Puttering Along... Oh and FUCK Halloween Candy.

Hey, ya'll!

     I'm just doing a quick check-in. I'm still doing well, but I gotta admit, I've had my first couple of days of backsliding. Nothing major, just overindulging a bite here and a bite there. Oh, and there's goddamn Halloween candy in the house. We took the kids to an early trick-or-treating event at Disney Springs and they got a pretty good haul, goddamnit.

     In case you can't tell, my mood hasn't been great lately. We are struggling financially and that always stresses me out to no end. We've had a crazy schedule as The Hubs starts his new job and my kiddos are struggling with new meds, new therapies, etc. I'm stressed, and feeling yucky about myself. The funny thing is, when I attacked the Halloween candy and found myself looking down at 4 mini-Twix wrappers in the trash, I felt relieved. Like, 'Oh, there I am! There's the girl that doesn't matter much and is ok with being a slob.' I know, I know... it's a horrible thing to think and feel, but I'm just being truthful here. Don't worry... I delivered a swift kick to that chick's butt and pointed out that we DO matter, and told her to get the hell back on board or get out.

     I am now down 28 pounds, so I'm not doing terribly... just slowed down some. I have made the commitment to myself to get back to tracking my intake in the Lose It app more carefully, (which I have admittedly gotten sloppy about), and have told The Hubs that I really, really need to get that damn elliptical in the house so that when the mood strikes me to get off my ass, I have a way to do so, while still staying within arms reach of my sometimes destructive 6-year-old.

     I guess my lesson from this week is that I'm human, and I can forgive myself for being one, withOUT self-destructing. This is a new concept for me. I'm learning. I'm growing. I'm locating that missing big-bright-shiny-Jenn-light, one ray at a time, even when I sometimes try to cover it back up.

A Brush With Sexual Harassment... Just Like Any Other Woman, Any Day of the Week

Photo credit: CBS News

     So this may be a good time to make it known to anyone who may be reading this and doesn't know me personally, that I am proudly, a bleeding-heart liberal. I believe in science. I believe that love is love is love is love, and I am no more worthy of it based on the fact that I am a straight female than any of my LGBTQ friends. I KNOW that Black Lives Matter. I believe in kindness, acceptance, love and compassion for others. I miss the Obamas like they are my own family, (come back, Barack!),  and I am completely and totally disgusted by the state of affairs in this country, thanks to our current administration. There. I'll give you a moment to leave, if you need to.

     Ok, still here? Cool. All of that being said, I need to relate it back to something that I encountered the other day. I had a brush with sexual harassment that I really should NOT be downplaying. I should NOT feel like it doesn't matter. I should NOT have been apologetic for it, but I was, because that's the world we live in. That's rape culture. Alive and well, and about to be voted into the highest court in all the land, in just a few hours time.

     It wasn't a huge deal, (see, there I go again), but it is bothering me so much. I had just pulled into my driveway after picking the Littles up from school, and a neighbor called out to me, asking for a lawn care contact. He was fixing up the house that he owns, after renters had moved out, and he needed the yard taken care of. When he approached the driveway, he realized that I was struggling with my little guy, who was refusing to leave the car. Trauma creates these fun-filled meltdowns at random times that are often seemingly impossible to deal with. The neighbor tried to help out, and trick my little dude into leaving the car to come show him how tall he is, or how fast he could run, but he wasn't biting. Eventually, the neighbor offered to show him how the house repairs were going, and that struck my son as interesting enough to abandon his automotive fortress. The two kids and I walked over to the house, and toured the inside, briefly saying hello to a gentleman who was tinkering with the locks. As we checked out the pool, and the kitchen, I felt the repairman's eyes on me in a super uncomfortable way. I was in a thrown-on sundress, with my hair tossed in a top knot, makeup-less, and sweating from dealing with my kid's meltdown in the 95 degree driveway. Usually when people are looking at me in those scenarios, I can tell it's either out of pity, or wondering if I'm about to keel over. This felt totally different. (Yes, eye contact can feel different. Ask any woman.) It felt predatory. I was happy to leave the house and head back home after a few minutes.

     As we got to the end of the neighbor's driveway, I heard the repairman yelling out, "Hey, hey-hey, hey!" Assuming he was talking to the home owner, I ignored him and kept heading to my house. The next thing I knew, he aggressively was patting my shoulder, still saying, "Hey, hey, hey!" Polite, gentle-mannered female that I am trained to be, I turned and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, did you need something?" He stepped WAY too close, into my personal space and leaned into me. He said, "I like the way you look very much. What is your name?" (English was not his first language, but he certainly spoke it well enough to understand what he was saying to me was NOT appropriate to be saying to a clearly married woman, with her wedding ring intact.) I was totally skeeved out, but as I am 'supposed to', I told him my name and listened to his. When he aggressively, and without having been invited to do so, took my hand and was holding it near his chest, I tried pulling back gently, not wanting to offend, (Lucky me, this man was interested in me!), but he squeezed tighter. He continued, "You look very beautiful. I like you very much. Let's get together." Blushing, I said, "Oh, thank you, but I am married. These are my kids." (Oh yeah, my friggin' KIDS were still standing at my feet, right next to this man, who was pawing at my hand, against my will.) He said, "That's ok. We can be close, close friends. Give me your number. We will get together." Now I was starting to freak out a bit. The neighbor was still standing at the top of his driveway, within earshot. Why wasn't he stepping in? I tried pulling away more forcefully, still saying, "Aw, thank you so much, but no thanks. I don't do that," but he held my hand and now wrist, tighter. "Come on," he continued to insist. I caught a glimpse of my daughter's eyes, and my stomach turned at the balls of this man, acting this way in front of my kids, let alone me. "NO,", I said, and finally pulled away. I walked quickly back to the house, and locked the door behind me, never looking back.

     What the HELL??? I immediately texted the neighbor: "How well do you know that gentleman", (Yes, I was still referring to him as a 'gentleman'!!!), "in your house? He just made me super uncomfortable." The guy texted back, "Sorry about that. He said he wanted to ask you for water, but then got taken by your beauty." What the serious FUCK? You buy that, dude? Oh no, wait... you are living up to YOUR part of our shitty-ass culture that thinks women should be flattered by any sort of attention, so you will defend his gross behavior in front of my kids. Yes, it could have been WAY worse, but that does not make anything about what happened ok. And if you're sitting here thinking, 'Well, that wasn't bad. He thought you were pretty. That's what you want with this whole weight loss thing, isn't it?' No. Fucking NO. I don't want men thinking they have the right to touch me in ANY way, make me uncomfortable, or treat me disrespectfully EVER. But you know why this was ok with the man who harassed me, (yes, that's HARASSMENT), and his employer? Because we, as a society, tell them it is. Just turn on the friggin TV and look at what we are perpetuating. It's disgusting. And it's just getting worse. I am so fearful for my daughter. She has already experienced abuse and mistreatment in her life at the age of 9. She doesn't deserve to ever have to worry about this again. And she certainly didn't deserve to have to see her mother treated like her own voice didn't matter.

     So what am I doing about it? Firstly, I warned the neighbor not to DARE give that man my contact information. I sat my daughter down and had a conversation about consent and apologized to her that I didn't set a great example for her. I should have been more firm even sooner. And I'm making sure I lock my front door, as soon as I get inside, every time I come home. And that suuuuuucks. It sucks to be concerned that maybe that dude won't take the hint, and will come over uninvited, but it would suck even more NOT to be concerned about it and to have it happen. And I am completely and totally done being polite about stuff like this. Yes, I want to be seen as a kind, friendly person, but I cannot let any man cross any lines again, and allow them to think I'll stand for it. My daughter is watching and since our political system can't protect her or show her her value, I will, X 1000, even if it makes me a "bitch".

     I encourage you to watch this clip of the incomparable Lady Gaga on the Colbert show the other night. At the 2:20 mark, they start talking about politics and Gaga brings up Dr. Ford's testimony. Then she explains, in a very eloquent and simple way, what trauma is and what the brain does with it. She absolutely nails it. Yes, men, women remember every freaking disgusting detail of their sexual misconduct, harassment and attack stories, even if they can't remember jack shit before or after it. It gets seared into out brains. Notice I am saying ALL women. That's because I don't think I know a female in this world who does not have their own #metoo moment, or several of them, or even too many to separate them. It's part of day to day life for most of us. For your wife, your girlfriend, your mother, your sister, your friends. What are YOU doing to do to make sure it's not your daughter, too? Why not start with using your vote to change the tide? The women in your life will love you even more for it. Promise.

One Month In.

Hey, you're back!

     Thanks for continuing to care how I'm doing. Maybe you're here out of support, (thanks so much!), maybe for support, (you GOT this, girl!), and maybe out of morbid curiosity to see when the fat girl will give up and get on with being fat, (I admire your honesty). No matter why you're here, I welcome you.

     So I am officially 4 weeks in and this is still so freakin' bizarre, but it's going great! Guys, I even managed to go away to Boston for a couple of nights on a mini-vacay and NOT tank myself. In the past, vacations have TOTALLY been my excuse to completely quit dieting of any kind and basically eat whatever I can get my hands on. Not this time. I mean, I did indulge a bit more than I have been while in Boston, having a few forkfuls of Chinese food, and a rich pesto flatbread pizza. Even a half of a black and white cookie! (If you're from the Northeast, or have been there, and you now live in Florida, I am certain you do not fault me for any of this, as decent Chinese food does not even exist in Orlando, nor does anything resembling an Italian pastry.) But other than my indulgences, I mostly ate the stuff I have been eating.... veggies, fruit, eggs, yogurt, etc., and stayed on track. In fact, when I came back, I was pleased to see that I had stayed the same weight. And since then? Crushin it!

Down over 25 pounds! (Over by a sneeze, but I'll take it!) I'm officially seeing a difference in clothes and stuff. The only problem is the stuff that now fits nicely that did not fit before, that I REALLY want to wear is all long sleeves and pants and Orlando weather has decided to NOT participate in Fall. 

Yuck. 

     So how am I keeping motivated? Seriously, my Spotify playlist is helping a TON. (Check it out! Get It Girl, on Spotify) I have always known that music is a super powerful tool. It helps amplify and give voice to feelings, and that is exactly what many of these songs are doing for me right now. Have you ever listened to Sarah Bareillies's "She Used To Be Mine", from the musical, "Waitress"? It's amazing. Hauntingly sad, but also so incredibly real and relatable. Here's the link, and the lyrics:

It's not simple to say

That most days I don't recognize me

That these shoes and this apron

That place and its patrons

Have taken more than I gave them

It's not easy to know

I'm not anything like I used be, although it's true

I was never attention's sweet center

I still remember that girl

She's imperfect, but she tries

She is good, but she lies

She is hard on herself

She is broken and won't ask for help

She is messy, but she's kind

She is lonely most of the time

She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie

She is gone, but she used to be mine

It's not what I asked for

Sometimes life just slips in through a back door

And carves out a person and makes you believe it's all true

And now I've got you

And you're not what I asked for

If I'm honest, I know I would give it all back

For a chance to start over and rewrite an ending or two

For the girl that I knew

Who'll be reckless, just enough

Who'll get hurt, but who learns how to toughen up

When she's bruised and gets used by a man who can't love

And then she'll get stuck

And be scared of the life that's inside her

Growing stronger each day 'til it finally reminds her

To fight just a little, to bring back the fire in her eyes

That's been gone, but used to be mine

Used to be mine

She is messy, but she's kind

She is lonely most of the time

She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie

She is gone, but she used to be mine. 

Beautiful, huh? I may not be a waitress, and I may not be stuck with a man who can't love.... and I don't even want any redo's, but I can relate so well to losing yourself and not knowing who you've become. That's how I started on this journey, afterall. Call it a mid-life crisis, if you want, but I think most 30 or 40 somethings can relate to this feeling of loss. You do have to give yourself a human moment to mourn the things that you did not become, that you thought you would, but you also have to take that minute to realize there's still time. Life may be a whirlwind right now, but there's still time to seek out those parts of your life that you wanted and perhaps gave up on. I'm trying to use that idea as my rocket fuel to keep moving forward. It's working for the moment, so I'm gonna go with it. 

    What kind of dreams and hopes have you given up on? Is there a way to still reach for it? I bet there is. And I believe in you. Get it, girl. (Or Guy.)