Mirror, Mirror On The Wall

I woke up one morning this week fat. No other word for it. Not as fat as I used to be, but fat, none the less. I started my most recent weight loss journey in April of this year. To date I have lost 44 lbs. Well, 39 lbs as of the morning I’m referring to (isn’t being a woman AWESOME?) When I stood on the scale that morning I got pissed. And depressed. And sad. But mostly pissed. How dare my body betray me this way? Didn’t it know I wasn’t happy getting bigger? That getting small was the goal here? Ugh. Stupid body. (Yes – I know the weight gain was in direct coloration to my diet habits over the last few days, the large salt content of the previous day’s diet and the current time of the month, but just go with me here, ok?)

So what did I do to defeat my Eeorye mood? I put on my new, never-worn, size 10 (yeah!) skirt. The skirt, although more snug that I usually like my skirts to be, was not uncomfortably tight despite my 4 lb overnight weight gain. That was encouraging. Then I also put on my new, never-worn, size Medium (yeah again!) shirt. I added some high heels and excellent accessories. And when I looked in the mirror I realized I looked great*!

And suddenly I felt great. Even at 171 lbs and change. I looked amazing. I remembered that I am 4 sizes and 39 lbs smaller than I was in January. That there were several inches missing from around my body. And that I felt better, healthier, more fit, than I had in years. I remembered the positives, and forgot about that annoying 171 on the scale. I remembered that I am more than a number on the scale. I am even more that the inches I’ve lost, or the fat girl I’ve been. I am a talented actor. I am an entertaining writer (at least I always entertain myself – if others don’t find me funny it’s none of my business. See Warrior(s)). I am a loyal friend. I am a great daughter. I have great taste in clothes. And none of that has anything to do with how much I weigh or what size I wear. And with a smile on my face I ventured out into the world.

How different might my day have been if I had just sighed and put on schlubby clothes? If had surrendered to the fat? As it was, even though my day was filled with the usual challenges, I still felt good about at least one part of myself. I took control and decided that a stupid number on the scale wasn’t going to ruin my day. I am more than that, much more.

What are you more than?

*This realization might have been a little due to my amazing mirror – those of you who have seen it know what I’m talking about! My coach rules!

I See London, I See France…

I’ve had a couple of serious blogs in a row, so let’s shoot for something more lighthearted today, shall we?

Do you ever put your underwear on wrong in the morning?

Those of you who live alone, and therefore dress alone, and have done so your whole life may not understand. Those of you in a relationship where you usually get up last may not understand. I am hoping that someone out there understands. Because it would be too sad for me if I was the only person to sometimes do this.

In the fumbling adventure that is dressing in the dark* I have, on perhaps more than one occasion, put my underwear on incorrectly. I have put it on inside out (especially easy to do if it’s tag-less – and most of mine is) and even the wrong way around (back in front, front in back – this mistake is sadly more common for me to make – don’t ask). I have, in rare instances, done both these things on the same day. The style of underwear does not matter (you may feel free to use your imagination here). I have accomplished this feat with all makes and models.

The worst thing about all this is that I sometimes don’t notice right away. Sometimes not for hours. Often not until I go to the restroom and actually see my mistake.

Sure, I may have random thoughts of my drawers not fitting quite right (am I retaining that much water?!?); however, somehow it never occurs to me that something might be drastically wrong.

And this morning I found myself wondering why that was. (For the record, my underwear was correct from the get-go today, I was just bored). I do this action every day, put on underwear and wear it. Why do I not feel it immediately when something isn’t kosher? It should be so apparent when something is out of whack that I am immediately able to recognize and correct it. Or – is it just the opposite? Is it something I do so often that I don’t even think about it anymore? Like when you go out for groceries on a Saturday morning and five minutes later you realize you’re not dressed to be going to work.

Granted, the only consequence for abnormal panties is a couple of uncomfortable hours and the challenge of acrobatics necessary to correct it in a stall in the restroom at work. (Coworker’s have eyed me rather suspiciously after one of these adventures, it’s difficult to do quietly). But the key to that realization and correction is often the tag. I’ll see that tag where it shouldn’t be and think “Something is not right here.” The issue on my mind right now is that not everything in life has a tag. What if there’s more that I’m missing? What if there are things I don’t pay attention to that don’t have a tag to bring me back to reality? What am I missing by dressing in the dark?

Life is too short. It’s time to pay attention.

*Done so as not to wake the significant other in the room who does not have to be up yet.

Warrior(s)

Have you seen it? Warrior? If not then go. Go. Right. Now.

Have you seen it now? Because I’m serious – you need to. Immediately. Come to think of it, if you have seen it already, go again! Seriously. It’s amazing. Even if you’re not a fan of MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) you will love this movie. Even if you’re a woman (or any sex of person, actually) who’s not a proponent of violence, you will love this movie. It will make you laugh, it will make you cry. It’s awesome.

It is one of those amazingly rare balanced films, where you’re not sure who to root for. Sometimes in films you’re not sure who to root for because you don’t like anyone. Not in this film. In this film you’re not sure who to root for because you love everyone – you want everyone to win. And you know there is no way for everyone to win. Someone has to lose. I love those kind of movies.

Then there are the performances. My god, the performances. They are exquisite. Just heartbreaking. Touching. Heartwarming. All at the same time. My hubs fights MMA and Jennifer Morrison exactly portrays how I feel when he fights. Cheering when he’s winning and closing my eyes when he’s struggling. The agony when I think he’s injured and the joy when he wins. The tension when you’re not able to watch (for whatever reason). Not watching is definitely harder than watching. She’s perfect. And she’s not the only one. They’re all perfect. Bit parts, main roles. Their struggle and humanity are clearly on their faces every step of the way.

And now I’m wondering – why isn’t everyone screaming from the rooftops about this movie?!? It debuted to high hopes, great reviews, and then had an opening weekend of just $5.6 million. Sad stuff. I’m terribly afraid that this spectacular movie will fade into the shadows, overlooked for Oscars, moving to the dollar movie theaters and DVD’s with barely a whisper.

And that would be a travesty. Not only for the reasons mentioned above, but also because of the lessons that came clear to me as I watched it. One of the major themes that I loved in this movie is that we are all Warriors. We are all fighting either for or against something. We’re fighting against a memory, an experience, an action we took, a decision we made. We’re fighting for family, country, ourselves or our loved ones. And sometimes you’re doing both at the same time. You’re fighting against the experience of a childhood with an alcoholic father and for your own family and children. You’re fighting against the memory of a dying mother, or your own dishonorable actions, and for a brother-in-arms. And in the end, it’s way easier to fight for something, than against something.

For a long time I fought against myself. I fought against the experience of a lonely childhood. The memory of being the least popular person in school. Every time I met someone new my first thought would be “I wonder if they’ll like me.” I believed myself to be unlikable, and fought against that belief every day. Or maybe with it. I was surprised every time someone I deemed interesting was interested in me in return. I constantly worried: was I smart enough, funny enough, happy enough, would they see through my facade? Working all the time to be exactly what they needed in a friend, hoping I could fool them so that they would never want to do without me. Hoping I could be perfect.

It’s exhausting. It’s exhausting to fight against yourself. It wore me out day after day. It got harder and harder to smile. I got more and more brittle inside. It was a terrible catch 22. As I got more tired, I became more afraid that the “truth” would show through, that my facade would fail me. So I worked harder on covering things up, and because more tired, and more afraid. And again, and again, and again. I didn’t even know I was doing it. I didn’t even realize how tired I was, stretched thin over my “faults” hoping they wouldn’t show through to the surface. Until someone asked me, “Isn’t it exhausting to put on a happy face for everyone else, every day?”

“It is none of your business what others think of you.” (I love Eleanor Roosevelt). I’d heard that quote before, many times. I’d thought I embraced it, understood it. I was wrong. I finally understand. It’s not my job to be happy for anyone else. I have to be happy for myself. I have had several amazing experiences this year that have finally driven me to fully embrace this concept. It is none of my business what other people think of me. They’re going to think it, regardless. What’s important is what I think of me. Do I think I’m likable, a good person, honest and in integrity with my word? Am I worthy of respect, love, admiration and trust? I can finally stop fighting against a scared little girl, and start fighting for an amazing woman. I can fight for my joy. I can fight for win-win solutions. I can fight for my liberty. I can fight for myself.

I am a Warrior.

What do you fight for?

It’s out there…

the websites are live.

I’m scared to death.

http://www.KateUpLate.com

http://www.UpAfterMidnight.com