and I was still sleeping. These days I find myself waking up to a 5:30am alarm to go to the gym, and SPIN for that matter! What the heck is wrong with me. I woke up at 5am last weekend to run 6 miles with 40,000 people. So many people. So much running. So early. So. So. Early.

 

Bridge Run1Bridge Run2Bridge Run3

Pretty cool though right?!?! They have a saying that goes with the Bridge Run that’s “Get Over It!” Super corny but, sometimes you really do just have to suck it up and get over it. And I did, and I have been continuing to find the adult in myself and stop whining about how I hate mornings and just get over it and go to the gym. Well, I will probably always whine about mornings but at least my boyfriend calls me a lazy slob a lot less when I get up at the same time he does to work out.

 

On a side note, three days after I ran the super cool Bridge Run, I found out I had a stress fracture in my foot! That’s what I get for not training and pushing myself too hard. So for a few weeks I am limited to only spin classes and upper body workouts, but I’m just going to get over it and do the best I can. I’ve gotten back to the point where if I skip a day at the gym I feel miserable and disgusting. That’s a great place to be because you don’t dread working out every day, you actually feel better and almost look forward to it. Almost. Holding yourself accountable works way better than any friend holding you accountable, once you start feeling guilty about not working out you’re on the right track. So glad I’m back on that track.

 

I don’t know if I will be at my peak of fitness by summer, but at this point I’m happy with myself for trying to be healthier and learning about how to take better care of my body. Find your reason to get up before sunrise and the workout will be worth it! Even if it’s so that you can drink beer that night…..yes, that’s my motivation most days.

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A New Struggle

As if THE Struggle wasn’t enough, I had my free one-on-one consultation at my new gym last week. This should be motivating and uplifting right? WRONG. The trainer, Leslie, told me to stop eating carbs again. Just when I started thinking carbs were okay, she tells me “Allie, if you cut carbs out of your diet, I can guarantee you will see pounds fall off.” Well I’m not going to argue with a professional trainer.

Thankfully, I left for a mini-vacay in New York City the next day, which meant CHEAT WEEKEND!! And oh, did I cheat…burgers, fries, cheese, gnocchi, tacos, pizza, beer, liquor, and more beer (see pictures below, if you dare tempt yourself). I was fully prepared to gain at least 5 pounds once I got home. I didn’t factor in that we probably walked every street in Manhattan, so shockingly I didn’t gain any weight.

blogpic2Chezz. blogpic3Tacuzz. blogpic4Ahmletzz. blogpic5Pastuzz. blogpic7Sugazz.

Monday morning I started this terrible, awful, no good, very bad diet, that consists of eggs and fruit for breakfast, a big salad for lunch, and lean meat and veggies for dinner. I am allowed to snack only on natural, unsalted nuts, fruit, and natural peanut butter. I am avoiding salt and sugar as much as possible. So naturally, I got to work today and saw a pack of saltines in the breakroom and ripped into them. They were stale and disappointing, it was a sign I suppose. Also, on Monday, a resident brought a dozen cookies into the office and placed them on my desk. I had one, there was no resisting. You tell me which one looks more appetizing:

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Yea, that’s what I thought. You would cave too.

The good news here is that I have lost 3 pounds in the last 3 days on this terrible, awful, no good, very bad [but effective] diet. Leslie also talked me into unlimited spin classes, so by summer I’ll be Adriana Lima’s twin, y’all.

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Breaking Point

Things that happened this week:

1. I started “lifting heavy.” RAWR.

2. I bought a fitness class groupon.

3. I joined a gym.

WHOA, ALLIE! That’s a lot of fitness-y things you did this week!

I know, thanks!

There comes a time in every woman’s life when she looks in the mirror and says, “THAT’S IT MAN! I’m not gonna look like this anymore!” This special time has come more than once for me, I’d say this is probably the third time I’ve had one of those serious talks with myself. Better late (or again) than never!

I read this post last week, and decided to try it out. This girl sounds like she knows what she’s talking about, and I want to look beefy, okay? Not really, I just want to be healthy and get in shape, and I agree 100% with her entire post. So on Monday I started trying to “lift heavy” like she talks about, which basically  meant using more weight on the machines in my tiny gym at my apartment complex. I felt a little sore after a couple days, #winning. Then I found this groupon thingy for 30 fitness classes for 20 bucks!! So I bought it, of course.

I was supposed to get 10 classes from a gym just down the street from me, so I signed up for one, printed my voucher and marched in there at 8:15 ON MY DAY OFF, yup. They informed me that they weren’t honoring the groupon anymore, but that I could still attend the class that day and they would give me a couple more to make up for it. (Awesome, right? By the way, the gym is Chucktown Fitness and I highly recommend it!)  The class kicked my booty and on top of that every staff member working knew my name by the time I walked out the door. And no, that’s not because I was so uncoordinated or just incredibly awesome at the workout, they are just super nice. (But for the record, I was incredibly awesome at the workout, the trainer told me so.)

I was so overwhelmingly impressed by this gym that I actually went back the next day and joined! And it gets better…I went to ask a trainer to show me how to do something and he worked with me one-on-one for 30 minutes until I couldn’t walk anymore. Lunges for days.

Today I feel like I’ve put in such effort this week, and not just because my legs are sore every time I move them, along with my triceps, but because my whole mentality has changed (besides the pizza I ate last night). I keep wanting to see a change in the scale or in my measurements but I know that’s unrealistic. I’m going to have to have many more weeks like this one and slowly things will change and I will feel better and better about myself! After all, it’s not for anyone but myself and my body. Fitness should be self-improvement, not comparing yourself to others and setting goals based on how someone else’s body looks.

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Bottom line is, I hope I want to put on my bikini in May. Fat chance, sista, but we gon’ keep workin’.

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Temptations

I’ve found that the harder I try to lose weight and “be good,” the more random people make it challenging for me. I made note of a few examples over the last week or so.

First, one fine Monday, I had a particular hankerin’ for Wendy’s, as I sometimes get. What? I enjoy their “sea salt” fries and floppy burgers every once in a while, okay? I told myself that what I really needed was quarters to do laundry, and used Wendy’s as an excuse to ask someone behind a cash register for laundry change. Two birds with one stone, people. I also said to myself, “Self, you don’t have a lot of money right now since you’re saving up for your New York trip, so let’s keep this order sweet and simple, under $3.” No big, that’s what value menus are for. With all of this churning in my dieting brain, I ordered a Jr. Cheeseburger…NOT a Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger, just to clarify. And a value fry. And a small diet coke, just for kicks and giggles. The lady told me my total would be six dollars and something. I said no, no. Just take that drink off, I didn’t need the carbonation anyways. She then told me my new total was four dollars and something, whatever lady, just give me my burger before I change my mind about this trip entirely. I asked the not-so-friendly worker if she had any quarters and she answered, “I already closed my drawer.” Oh, awesome. So I drive away and when I get home I see that there are actually TWO Jr. Cheeseburgers in the bag. And I DEFINITELY did not eat both of them. Nope, definitely not. And in case you were wondering, that meal was 940 calories.

Second, I joined some friends at a restaurant/bar downtown this past Sunday to watch some rugby. Well, I just went because Rob bribed me with brunch. My dieting brain + hunger pangs told me to get the ham and cheese, which sounded like a simple sandwich that would satiate me until dinner. My “ham and cheese” was plopped in front of me, the “sandwich” was actually two giant pieces of texas toast with about half a pound of ham in between, melted cheesy deliciousness covering the entire square footage of the sandwich, and a perfectly cooked duck egg on top. It looked incredible, but all I saw was CALORIES CALORIES CALORIES. Funny enough, one of the guys with us looked at me and said, “Allie, you won’t eat that whole thing.” And I replied, “Challenge accepted, sir.” And so it goes…I ate the whole darn thing. And it was SOO GUD.

I'm not even sorry

 

As my friend Abby would say, the struggle is real.

 

 

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The Forever Diet: it is what it is, ladies!

I decided to forego carbs starting the day after Christmas, after eating at least a gallon of butter-smothered holiday chex mix for 72 hours prior. Actually, I decided I needed to lose about 15 pounds…what I had gained over the course of the past 6 months. Actually just complex carbs, because literally EVERYTHING has carbs in it. No joke. Yogurt has carbs. Beans have carbs. Peanut butter has carbs. And I ain’t givin up peanut butter and beans, people. Yogurt, you can go, but the beans and PB are staying.

 

This no-carb idea was just a way to “kick start” my little pow wow. I thought to myself, “surely, if I don’t eat bread, crackers, potatoes, or pasta for a week or two, I’ll drop at least five pounds.” That left me with salad, chicken, salad, tuna, salad, eggs, and maybe some salad minus the lettuce if I was feeling really crazy. I LITERALLY DID NOT PUT A [COMPLEX] CARB IN MY MOUTH FOR SIX DAYS STRAIGHT. That’s right, except for when my boyfriend made me breakfast, like the sweet man that he is, and there was toast. It’s okay. And then I got some kind of stomach bug/food poisoning and all I ate that day was crackers and peanut butter. Whoopsies. But seriously, you guys, like a week!

 

And I did lose a few pounds, but now I’m stuck at 7 pounds down…lots to go. Before I start these regular rantings, I feel it’s necessary to give a little background. Maybe a little, “I am … therefore I think” activity.

 

I am a woman…therefore, I think I’m fat.

I am in my twenties…therefore I think I’m broke.

I have friends…therefore, I think I have no time for exercise (some days).

I love food…therefore, I think I must always diet.

 

Ah, and there we have it. I have been dieting, to some extent, since high school. Since I was fourteen. That’s ten years. TEN YEARS I have been dieting, exercising, doing it all right. And have I ever been happy with my weight? Abso-freakin-lutely not. And I’m not fat, I’m well aware of that. I’ve never been “overweight” according to BMI charts, I’ve never been called fat (directly), but most days I look in the mirror and I’m not happy with what I see. I’ve come to the conclusion that every girl has a mindset somewhat related to mine, we are never happy. And even if, by some miracle, we are happy with our weight, there’s something else we find to be unhappy about, our hair, our nose, our toes, who knows. I also enjoy poetry.

 

The older I get, the more comical it is to me. I’ve become so insensitive to my own thoughts that my constant weight battle is slightly entertaining. Like a couple months ago I stepped on the scale, as I do every day, and the number had been increasing pretty steadily, and finally I thought to myself, “welp Allie, you’ve done it again. You’re fat and now you have to work off all that food you’ve been eating, and it’s gonna suck.” (Even though I JUST did that! Ten months ago, I was the most in-shape and happy with my body as I had been in years.) And I’ll stand in front of the mirror and poke my stomach out and make a fart noise with my mouth. Another day, another diet. One day of cheating equals one week of salads and gym trips.

 

OH, it is glorious to be a girl.

 

More to come.

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