I’m waving my white flag…I’m tired, I’m ashamed and I surrender.

Let me preface this post but stating clearly that I do not think I’m “fat”.  This isn’t about skinny or fat.  It’s about not liking what you see when you look in the mirror no matter what size you are.  It’s about society’s unrealistic idea of what constitutes beauty compared to the reality of beauty.  It’s about focusing so hard on your imperfections, you lose sight of who you are.   It’s about a mind shift from dieting to being healthy…no matter what your shape or size may be.  It’s about acceptance and self-love.

I’ve generally been ok with my body over the years.  I’ve never been a big exerciser, never had a six-pack, always had my problem areas that I did my best to hide, but was pretty confident in my skin.  With that being said, I was always trying to lose ten pounds…always.  That’s changed in the past couple of years.  I was doing the same things I was always doing, but my body was changing rapidly and keeping up with my “average” body was becoming harder and harder.  I was doing more with less results and I became my worst critic.  With each pound I gained, I lost twice that in self-esteem and self-respect.

That’s when I knew the madness had to stop.

I was tired of the disgust I felt when I looked in the mirror.  I was tired of the contempt I felt for myself that I didn’t make the gym a priority in my life.  I was tired of shying away from friends’ invitations that might have anything to do with water or a bathing suit.  I was tired of comparing myself to people who were most likely comparing themselves to someone else.  I was tired of beating myself up that I didn’t look the way I did at 20 or 30 or even 40.

And I was ashamed of myself.  I was ashamed that my daughter had seen me crying in a dressing room because nothing fit.  I was ashamed that I sometimes looked for people who were heavier than me and felt relieved that I wasn’t the only one.  I was ashamed that the value of my day could be based on the number on the scale.  I was ashamed that I would stare at magazines and feel inferior and lazy.  I was ashamed I was buying in to this crap because I know better!

So, I’m surrendering.  I’m escaping society’s vision of what a perfect body should look like.  I am no longer your prisoner.  I’m giving up this fight with my body.  I’m throwing away the scale.  I’m done talking about how I need to lose 10 lbs (or 5 or 15 or 20…whatever it is in a given month or year).  I’m finished explaining away my cellulite or muffin top or saddle bags.   And most importantly, I will never again be the crappy role model I’ve been to my daughter.

Surrendering to this unrealistic standard frees me up to do what’s really important. I’m free to learn to be a healthy eater because my body deserves it.  I’m free to be active and keep moving because I want to play with my grandkids one day.  I’m free to lift weights so I don’t get the osteoporosis so prevalent in my family.  I’m free to teach my daughter AND son that bodies come in all different sizes and shapes and they are all beautiful and utterly amazing.  I’m free to remind myself that my worth and value are so much more than a number or a size.  I’m free to build other women up no matter their size or shape rather than tearing them down out of jealousy or insecurity.  I’m free to accept my body at whatever size I might be, knowing that changes with my outside self have no bearing on my inside self.  I’m free to change my goal from losing weight to adding years to my life.

I remember doing a body image group one year with some middle school girls.  They were all beautiful girls, but in that awkward stage, going through the transition from caterpillar to butterfly.  And like the rest of the world, they were obsessed with their physical appearance.  I asked each of them to write down the things they loved most about their best friend.

She is always there when I need her.

She makes me laugh.

We have so much fun together.

She keeps my secrets.

She’s a great listener.

After we read them I looked at them and reminded them that not one of them loved their best friend because of their physical appearance.  Not one of them said…

She has small thighs.

She has a flat stomach.

She has the perfect size chest.

She has thick, long hair.

She has a round butt.

We love people because of how they make us feel, not what they look like.  This unrealistic and damaging message that we have to look like a Victoria’s Secret model to be considered beautiful is hurting our society in so many ways.  Most women want it to stop, but we are our worst enemies.  We snicker when someone has gained weight.  We call someone “obsessed” who loves to work out.  We judge each other for being “too fat” and then when we lose weight, we are immediately judged for being “too skinny”.  We assume someone overweight is lazy and someone who is naturally skinny has an eating disorder.  And what’s even sadder, is WE have the power to stop this instead of perpetuating it!

And I know I’m not alone.  I hear beautiful, smart, talented women demean themselves because of some aspect of their appearance.  The fact they are talented, creative, articulate, funny, compassionate, and brilliant are all secondary to whether they look good in their jeans.  It’s heartbreaking.

So, instead of counting calories, I’m counting sunsets from my porch.  Instead of tracking my meals, I’m tracking the memories I’m making with my friends and family.  Instead of stepping on the scale, I’m stepping up for causes I believe in.  Instead of saying no to the occasional milkshake, I am saying no to anything that doesn’t feed my soul.  Instead of focusing on losing the weight, I am focusing on losing the guilt.  Instead of self-loathing, there will be self-love.  Instead of rejection, there will be acceptance.

And I hope you hold me accountable when I slip!  Let’s remind each other what’s really important and the true qualities that make someone “beautiful”.  Let’s support and lift each other up.  Let’s stop judging, not only others, but more importantly ourselves.  Let’s stop the competition because I can promise you, no one is winning, especially our daughters.

Taryn Brumfitt (BodyImageMovement.com) summed up my feelings best.

Women are always being told to change or be different—lose weight, fight aging, smooth your skin, get rid of cellulite, I mean really, women are such amazing and dynamic creatures can we please change the conversation from this bullsh*t to something with a little more substance?

Yes, please.

I’m not much of a New Year’s resolution girl…I’m more of a birthday resolution girl.  Maybe it’s because I’m a February baby so it’s not too far from the new year and it also gives all the New Year’s resolution people time to either get in a routine or bail.  This birthday was no different.  At 45, I knew I had to get serious.  I set my intentions.  This year was going to be all about taking care of me…body, mind, and soul…ALL of me.

My first step was to do what we all do…I joined a gym.  Not just any gym, but the gym I’ve been a member of probably at least 20 prior times.  This time I decided to up the ante.  Instead of joining for one month to decide if it was going to be a waste of money, I joined for six months AND I signed the whole family up.  Maybe that would help me stay motivated.  And off I went.  My first class was a weight lifting class.  I purposely went VERY light on the weight, knowing if I didn’t, I would feel like a truck ran over me the next morning since it had been over a year since I had lifted weights.  I’ve done this class many times so I knew what to expect, but I didn’t expect how much my body would fight it.  It was painful as I did it but I made it through the class.

The next morning I did not feel like a truck ran over me, I felt like TWO trucks ran over me and then parked!  I seriously couldn’t move.  If you’ve ever been really sore after working out you know what I’m talking about it.  There would be no squatting to pee, I could only use the handicap bathroom at work and that was only if my shaking arms didn’t give out trying to hold me up on the handicap rails.  I went the long way everywhere to avoid all stairs and after trying to lift my arm to staple something on a bulletin board for about 5 minutes, I just gave up.  I knew it was bad when I was waiting in line behind a 90 year old man and he dropped a dime.  We both looked at each other and I thought, “Oh crap.”  We both went for the dime (at the same pace I might add) and he beat me to it.  I couldn’t get back up so he was kind enough to help me!  The only place I could find any relief was in a hot bathtub.  I was miserable.

That evening I went to sit down on the couch with my husband.  After watching me for a quite some time try to sit without bending at all, he said to me, “You know you have to go back.”  I ignored him.  “You have to work through the pain.  Once you work through the pain it won’t hurt any more or it will at least be bearable.”  He was right (as usual)…and not just about the gym.

We tend to want to avoid painful situations and uncomfortable feelings.  If we ignore it long enough, it will go away.  But will it? 

We certainly don’t want to revisit experiences that have hurt us, but until we do, we are never free of them and nothing changes.  We can push them way down and pretend they don’t exist, but they will continue to eat away at us in all kinds of unhealthy ways. 

Everyone I know is dealing with some kind of pain.  There are times we never acknowledge our pain because we minimize it.  Yes, we are hurting, but we know so many people who have it “worse than us” so we don’t feel entitled to feel our pain.  And then we have other judging our pain, comparing their pain to ours, thereby making our pain seem trivial.  I once read somewhere that the pain of the death of a loved one, the pain of the end of a relationship, and the pain of a child losing a teddy bear are no different. Pain is pain and no one should put limits on it or qualify it.

And then there are times it’s, well, just too painful.  We just don’t feel like we can face it.  So we look for answers in all the wrong places and the pain just multiplies.  It’s not until we truly work through our pain in a healthy and productive way that we can be free of it.  Being free does not mean we forget or we never feel sad, it just means we don’t let the pain control us anymore…it becomes bearable.

For those wondering, I did go back to the gym and my soreness is now the “good kind” of pain.  I’ve been very consistent with this class because I know if I don’t continue to go, I’ll be right back where I started…in pain.  And who wants to be there?!?

Today’s blog post is about “female stuff”.  I thought about warning men they may want to skip this one, but after doing my research I think this topic is important for them too…maybe even more so.  Women have to go through a lot of hard stuff.  Fortunately though, I have always been blessed with amazing friends who I have been able to wade through the gory details of womanhood with. 

I remember the day I got my period.  I was in 8th grade and feeling completely left out because I was one of the last of my friends to get it.  My best friend and I had been sent out in the hall by our PE teacher for being a little too social and right there in the hall it happened.  I knew exactly what to do because my friends and I had talked incessantly about every detail regarding this momentous day in our life.  I was ready.

Then came trying to get pregnant, being pregnant, and labor and delivery.  Again, it’s all we talked about.  I could always find someone experiencing what I was going through or a story of what to prepare for and this camaraderie got me through.  I was ready.

Next came female problems of another sort.  Ablations, hysterectomies, D&Cs, birth control…anything to get that mess down there fixed up and healthy.  Obviously not everyone could relate, but the ones that could shared their experiences and put me at ease.  I knew what to expect.  Again, I was ready.

Now the start of a new phase and for the first time, I’m not ready.  Finally a topic my friends aren’t talking about and I’m not sure why…perimenopause and menopause.  Of course we talk about the hot flashes, the insomnia, and the weight gain.  Some of us even talk about the mood swings.  And if we are lucky enough, we have someone to talk to about the depression, loss of libido, and affect on our marriage and family.  But mostly there is silence.  I’m wondering if it’s because everyone feels as lost as I do.  There was no question I had my period or I was pregnant or that I needed a hysterectomy but now I’m questioning this…am I in perimenopause or am I just crazy?

First, a brief health lesson.  I started researching this topic for my own sanity and came upon my life line.  A blog called The Perimenopause Blog (yes, people are actually blogging about this!)  In her post titled Symptoms of Perimenopause  Symptoms of Menopause (http://www.theperimenopauseblog.com/symptoms-of-perimenopause-symptoms-of-menopause/) Magnolia Miller explains it this way.

Perimenopause is a transitional period a woman goes through where her estrogen and progesterone levels are fluctuating until she becomes fully menopausal.  During perimenopause, her ovaries will produce less and less progesterone and estrogen until she no longer has a menstrual cycle.  A woman is said to be menopausal once she has gone twelve consecutive months without a menstrual cycle. Once a woman reaches actual menopause (the average is four years but it can take up to ten!!), her ovaries are no longer producing enough progesterone and estrogen to support monthly menstrual cycles. While most women find menopause to be a wonderful, peaceful time of life, the low estrogen levels common in menopause can put many women at a higher risk for a number of health issues such as osteoporosis, bone and joint degeneration, and chronic depression.

But there’s a lot more going on.  The author of the blog says she started blogging about this because the anxiety and emotional turmoil she was experiencing made her truly believe she might be going crazy.  She goes on to say, “It’s difficult to explain to others who have not been through it, what perimenopause feels like.  It’s especially difficult to explain to our husbands who can’t begin to understand or even remotely connect to the female experience. Not only is this frustrating but it can add to the feelings of isolation and vulnerability.”

It seems from my research, the medical field agrees there are about 35 symptoms you might experience during perimenopause.  Obviously you will not experience all of these things (thank goodness!) and some of you many never experience any of them.  Personally, I was able to identify at least 15 symptoms on this list I am experiencing or have experienced at some point.  No wonder I feel crazy!

35 Symptoms of Perimenopause

• Hot flashes, flushes, night sweats and/or cold flashes, clammy feeling
• Irregular heart beat
• Irritability
• Mood swings, sudden tears
• Trouble sleeping through the night (with or without night sweats)
• Irregular periods; shorter, lighter periods; heavier periods, flooding; phantom periods, shorter cycles, longer cycles
• Loss of libido
• Dry vagina
• Crashing fatigue
• Anxiety, feeling ill at ease
• Feelings of dread, apprehension, doom
• Difficulty concentrating, disorientation, mental confusion
• Disturbing memory lapses
• Incontinence, especially upon sneezing, laughing; urge incontinence
• Itchy, crawly skin
• Aching, sore joints, muscles and tendons
• Increased tension in muscles
• Breast tenderness
• Headache change: increase or decrease
• Gastrointestinal distress, indigestion, flatulence, gas pain, nausea
• Sudden bouts of bloat
• Depression
• Exacerbation of existing conditions
• Increase in allergies
• Weight gain
• Hair loss or thinning, head, pubic, or whole body; increase in facial hair
• Dizziness, vertigo, light-headedness, episodes of loss of balance
• Changes in body odor
• Electric shock sensation under the skin and in the head
• Tingling in the extremities
• Gum problems, increased bleeding
• Burning tongue, burning roof of mouth, bad taste in mouth, change in breath odor
• Osteoporosis (after several years)
• Changes in fingernails: softer, crack or break easier
• Tinnitus: ringing in ears, bells, ‘whooshing,’ buzzing etc.

But what I am finding so fascinating in my research is the profound psychological and emotional changes that go hand in hand with the physical changes during this time.  As I googled menopause, article after article came up about the effects of menopause on a marriage.  Did you know that over 60 percent of divorces are initiated by women in their 40s, 50s or 60s — the menopause years — according to a recent survey conducted by AARP Magazine.  Other articles put that number as high as 70%.

Why you ask?  Obviously it could be many, many reasons unrelated to menopause, but I was interested in learning more about the correlation between menopause and marriage.  What I found out is summed up best by Lori Phillips, BellaOnline Marriage Editor, in an article called Menopause and Marriage (http://www.bellaonline.com/articles/art1379.asp).  She explains it this way.

Studies show that early in life when women’s estrogen levels are high, they feel a sense of maternal nurturing. To ensure the survival of the family, they become the peace-makers and caretakers. As menopause ensues, estrogen levels drop while testosterone levels rise. A woman suddenly feels less inclined to be the pleaser. The increase of testosterone makes her more prone to thinking about her own needs. A lot of women suddenly think, “I’ve put everyone first in my life. There are things about him and our marriage that I don’t want to put up with anymore.”  It leads many women to re-think their lives and their newfound sense of self compels them to break away from old priorities—child-rearing and husband-caretaking--and embark on new paths that allow them to pursue personal goals.

I am in no way saying that menopause causes divorce.  A struggling marriage was probably struggling way before menopause and a strong marriage will survive it just fine.  But it does shed some light as to why some women find themselves disconnected at this time in their life.  I am not divorced or planning to get divorced but I have certainly felt this disconnect myself.

It also helps to know I’m not alone in everything I’ve been feeling lately…that I’m really not crazy.  In fact, I’m more normal than I ever knew.  I’ve been to several doctors looking for answers to what’s wrong with me and I’m not alone there either.  I read comment after comment of women describing going from doctor to doctor looking for answers.  Some quit their jobs because the symptoms were so severe, while others thought they were dying.  And in the end, they were all found to be “healthy” and “just perimenopausal”.  All said the emotional changes are far worse than the physical changes as there seems to be more help and acknowledgement of the physical stuff, but they felt very alone in this new emotional turmoil they feel trapped in. 

I can promise you it’s not “just perimenopausal” when you are going through it but there is help!  Treatment varies from lifestyle changes to hormone replacement therapy.  Go see your doctor!  Take this post if you need to!  Highlight your symptoms!  Advocate for yourself!  Don’t settle for …”you are fine.”  And let’s start talking about this!  Nothing is as scary when you realize you’re not alone.

Imagine this...

Your husband has a disease.  It not only affects his life, but the lives of everyone in your family.  Your friends and family provide you with an abundance of support.  They fix dinner for you, they offer to take him to doctor appointments to give you a break, they have a fundraiser to help pay for medical expenses your insurance won’t cover, and they call to ask how he is…how you are.  You feel loved.  You don’t feel so alone.

Or imagine this...

Your daughter has been victim to a terrible trauma.  The side effects from this trauma have been life altering for her, as well as everyone in your family.  Your friends and family show up with food.  They take you out to talk and hear how things are going. 
They offer support to your daughter as well, understanding it takes a village.  They spread the word your family needs support and your community rises to the call. 
You feel relief.  You don’t feel so alone.

Most of us can imagine this because we have been on the giving or receiving end of a loved one suffering from cancer, or a heart attack, or a car accident.

Let’s take it a step further though.  Your local high school has “green night” at the basketball game. They are selling green t-shirts to support people struggling like your husband and daughter.  
 
They are having…MENTAL ILLNESS AWARENESS NIGHT.  

At half time they recognize your husband for living with bi-polar disorder and depression.  They recognize your daughter for overcoming her substance abuse and
finding the right medicine and treatment for PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) after returning from Iraq.  They recognize the care givers of those who are mentally ill and promise more research and better treatment with the money they raise.  Again, you feel your community’s support.  You don’t feel so alone.

Can you imagine the last scenario?  Probably not. We only talk about mental illness when it’s to place blame.  When are we going to start recognizing mental illness as the crippling disease it is? When are we going to start supporting our brothers and sisters suffering from depression the same way we support those suffering from cancer? 
When is raising money for the research and treatment of schizophrenia going to be as important as the research and treatment for heart disease?  When will feel comfortable discussing our substance abuse the way we discuss our diabetes?  Don’t tell me it’s because people die from physical illness but not from mental illness.   Read the paper.  Watch the news.  We are a country suffering from an epidemic of mental illness that is
going to ruin this country.   People are dying every day from the affects of mental illness and the funding just keeps decreasing as the need is increasing at lightning
speed.

How many more are going to be killed?  

Miriam Carey, who drove through a White House barrier and engaged Capital police in a
high speed chase with her one-year old in the car, was suffering from postpartum
depression and psychosis.  She is just one of a string of mentally ill people who have been killed or killed others in the recent past.  These include Aaron Alexis who reportedly believed he was being controlled by electromagnetic waves when he killed 12 people at Washington Navy Yard in Washington, D.C., Adam Lanza who killed 26
people at the Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut and James
Holmes who killed 12 people at the premier of a Batman movie in Aurora, Colorado. In my own hometown, Seung-Hui Cho, who killed 32 people and injured 17 more in the Virginia Tech massacre, was suffering from a severe anxiety disorder and major depressive disorder. And just this week in my home state, Virginia Senator Creigh Deeds was stabbed multiple times by his alleged mentally ill son who has been turned away from a psychiatric hospital the day before due to lack of beds.

There is a stigma that comes along with mental illness that prevents people from
getting help and like any other kind of illness, untreated mental illness only gets worse, not better.  According to the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH), an estimated one in four adults suffers from a diagnosable mental disorder in a given year. I think about all those Americans suffering while both society and the health care industry do very little to alleviate their suffering.  Health care companies provide incentives to lose weight or stop smoking, but most offer nothing when it comes to mental illness.

Victoria Brownworth summed it up best on a blog post written for The Huffington Post dated October 7, 2013. The article called Crazy Every Day: America's Mental Illness Epidemic which describes living with her mentally ill mother concludes this way…

“Nearly 60 million Americans suffer right now from some form of mental illness, be it psychosis like Carey or schizophrenia, depression, anxiety, bi-polar disorder, an eating disorder. Many of those people are compliantly taking medications and others are wandering lost in America, unmedicated, hearing voices, thinking paranoid delusional
thoughts and literally going out of their minds.

How many families have to be devastated by the impact of this disease before we make mental illness a priority in this country? One in four is sick. If it were influenza, it would be an epidemic. Let's start acting like mental illness is illness first, mental
second. It's a public health crisis in America. And until we address it, there will be more Miriam Careys, more Aaron Alexises, more mothers like mine and so much untreated suffering, we might all go crazy from the pain.”

I don't want to go crazy from the pain.  How about you?

I have not felt like myself for the past year.  There are some mornings my body feels like a truck ran over me during the night.  I’m always tired…even after 10 hours of sleep. My pants just keep getting tighter and tighter even though I’ve changed nothing with my diet and exercise.  For a year, I’ve been chalking it up to stress. This past year has been emotionally trying for me on several fronts, the main one being my job.  This past school year was definitely the toughest one for me yet.  So I pushed through the year thinking I would feel better this summer.  I haven’t, so I finally went to the doctor.  My doctor was a bit alarmed when she saw me because I bet I’ve only been there once or twice in the past 10 years, so she took my concerns seriously.  We talked fibromyalgia.  We tested my thyroid.  She did extensive blood work.  We researched blood diseases because of all of my bruising.

I finally got my diagnosis…I’m getting old.

Seriously?!  The doctor informed me that it’s scientifically proven that women in their 40’s are always tired, hot flashes begin, and their metabolism starts to plummet. Great, I thought, let’s just add that to periods, cellulite, waxing every hair off our body, and childbirth and let’s all get in line to be a woman!  She continued by telling me I could do exactly what I’m doing right now and I would gain around 5 lbs each year.  Or I could cut out carbs and increase the intensity of my workouts to 5-6 times a week and hope to maintain through the next decade. At this point I realized she seriously was not going to give me a pill to fix this.  I complained it wasn’t fair.  Men can give up soft drinks and lose 10 lbs and women are existing on quinoa (and if you know what that is,
you know what I’m talking about!) and jump on the scale to see they’ve gained a pound!  She agreed, saying it was the male testosterone that made it easier for some men and she would happily give me some but I would probably grow a full beard.  Hmmm…skinny with a full beard or heavier with a smooth face?  I do have a pretty good razor at home…

Seriously though, I knew in that moment she was right and something had to change for me.  I’m a woman, so I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t about the number on the scale and what I look like, but for the first time it was about more than that.  It was about feeling better. 
 
I was sick and tired of being sick and tired.

If you know me at all, you know diet and exercise are not my strong points.  On most days the closest I get to a well-balanced meal is a plate of cheese fries and a glass of wine (bacon=protein, cheese=dairy, potatoes=vegetables and wine=fruit…looks good
to me!)  I recently filed a police report to try and find out who stole my endorphins because mine are missing.  Exercising for me is about as fun as childbirth.  That’s when I called Sharon from Eat Well Play More to be my health coach…to support me on this quest to be healthy and feel better.  To change my mindset from “the only thing that matters is the number on the scale” to “the only thing that matters is how I feel”. To empower me to take care of myself as well as I take care of others and to be the best me I can possibly be, no matter what the scale says.  She has the patience of a saint because my steps have been baby steps but at least I’m moving forward.  She would be really proud of me sitting here drinking my spinach while I write this and even knowing how to spell quinoa!

I have purposely stayed away from the topic of weight on this blog because it’s a sensitive one. This is not about weight though, this is about health.  I want to be alive to play with my grandchildren.  I want to be an example to my own children that health is important and what you put in your body matters.  I don’t just want to be alive, I want to be healthy enough to really live.  I know I am more than a number.  I know the value I bring to the world is so much more than a bikini ready body.  I know it’s the size of my heart, not the size of my butt that makes me beautiful. I’m outraged by the unrealistic expectations placed on women to look a certain way and I’m saddened by all my beautiful friends who do not see their own beauty because they are not a size 2. And I’m embarrassed that I know exactly how they feel, because I feel it too.

I have a very long road ahead of me, but hopefully some of the changes I’m making will give me many extra years to figure it all out!  Any motivation and positive thoughts you can send my way would be greatly appreciated and if you find my endorphins, I really need them back!