Si, se puede!

I've always had a mind of my own. Even when I was a child, I liked to do things my way. I was the kind of bratty kid that adults HATE. Because we're too annoying to be cute and too young to have the Hell smacked out of us. I never listened, never followed the rules, and made it my life's mission to test boundaries and push buttons. Yep Campers, I was my mother's pride and joy.

Once, when I was 6, my mom was driving around with my sisters and me. It was a sweltering summer day in the 90 degree Florida heat. The two door, '82 Rabbit my mother had was about the same amount of Hot as Dante's eighth level of Hell and you could have boiled water on those seats. It was an inferno. And I, being the privileged eldest daughter that I was, was perched (smugly) in the (much coveted and argued over) passenger side window seat (YES!).

Like I said, it was stifling and, since this was the stone age and AC in cars didn't exist yet (at least not in my world!), Mama asked me to roll down the window. And, of course, being the perfectly angelic saint that I was, I replied with a flippant and indifferent "NO".

No rhyme or reason for it. I was melting just like everyone else. I guess I just wanted to push her buttons. And it worked. She was gearing up to whip me into shape with one of those withering looks that all mothers must master before they are allowed to graduate from Lamaze class, when. . . . a police cruiser plowed into us and sent us careening into a nearby Oak tree.

The accident was bad. My mom had to go the the hospital because the force of the crash had caused her to swallow some of her teeth. There was blood. And screams. And chaos. It was an ugly scene. But my sisters and I walked away. Unscathed. All because a bratty 6 year old told her mother "No". Had that window have been down, the force of that cruiser on the passenger side door would have caused me (and my sisters) to fly out of the window. We would have been killed. That "No" saved our lives.

Last year, I went on vacation with my best friend. We went to Stone Mountain and decided it would be fun to get on the Sky Mountain Ride. Now what this is, for those of you who believe in self preservation, is a "ride" where you're placed in a harness and then strapped to a string and told to navigate yourself around an obstacle course that's about 300 ft in the air. Did I mention you're only attached by a string?

This all seems REALLY entertaining when you're on the ground. Unfortunately, it sort of loses it's luster when you're actually IN THE AIR. In a harness. Attached to a piece of dental floss. Doesn't seem like much fun then. Seems REALLY stupid then.

I wanted to chicken out SO badly. I wanted to be a punk, tuck my tail between my legs, and live to fight another day. But I couldn't. Because she was DOING it. I couldn't be the wimp. I had already said I would do it. I had already said "Yes".

So I swallowed my fear (though I SO would have preferred to be swallowing just about ANYthng else! Chips. Cake. Fettuccine Alfredo . . .. the list is endless!) and instantly grew the biggest pair of cojones this side of the Mason-Dixon line. Then, I navigated that course.

And I LOVED it!

It was exhilarating and scary and wonderful all at once.

Sure, my heart stopped about every 30 seconds. Sure, I was scared witless the whole time. But I DID it. And that "Yes" turned out to be one of the most rewarding things I've ever done! I had a blast! (Later, I found out that she wanted to back out too, but didn't because of me. Go figure. )

So I started to think about the power of "Yes" and "No". I'd heard about this idea (Thanks Sylvia!), but never paid it much attention. But now. . . .

"Yes" and "No". Two tiny words that pack so much power. Have you ever stopped to think about how much our lives are defined by those two words. "Yes" and "No".

Our lives are a testament to the choices we've made. Thus, they are essentially shaped by those two words. They are formed and created by the things we say "Yes" to and the things we say "No" to. Whether it's our finances or our marriages, our jobs or the food on our plates, it all comes down to "Yes" and "No".

And neither is more important than the other. Because they are inseparable. They cannot exist apart from each other. For every "Yes" there is an implication of "No" and vice versa.

When I said "No" to being held captive and paralyzed in a marriage that was killing me, I was implicitly saying "Yes" to the life transforming power of freedom. And as I learn to say "Yes" to loving MYSELF more often, I am implicitly saying "No" to those things that shatter my self-esteem and exploit my insecurities. Saying "Yes" to me is, in effect, saying "No" to a lot of the foolishness that flat-out serves no purpose in helping me become the best Suprchik Leogirl I can be. (And moreover, stress and foolishness cause wrinkles! So NOT the look this Leogirl is going for!).

And one word over the other isn't the key to success either. Your life won't be roses and peaches because you always say "Yes" and it won't be miserable because you always say "No". Life is about balance. The right path isn't found by a string of "Yes"s or a string of "No"s. It's somewhere in the middle. And it's there, in that middle ground, that we find ourselves ready to make smart choices.

Sometimes we say yes, sometimes we say no. But the goal is to make good choices that lead us towards becoming the best versions of ourselves that we can be. It's about learning that our "Yes"s and our "No"s have POWER.

They have the power to create and the power to destroy. They have the power to challenge and the power to allow us to remain mired in mediocrity. They have the power to heal and the power to harm. They can save lives or they can end them.

Those words challenged me to experience something that scared me. And I walked away with the knowledge that I am stronger than I think I am. Those words have led me towards becoming more confident in myself and less willing to accept what isn't good enough for me. They've helped me discern who I want to be and given me the courage to become that person.

They even saved my life.

What will they do for you?

The power is yours.

Pics Taken: 04/19/09 Weight:197.2 Measurements: Waist(38"), Bust(40"), Hips(44.5"), Thigh(28"), Arm(15.5"), Gut(42'')

Pics and Stats: The Numbers Game

Just to let y'all know

I will be posting some new updated shots. I have my next weigh in on 04/19/09 and I'll be posting new full body shots then. Thanks for the suggestion! Didn't mean to keep you guys in the dark :)

P.S. here are my weigh-in/picture post dates from now unil my Cali vacation:

04/19/09
05/04/09
05/19/09

Check back often to clock my progress!

Hasta!

Everyone has one

I was listening to Eminem the other day (old Em, not any of this "Crack a Bottle" ? crap) and one of the lines in the song was about how his insecurities could eat him alive. And I thought to myself, "Huh, I hear you ,Dude". Only thing is, with me, it's the reverse. It's me trying to gobble up my insecurities.

I'm an emotional eater. If I'm happy, I eat. Sad, I eat. Angry, I eat. Lonely, I eat. . . ya'll get the idea. For every emotion I have, there's a food for that. Kinda like Visine. Food is my barometer for life. It's my constant.

I used to say that I didn't have an addictive personality. I'm not into drugs. Not huge on drinking. I don't gamble. Don't stay up all night surfing the net for porn. Nada de eso. I've never had any habit in my life that I just couldn't walk away from. Except food.

Food is my drug of choice. Completely legal. Absolutely available. All day. Everyday.

And I am completely addicted.

I'm a junkie.

Just as sunken, frail bodies,and track marks are telltale signs of heroin addiction; so is it that pudgy, doughy tummies and back fat are a dead give away that you (or your loved one) is caught in the throes of a heartbreaking food addiction. Yes boys and girls, there is a food addict near you! (Why isn't there an add campaign for that?).

My body is a walking, neon poster for the ills of food addiction.

But where does this addiction come from? Is my brain hard wired for this? Is it genetic (Thanks Dad!). A bad childhood? Or is it something deeper?

It would be easy to blame all this on things I can't control. My genetics. Insanity. Something! But deep down I know that's a bunch of hogwash. This isn't insanity. But it is in my head.

The truth is that my emotions feed my frenzy. I let my emotions feed my frenzy.

I don't like to deal with unpleasant things. I never really have.

So, I eat my misery. I slurp down my bitterness. If my day (or life) gets ugly and mean, I'll look for (and find?) something that resembles joy and peace hidden inside the wondrous delights of Lindt White Chocolate truffles (yeah, like the whole bag!) or the salty decadence of Lay's Sour Cream and Onion chips. And I'll tell myself it's OK. I'm good. I'm happy.

But it's a lie.

The layers of fat that wrap my body like a burly winter coat are a testament to the last fight I had with my husband.The globular boobs that hang from my chest and threaten to pop the buttons on my shirt are the result of a little (or a lot!) too much fun at my best friend's party last weekend. The flooding tide of tummy fat that threatens to burst the zippers of my pants, that's looking a lot like that report at work I missed the deadline for. My exploding rear end that keeps straining the the seams of my pants, that's that day I had this horrible epiphany that I would always be alone. The muffin top that bubbles over the edge of my jeans, that's the day I thought about all the things I regret.

See. This addiction isn't much different than any other. It has it's triggers. It's wrought with it's excuses. It's riddled with it's own broken promises. But breaking these promises seem unusually vicious. Because these are broken promises that we've made to OURSELVES!

Do you know how many "Last Meals" I've had? Only to have the same "Last Meal" the following week? And the week after that. And the week after that. And the . . . . . Stop the insanity!

So the first step is admitting I have a problem.

Like everyone.

Because everyone has one. Everyone has a crutch. Everyone uses something to hide behind so that they don't have to feel the things that hurt too much to talk about. Whether it's drugs or alcohol, porn or gambling, video games or . . . food, we all have something.

The trick is learning to control our emotions rather than letting them control us. It's finding that strength within that says "I'm better than this". It's about replacing something that's killing you with something that brings you closer to the fullness of life. It's about finding real and lasting joy and peace and not settling for cheap substitutes. It's about seeing through the lies of our insecurities (and our addictions) and knowing that we have so much more to offer. It's about finding that thing that's holding us captive and fighting like hell to be free of it.

And getting mad as hell if anything tries to stop us.

Sometimes that means getting a new routine. Sometimes that means finding a new place to hang out. Sometimes that means a new job. Sometimes it means changing your phone number. Sometimes it means moving away. Sometimes it means making new friends. Sometimes it means a whole new life. Sometimes it means saying "Goodbye". And sometimes it means just walking away.

And everytime it means making a choice between the poison and the cure.

What do you choose?