Monthly Archives: July 2012

Don’t let anyone else define “you”


You know yourself better than anyone.

Don’t let anyone define you, your limitations or your self-worth. There are plenty of people that want to shove their own opinions about how you should be living down your throat. Don’t let them do that.

Reach for things you may even think are beyond your fingertips, you may find that they are closer than you ever dreamed once you stretch a little. I never thought I could run.

Until I did it.

I never thought I could lose over 50 pounds.

Until I did it.

I never thought I could  write, deliver babies, raise kids, own my own home, balance a hectic life and be married for over 22 years.

Until I looked up and it turns out I can.

When I was in my twenties I had a good friend, let’s call her Val…(that’s not her real name)

Val and I worked together, had fun together, had our hair piled high and sprayed like everyone else at the time, after all it was the 80’s, we partied hard, we had fun. When I was with Val, we were the limit, we laughed harder than anyone I knew and had more fun and treated every Friday and Saturday like it was the last one we would ever have. I enjoyed myself, I felt pretty special to have a friend like Val.

Then one day, she uttered these words and for some reason I let them stick with me for years and determine how I felt about myself and how I thought the world felt about me…

During one of our weekend festivals of fun, she looked around the room and then at me and said in her best Debbie Downer voice, “Well Margie, let’s face it, we’re not the prettiest gals in the world. hahahaa…”

I felt like someone had slapped me in the face. I laughed of course but inside I couldn’t help but wonder why she had said such an odd thing. Sure, I knew that I wasn’t a beauty queen, but I had moved past that, I was into my twenties and I didn’t need approval or even to be compared to those “other women” out there. And yet here Iwas right in the middle of feeling bad about how I looked in comparison to someone else, or someone else’s idea of what attractive was instead of believing in my own version.

My own visualization of what I could, should, would…be was lost. Buried under those stupid words by Val.  

I carried that with me for years. I would meet new people and those words rang out in my ears EVERY time.
How stupid.

I don’t think that way anymore. Thank goodness, but I remember how that felt. How that felt to put myself down before I even tried. Before I even ventured out of the gate.  What a pity I put so much emphasis on someone elses opinion of- me.

It’s true, those words she said. “I’m not the prettiest gal in the world,” by any means.

But I am pretty funny. I’m pretty honest, a  pretty good parent and I’m pretty good at self improvements. So I would consider the trade for pretty on the outside for self esteem on the inside any day of the week.

Val knew not what she said. So I forgive her. She was young and thought it was funny to belittle herself and her clone. Somehow it made being single sting a bit less I guess by making someone else feel as bad as you do. But believe in yourself. Don’t let someone tell you what you are or what you aren’t.

Be your own support system, say positive things to yourself. Make yourself believe you are capable of anything.

I decided this week I want to learn to play the guitar.

I don’t even own one.

But I will find a way to make it happen. I am either good at it, or not. But I won’t know…

.. until I do it.


My four-slice backslide to my backside


The devil made me do it.

Actually I have no idea how it ended up inside me, but I had four slices of meat trio pizza yesterday along with a salad that wouldn’t fit in a mailbox.

I think I waited too long to eat. I had a mini lunch snack and then took the kids on a car adventure two cities away for craft supplies and fought traffic in 94 degree heat for over and hour to make it back home. Rushing to find something for dinner that wouldn’t break the bank to feed 5 people, I stopped by a quick pizza shop and took home 2 Meat Trio large pizzas.

The smell that filled the cabin of my small economy Mama Taxi was unreal. Heavenly is more like it. Piping hot and just like they said, Hot and ready! Since my son Ben was already running late to his library Teen advisory Board meeting, I tossed him a napkin and told him to eat on the way home to drop off his sister and before we picked up his best friend to go along.

Just watching him woof down that pizza made me hungry.

By the time we got home that pepperoni aroma had already set up camp in my brain. I could not think of anything else. “Just a half slice” I muttered to myself as I tore open the cardboard box and retrieved a whole piece. “Just one piece then.”

I made a salad in hopes to quell that pizza monster that was now growing hair on it’s back and gaining strength in my Marinara‘d belly.  I ate the salad and then I was still hungry. “DINNER!” I yelled to anyone in earshot and then realized except for my wee one Lydia who had already eaten, I was the only one in the house.

How could they leave me alone with this? This gateway drug to rising crust Nirvana?

So I had one more piece. Then two more. With a total of 4 slices in my gut I felt an overwhelming satisfaction that I had not had in a long time…satisfaction that was followed by a really bad stomach ache, guilt and a sincere wish that I had not had any at all or at the very most- one slice. (which according to my nutrient list was a whopping 380 calories per!)

So I tried to stop the guilt. Because for me, that guilty monkey on my back, makes me hungry. Sends me for saltines and makes me want to eat my remorse away. It never works but I used to do it anyway…so I stopped it in its tracks and drank a ton of water and made a promise to let it go.

I just set it free. I said, “You know, it’s pizza. Not heroin. I just had more than I should. It was delicious. I loved it and tomorrow I will pay for it on the asphalt.”

And I did.

Did I ever!  I put myself through the paces as I hit the road at 9:15 this morning in the 90 degree heat. I would not allow myself to stop until I did just over 2 miles which according to my pedometer is about 4,200 steps. Then I crawled indoors and worked out on the basketball court shooting baskets and running the court for another 2250 steps. So I managed just over 3 miles of continuous, sweaty, cardio pounding, fat melting exercise and I felt much better about my pizza meal.

Sure, it slowed me down some. I still felt the weight of that sticky dough in my belly, but I felt better once I had burned some of it up from my head to my toes.

So I came in from my workout, freshly showered and relieved. Then had a sensible giant salad and swore I would never let myself get that hungry again. Yesterday I went way too long without nutrition of some sort. I even denied myself water on my journey which really sent me into a spin. Since I usually have 10 glasses a day if I am hanging around the house.

So I took a side step and it was delicious.
Not something I want to do again anytime soon, but when I do, I will survive.

It’s all part of the journey, getting lost now and then.