Memories.

I do this every once in awhile… I get this itch to go through one of the five – yes, five – boxes I have of photos I’ve accumulated since the 8th grade. Photos of friends, school, cheerleading, soccer, dancing, boys, boys, BOYS. I’m so happy I’ve kept all of these pictures, because whenever I pull them out I genuinely laugh. All alone, on my bed, I laugh at myself and at the memories. Sometimes I even cry.

Looking back through three of those boxes tonight, I wanted to take some time to reflect on what I like to consider the three greatest loves of my life thus far; J.J., Brach, and Anthony.

The purpose of this blog initially was to take a look at my past relationships, analyze them now that I’m out of the fog of heartbreak, and learn. Since I’ve only done that with a couple of relationships, I’m going to start making my own rules and do it the way it comes to me.

I once asked my Mom if there was a guy I’d dated that she thought I was going to marry. She answered without hesitation – J.J. and Brach. When I was with them (each for two years), I was certain that they were the ones I’d spend my life with. Looking at photos of them tonight, I’m filled with this strange mix of happiness and extreme sadness. I don’t talk to either of them anymore, and it kind of kills me. We shared so many experiences and emotions and feelings, the least we could do is stay in touch… Right?

I met J.J. when I moved to San Diego. I had just turned 19, I’d just lost 40 pounds, and I was in a new town. I wanted to reinvent myself; into what, I wasn’t sure. I just knew that I was finally where I was supposed to be.

When we met, J.J. was incredibly shy. I practically had to tackle him to give him the hint that I was interested. In fact, one of the photos I stumbled across tonight is one of a giant hickey (no shit) that he gave me the first night we kissed. It was absolutely ridiculous, and my roommate at the time decided it needed to be immortalized on film. Embarrassing, but hysterical now.

We were both so young when we got together, and in the two years of that relationship, we changed so much. We grew apart and broke up amicably, and actually ended up having classes together at the college we had transferred into together. Eventually J.J. got a girlfriend, whom I believe he’s still with to this day, and we stopped talking. I drunk-dialed him once (I still have his number memorized – still!) and we talked for a short while. After that night, I ran into his sister, who promptly told me to stop trying to contact him. Ouch.

I truly loved J.J. with everything I had, and he was absolutely my first love. Maybe if we’d met later in life, we would have ended up together. From what I could tell of the photos, and from what my memory allows me to reach, we had an amazing time while we were together… So young, SO in love. Like nothing else mattered.

I wonder if I’ll find that feeling again… I certainly hope I do. With J.J., I could be completely myself, and he was so compatible. We were both complete goofballs… For lack of a better term, I guess. I think a piece of me still loves him, and always will. The romantic in me will never die.

I wish I had a better photo saved on my computer, but oh well. <3

 

Hell hath no fury…

Here I am again – on the tail end of another unsuccessful, rushed relationship.

Loving him was like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street; faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly.

Ugh.

I met Joe at a friends’ wedding – yes, I know, red flag number one. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he first saw me. I was staying at a friend’s house as the wedding was out of state, and I was running late. Running around in the basement (apparently they legitimately have basements on the east coat), trying to get my hair to curl just so. I had planned this outfit for months – a gorgeous navy blue tea-length dress that fit like it had been made for me. My hair, platinum blonde. My eyes, smoldering. Lips ruby red. It couldn’t have been more perfect… Well, except maybe if I were on time.

I rushed up the stairs to ask my friend to zip me up, and there he was. A cute boy in a blue button down, a red tie, and cheeks to match. I was so frazzled I didn’t really see him until the reception. (In fact, I actually asked him to zip me up. His hands were shaky, it was adorable.)

Since he didn’t know anyone else at the wedding, we decided to be buddies and stick together. He was sweet, kind, soft-spoken. The reception was fun, but the bar we all went to afterwards was much more eventful.

After Joe had a few drinks in him, and we’d been talking for a long time, he decided that he was suddenly a brazen Lothario. “I think you should kiss me,” he said.

“What? No, no I don’t think so. I’m wearing red lipstick.” (What? Smooth, real smooth.)

I really think you should kiss me. I’m a very good kisser, and I’m really sweet about it. C’mon.

And suddenly, I was kissing him. And he was really sweet about it. Just writing about it now made my stomach do a tiny somersault.

We danced and kissed the whole night, then we parted ways. He was on the east coast for work for at least another six weeks, so we got to develop a very deep connection via phone calls, text messages, and Skype sessions. Joe is a very sweet boy. Emphasis on boy.

Joe is two years younger than I am, which isn’t a lot, but it is. He just got out of the military, and has never really had this type of freedom in his life. I honestly thought we were going to make it.

We met in LA about 2 weeks before he moved back where I live, because we couldn’t stand not seeing each other in person, and I had a work thing there. The weekend was amazing, but even then, I should have seen the signs that we were destined to fail. The differing opinion on drug use (Joe doesn’t use because of his job, but I think he might if he could get away with it…) was just one thing I should have caught on to.

When Joe moved back here, things spiraled – quickly. His friends are… For lack of a better term… Uncivilized. Seriously. These are people that go out with the sole purpose of getting completely shit-faced. They’re actually pleased with themselves when they don’t remember that the cops were called on them the night before.

Joe doesn’t get into trouble, but these are the people he hangs out with. I couldn’t deal with it. When he got home, the long calls and the sweet text messages stopped. Joe is a very sweet boy, but he’s an awful boyfriend.

We broke up very amicably, and continued to talk nearly every night on Skype. We were talking more without the official title, which in retrospect was really unfair to me. We made plans to see each other in a few weeks for a Star Wars marathon, as I’ve never seen those movies and Joe thinks that makes me un-American and possibly an alien. I agreed, but only if we could watch Magic Mike to break up the madness.

I think a piece of me has been holding on to Joe, and it all came crashing down last night.

A couple of his insane friends were getting married in Vegas last weekend, and I was actually supposed to go with Joe. I’d requested the time off and everything. He offered for me to accompany him despite breaking up, but… Uh, no. I don’t think so.

Last night he got on Skype, and I asked him how it went. He said everyone had fun except for him, which is odd because Joe has fun everywhere he goes. “Well, my date ditched me and missed her flight home. I didn’t hear from her until a couple of hours ago.”

Long, pregnant pause.

His date. His date?!

We broke up 5 seconds ago, and he’d already secured a date to a wedding?!

“You had a date?” I said.

A bunch of responses, and then I imploded. I logged off of Skype, I deactivated me Facebook, and did not respond to the subsequent text message, “don’t be upset…”

I may be overreacting, but I’m definitely over feeling like I lost. Not in the way that you lose a game, but in the way that you lose something, someone. The last 3 relationships I’ve been in have ended in me feeling deflated, out of control, and unwanted. I’m so sick of it.

I’ve said this before, and hopefully this time it actually sticks, but… I need to focus on myself. On my friends. On my mind/body/spirit. I’m over being crushed, because honestly, I’m fucking awesome.

So, here’s to another failed relationship. The last one I will rush into and be crushed by.

This is the night the cops were called on Joe’s friends. Laaame.

 

Holy fucking shit.

Oh, hi new tattoo.

So………………… It’s been awhile.

I just went over all of my posts, and had several reactions:

• First and foremost, I’m sorely disappointed that I once again “bailed” on this blog, as it’s been about 15 months since I’ve last written.
• Tears. So many tears, for so many reasons.
• Laughs, and gratitude. I’m so glad I put the beginnings of Anthony’s relationship with me into words. It’s so beautiful, poignant, innocent, sweet… Surreal. Absolutely surreal.

I was actually thinking to myself the past few days about how lucky I truly am. This year – 2012, what?! – has been so eventful and so [for lack of a more agnostic term] blessed, that I can’t even begin to write about it. Seriously, it’s been insane.

I’m going to do what I said I wouldn’t in this blog by recapping, because I’m (futilely?) hoping that I’ll continue with it… But if I don’t, I want to look back and read it with smiles and tears and regrets and happiness. I am a nostalgic bitch, afterall.

Work is…. So different since my last post! We’ve been taken over by a new company and some very key figures have been let go, and things have drastically changed for what I can honestly say the absolute worst. I seriously wonder how TCWC will survive every. single. day. It’s horrific. (I mean strictly “politicially” – while there are some key figures missing, we have some die-hards that refuse to let this bitch die. Thank GAWD.) I still LOVE what I do with every fiber of my being, but my “higher-ups” are idiots who have no concept of what our facility represents. I certainly hope we can withstand this blasphemous change.

Onward to the tears… So many tears. The last time I wrote, Ant and I were at the beginnings of our relationship and Jess and I were having a hard time with our new friendship. Since then, so much has happened…

Ant and I continued dating. I fell in love with Anthony, and he deployed 10/31/2011. After several discussions (arguments?) about our future, he decided it would be best that we “broke up” while he was deployed, and that I do “what I want”. What? I was so devastated, as I was willing to wait for him, be everything for him… But Anthony is nothing if not completely mature. He made the right decision, he really did.

While he was deployed in Afghanistan, we still e-mailed each other. He called when he could, we Skyped on occasion, and I still held a torch for him. I dated other people [upon his instruction!!!] while he was gone, and I’m certain that changed the dynamic of our relationship.

He was held in Afghanistan for much longer than 7 months for reasons I can’t even delve into here without my fucking brain exploding, but he’s recently returned and things are…. Awful. For me, anyway. Upon seeing him for the first time in nearly a year, I swear to god, I’ve never felt what I felt in that moment. Tears, rage, excitement, love, so much love. After a very disheartening homecoming (I didn’t know how to act around him for several reasons, let alone all of our friends watching on), we had wild, passionate, amazing sex………. After which he told me that he wants to “try being friends”.

I am……………… Devastated.

I don’t know how to be Anthony’s friend. We never were friends. I’ve hung out with him a couple of times since then, and I can’t reconcile the feelings I have… I simply can’t. I’m so in love with Anthony, and I can’t be his friend.

I’ve made the conscious decision that I will stay away from Anthony as much as possible, because it is literally painful to be around him. I cannot stand it. I cry over the stupidest shit. It’s… Insane.

So, here I am. 26, heartbroken, salt in the wounds after several super-unsuccessful math.com dates (DON’T. ASK. No, seriously. Don’t. EVER). And this is life as I know it. I’m so torn, as this year has been insanely awesome and ridiculously heartbreaking… So I’ll just post a slideshow and [try to] be better at posting at this yearbook of my life. Mothafuckin’ cheers.

Florida to meet Anthony’s family, July 2011.

Right before Anthony deployed.

Oregon with the Mootharts!

Quarterly! NO BROKEN FOOT!

Rob… A boy I dated during Ant’s deployment. HUGE mistake. Exploration later.

Jess & Paul Caporaso’s WEDDING in PHILLY! One of the best weekends of my life.

Skyping with Anthony while he was in Afghanistan… I was literally beaming for WEEKS.

Sugar, We’re Goin’ Down

Wow, what a historic day.

Today, as I sat on my mom’s computer updating my twitter, the internet exploded with news of Osama Bin Laden’s death. 9 years, 7 months and 20 days after 9/11, the horrific attack on U.S. soil that I will remember for all of my life, the leader of Al Qaeda was killed and his body was brought back to our country as proof. I wouldn’t necessarily consider myself “patriotic” – I mean, I partake in political discussion and have some pretty passionate views about particular issues, but I’ve always been a bit uncomfortable with the… How do I say, “in-your-face, boot in yer ass” American enthusiasts. I am very aware of how lucky I am to live in this country, and of course I love it, but I’ve just never been that person. Today, though, I swell with pride. It may be because I’m dating a U.S. Marine, and I’ve made so many Marine friends in the last 6 months that I consider to be amazing people, but as I watched President Obama address our nation, every muscle in me was taut, my eyes huge, my hands clasped together in hope/fear/pride.

Anthony sent me a text moments after I found out via twitter – “Turn on the news.” I responded 45 minutes later with this:

“Wow – when I’m asked where I was the day Osama was killed, I get to think about having had sex not once, but twice with a U.S. Marine that day. Thanks!”

He responded with “That’s an awesome text…. Green flag.” Color me happy.

So, clearly, things with him are definitely ON. I spoke to Jess about it earlier in the week, because I wanted to be completely honest with her and lay everything out, as my friendship with her is so important to me. We hugged it out, she told me we were good, and I believed her. After this weekend, though, I’m fairly certain she is definitely not cool with the situation. Despite my efforts, she is acting for lack of a better term, like a crazy bitch. It hurts my feelings because I truly adore her, but I’m past the point of trying to please her anymore. I can’t let someone else dictate who I talk to, especially when there are absolutely no legitimate reasons for her objection to my relationship with Anthony. I’m just going to stop worrying about it and let her get over it [or not get over it] in her own time.

We went out to dinner and a movie a couple of nights ago. He stayed the night, we had fun in the hot tub… He’s a fantastic kisser. Have I mentioned that yet? I might have…

The next day was the “Family Day” BBQ thing he invited me to on base. I was actually pretty excited he invited me, so I bought a super cute outfit and I have to say, I’m certain his Marines were impressed. Oh, he was too. While I was chatting with a young couple, they asked how long we’d been “talking”. We both looked at each other and started cracking up because I’m sure we looked as though we’ve been together awhile. Very lovey-dovey hand-holding and kisses here and there. We didn’t know what to say except that we’ve known each other for about 6 months and just recently started dating. After the BBQ we went to find a healthy lunch for me to eat and had a nice time… Came home, had awesome sex. He invited me to this dinner he had planned with a friend who was in town, and I’m actually shocked to report that I declined the invite. I’m pretty proud of myself, because I usually get caught up in a guy and want to spend every waking moment with him. I genuinely didn’t want to go; possibly out of fear that we’ll get sick of each other, but regardless I’m proud that I stayed home.

That night we all went out to celebrate the return of Paul, Jess’ boyfriend, from a field op. Well, all of us except Jess. So 5 Marines, Uriel and myself went out dancing. I had way too much to drink (by the way, definitely not looking forward to weighing in this week. Uh oh!) and actually got sick when we got home. Anthony took care of me and even came to BodyCOMBAT this morning… Afterwards we got coffee, goofed around at his house, had more awesome sex, and then I left. Again, he invited me to go run some errands with him, which I declined. Yay for mature, non-clingy me.

We were talking earlier today about a wide array of topics, and I learned quite a bit about Anthony. He is definitely more trouble than he’s probably worth, but at least I have some perspective on the situation. I don’t see it stopping any time soon, and I’m okay with not knowing that for sure. I’m actually relieved that we don’t talk about what “this” is, or what it means, or where we’re going. We just… Are. It’s nice.

Well, I’ll finish this post with a picture of Jess and I, before everything got all weird. I’m not sure if this is the end of our friendship or if it’s just changing… I’ll hope for the best, and prepare for the worst.

Padres vs. Phillies... or C vs. J?

Backstabber.

… I’m a bad blogger.

It’s been so long!

Instead of doing what I normally feel obligated to do in this situation (re-hash EVERYTHING that has happened in the past few weeks – for who? Good question), I’m going to just write about everything going on in my brain. I’m such a happy/crazy/sad mess right now. I need to get all of this out.

There’s a guy that I’m involved with, which breaks rule #1 of my I’m-not-dating-anyone-so-I-can-figure-myself-out life-plan. In my defense, I had no idea I was getting involved until it was thrust upon me. He is a friend of a good friend of mine – more precisely, he is her roommate and I am her boss. Jess is one of those girl friends that came into  my life and I knew instantly I had to have her as a friend. It’s so difficult to make girl friends, and she is absolutely awesome. We have so much fun together, and I truly cherish my friendship with her. She’s been with her boyfriend for 2 years. He’s a Marine, and they live with 2 other Marines. Naturally, we’ve all hung out quite a few times now. The one roommate, Anthony, is totally ripped and ridiculously good looking, but he’s lacking in the height department. I’d say he’s about 3, maybe 4 inches taller than me. Definitely no more than 5’8. I always considered that so sad, because he’s hysterical and smart and all of the aforementioned… Just… Short.

He and I had a very sarcastic snarky relationship from the start, which I enjoyed because I like to be pushed in that way to an extent. He comes to the gym every once in a while, and sometimes to my classes. I honestly always thought he had a secret thing for Jess. To be honest, I still believe that.

Then things got… Sticky.

A couple of weeks ago, he asked when we were hanging out. I told him when I was free, assuming that he was trying to get all of us together, like we always do. I then received a text from Jess : “I heard you’re going on a date with Anthony.” I responded with “Uuuhh, what? No.” to which she replied telling me that he was under the impression that we were, in fact, going on a date. He called me and asked where he could pick me up, “So it can be an official date”, and I told him I was unaware of this situation. I’m getting lengthy here, but we ended up going out for dinner and I had a fantastic time. We never ran out of things to talk about, we had some good laughs, he was a gentleman, etc. It was nice to just go hang out with someone and not think about where it was going or what we were doing. We just enjoyed ourselves. After dinner, we went back to his house (Jess’ house) and watched movies. I went home a happy camper.

I propositioned him a few days later to go catch a movie, and so we did… It was scary, I was jumpy, he was cuddly. After the movie ended, I suggested watching nice happy movies at my house, so I would actually be able to sleep, as I’m a total baby. We watched one of my favorites, cuddled up on the couch… He kissed me, it was absolutely amazing. He stayed the night, we didn’t sleep, we kissed… And kissed… And kissed some more……

This is where I get angry with myself. This is where feelings begin to develop. This is where the stickiness becomes cement.

A few days later, we went to a baseball game with Jess and another co-worker. Jess, who has a boyfriend, is not happy with this situation. For reasons unknown to anyone, she is livid that we are laughing and holding hands. I try to talk to her, she tries to explain herself, and we kind of just… Drop it. We get home and she stomps up to her room, no goodnight, no goodbye. I am shattered.

I ask Anthony what we should do – he is angry with her as she is acting like a crazy person. I tell him I don’t want to jeopardize my friendship with her. “Do you want to stop seeing each other?” he asks. I stare. He continues, “I don’t want to stop talking, but if you think we should then we will. I just don’t think we should let someone else dictate who we date.” He’s right, I’m convinced. We go to bed, have mind-blowing sex while Jess is in the next room, and take a shower together. He is sweet the next morning, telling me he’s glad I stayed the night. I agree, while thinking in the back of my mind that this is a very bad feeling to have for this particular person. I leave and try to shake my thoughts of him, but can’t seem to.

Things with Jess have been rocky, and I hate it. One friend says I need to lay it all out for her, apologize for the loud sex, and let her know I care. Another says I don’t need to explain myself, we’re both adults and she should get the fuck over it. I agree with both sides.

I’ve gone through a roller coaster of emotions toward Anthony this week – excitement, fear, anger, anxiety, hopefulness, regret. We didn’t talk at all one day, and the next he called to ask me to be his date this weekend for a Marine function. The next day he called and asked if I was angry with him, because he hadn’t heard from me. I’m trying to make myself unavailable and distance myself, because I am 100% positive that he will hurt me. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that he has no intention of pursuing anything further with me – because of what he’s said, because of what Jess has said, because of advise I’ve been given, because of my gut feeling. So why, in the back of my mind, do I think Oh, there might be a chance… Maybe if I just……

I need to stop thinking that way.

I’m going to make 3 lists: Pros, Cons, and Red Flags. I’ll start with the flags.

RED FLAGS:

• He has never said “I love you” before.
• He’s only had 2 girlfriends.
• Jess says he has no intention of pursuing anything, with anyone. So does Uriel, someone’s opinion I highly value.
  
• The last girl I saw him with was there and then gone without any warning.
• He has cheated on 1 of his 2 girlfriends.
• He’s a Marine.
• He has a strange relationship with a girl that cheated on her boyfriend with him, in which he talks to her daily.

PROS:

• He is an excellent kisser.
• He is a gentleman (when he wants to be).
• He is a great fuck.
• He told Jess awhile back he wanted to ask me out. (She gave her blessing assuming I’d say no.)
• His body is ridiculous.
• He is incredibly smart, and thoughtful.
• He pays for everything.
• He asked me to be his date to a formal Marine function this weekend.
• He’s a Marine.

CONS:

• He deploys in October.
• He doesn’t pay as much attention to me as I’d like.
• Our… Relationship? Thing? Bothers Jess.
• He is incredibly flirty when we go out. With everyone. Not just me.
• When he calls, we chat for a very short time – it’s like, get the info out, and done. It’s odd.
• I do not trust him. I do not trust me around him.
• My heart and my head tell me that he will inevitably, without doubt, hurt me if I allow myself to pursue things with him.
• He’s a Marine.

And so, here I lay, wondering how I got myself into this mess when I’m supposed to be focusing on making myself a stronger, better woman. I guess I’ll just have to see how things play out on Saturday…

Also, I realize I am a crazy person and I’m probably reading into/putting too much pressure on whatever this is. Damn I’m an idiot.

Good news is, I’m down 15 pounds. Fuck. Yes.

My Immortal

I am not a religious person. Far from it. In fact, I would even go so far as to say I’m anti-religion. It brings war, fear, hypocrisy, and quite honestly, evil, into this world. I can’t stand it.

I was raised in a… “Christian” home, and I went to a private Christian school from pre-school until 7th grade. This, in hindsight, is so funny to me considering my dad is very anti-religion. But I digress.

At some point I realized that I was unhappy, and I wasn’t sure why. I knew that I was going to be going to a local public high school because of it’s high prestige soccer program, which at that age was what I had decided to pursue when I grew up. I also realized that going into that public high school, I would know absolutely no one. I would be alone, in a public school system, for my first year in high school. Even at the age of 13 I knew this was unacceptable. I told my parents that I wanted to transfer to a public middle school for 8th grade. Surprisingly, they thought my logic was credible and agreed that yes, this would be best.

Now, I still had the hurdle of not knowing anyone at this school, either. My mom had the brilliant idea that I should join a sport that started in the summer, so I could at least make a few common-interest friends before school started. The only “sport” that started before school was in session was cheerleading. Being a life-long dancer, it was very easy for me to make the squad… So interesting, because up until then I had been the proverbial tomboy. 8th grade was such a huge year for my persona – I was the new girl, the new cheerleader girl. I wasn’t a dork anymore. I could be… Whoever I wanted. I loved it. But more than that, I loved that I didn’t have a Bible class, or chapel every Thursday. I realized very quickly that I had been living in a bubble, and I developed the strong opinion that I had been brainwashed all those years. Losing my religion was so easy, and I’ve never looked back.

I hate to think about it, because sometimes it genuinely scares me and shakes me to my core. I believe that there is something out there, I really do… If anything I put all of my “faith” in fate. I firmly believe in fate. But as far as any organized religion? It’s blasphemous to say, or even type, but… It’s all bull shit.

Anyway, the reason I chose to write about this topic tonight is because of an encounter I had today. I’m still in this ridiculous boot with no end in sight, and I had no options for a sub for BodyCOMBAT. I decided I would have to become a MASTER at cueing, and just take the lower options of everything. I miss teaching so much that I tackled the challenge head on, and I have to say, that’s probably one of the best classes I’ve taught in awhile. (Granted, I haven’t even taught at all for awhile! ha.) My BodyCOMBAT participants are easily the most laid back people I deal with at our facility, which is just amazing to me, considering it’s such an aggressive program. They were absolutely supportive of my teaching and thanked me afterwords for doing so, which made my day. One of my regulars approached me, whose name I can never remember, which makes me feel so bashful and ashamed to talk to her one-on-one. It’s one of those things where I would look like a complete ass if I asked for her name… Again. After all of this time. Anyway, she came to ask what I’d done to my foot. I explained and she said to me, “I’m going to pray for your foot”, to which I replied “I’ll take all I can get!” She turned around and asked, “Would you like me to pray for it right now? With you?” I froze, nervous. For some reason, I heard myself say “Sure”, and before I knew it, she was holding my hand and kneeling by my foot. I closed my eyes, and she touched my hideous boot, and she prayed. She asked God to heal all of my tendons and ligaments, and for it to happen quickly, so I can enjoy my body the way I was meant to. She said a few other things, and then she was done. I thanked her, and she left.

I am not a religious person. I truly despise organized religion. But there was something so absolutely sweet about that moment, about that gesture, that it really touched me. Was it God reaching out to me, trying to touch me? I don’t believe that. I believe that I was reminded that there are really sweet-natured people out there, that are so few and far between that they should be cherished. Regardless of her beliefs, I so appreciated her gesture. If that’s an act of God, then I’ll take it. But I doubt it.

She’s My Winona.

Just got home from SH’BAM training… Only I didn’t actually get to participate, so we’ll just call it SH’BAM cheerleading. The girls I sent to the training are doing great, I’m so proud of them. I just wish I could be right there with them, sweating and smiling.

Saw a specialist about my foot yesterday… I likely have a severe strain, not a stress fracture. I’m not sure if this is good news or bad; all I know is it still hurts, so I’m not a happy camper. I have made very little improvement, if any at all, which worries me. Mostly, obviously, because I’ve been stripped of what brings me joy and passion, but also because it complicates things for me at work. My biggest fear is letting people down… I’m extremely passionate about these programs, and so are they. It kills me to have to re-arrange things because of something that sounds and seems so small. I’m……. Frustrated.

However, on a positive note… I lost 6.6 pounds my first week back on program! I couldn’t believe it when I stepped on the scale. It was actually a little disturbing, as it’s very indicative of how poor my eating habits had become. I was teaching like crazy and able to eat what I wanted most of the time. I’m scared that I’ll lapse into those habits again, but I think I’m even more afraid that I’ll become a calorie-counting-freak who can’t look at anything without estimating it’s caloric value and the possible damage it could do to my waistline. I wonder if this time around I can find that happy medium.

I’m proud of myself, because I’ve been out with friends about 6 or 7 times since I started back on program, and not once have I strayed. I’m discovering that I’m the type of person that needs some form of structure – but here’s the catch: it can’t be self-imposed, or I will fail. I need to answer to someone other than myself, or I won’t stick to it. I wonder why I can’t hold myself to anything. Aren’t I doing this for myself? Of course I am. So why can’t I discipline myself to do what I know I need to do on my own? Possibly something for later self-exploration.

Anyway, I’m sure my weight loss this week won’t be as big as my first week. I always have this fear that I haven’t lost anything, which would not only be disheartening but embarrassing. Oy.

I am noticing small differences; my legs look smaller, tops are fitting nicer. If my foot would just hurry up and heal, I could speed up this process… But more importantly, I could get back to doing what I LOVE; connecting with people by doing something we all have in common and hold dear. Sending myself positive vibes… From the top of my head to the tips of my toes.