Life, happiness, weight loss. It’s a marathon, not a sprint; something that I’ve struggled over the years to remind myself of, especially when I haven’t lost weight after a week or two of diet and exercise. It’s hard work, it’s determination, and it’s a result of completely changing your mindset when it comes to healthy choices. But the hardest part of that changed mindset is the continued positivity. How do you remain positive when you’re tired, when you haven’t seen the results as quickly as you’d hoped, and when you’ve fallen off the healthy train and need to jump back aboard those speeding cars?
All of these are things that I struggle with on an ongoing basis – like I’m talking several times a day. I struggle to be positive about myself and to keep myself from spiralling into a self loathe. I’m not going to pretend that I have any answers; I can’t tell you how to prevent this. But it’s days like this that I put on my favourite comfy outfit, blast the Justin Bieber and dance my heart out around the house. I think about everything else in my life that I love and take a few moments to forget about how much more work I have to do to be comfortable in my own skin. I turn off all Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and even Pinterest notifications that are going to buzz me back to the here and now and catch me scrolling through pictures of more and more bikini body babes and quick fix articles telling me how to fix a body that is already healthy, but just carrying a few extra pounds. And last but not least, I stare at my body in the mirror and tell myself I’m beautiful, enough times so that when Corey comes home and says “Hi Beautiful” I actually believe it for once.
Sometimes I think I’m so stressed I could be sick. I get so worked up with the comings and goings of my life that I feel like I hold a world of worry on my shoulders. But what am I stressed about? I know I constantly worry that I’ll never amount to enough, be enough for anyone, be enough for myself. But I’m young, healthy, have a great job, and live in a great city. There are people who love me and people who I love. So I’ll continue to dance, gossip with the girls in spin class, and blast the JBiebs and sing at the top of my lungs.
How do a few words from your own head through your fingertips become such successful therapy? I feel better now. Thanks.