Sunday...
Religion is a fundamental part of Haitian culture.  We awoke early Sunday morning, had breakfast, and headed to church. The communities put on their best clothes and pack the pews.  Children (and even babies!) are so well behaved and quiet.  Church in Haiti can last up to three hours as it is a primary social infrastructure for the community. Religion shapes the fabric of everyday life and from this faith comes hope, a sense of purpose, and resilience. Their faith gives them strength.

​Sunday was "free day" so after church we changed clothes and headed to Cite Solei to set up our medical clinic for the week.  Transportation in Haiti is through tap taps, America's version of a taxi. Tap tap literally means "quick quick" and are privately owned and ornately decorated.  Most tap taps are very old and an extremely bumpy ride.  In fact, The US State Department warns travelers not to use tap taps "because they are often overloaded, mechanically unsound, and driven unsafely."  I can attest to this!  Haitian interpreters were with us at all times to help us navigate, negotiate, and also as a security measure.  From the clinic, we drove to Port-au-Prince to The National Museum of Haiti.  It was very interesting learning the history of Haiti. So much I didn't know!  Including that Christopher Columbus founded Haiti in 1492 and the museum houses the original anchor from the Santa Maria which sank after running aground in Haiti.  After our guided tour, we stayed in Port-au-Prince to have lunch at the United Nations.  The restaurant was very Americanized and our table was filled with burgers, fries and Prestige, the local Haitian beer.

After a late lunch we headed to Croix des Bouquets, a local artisan colony.  It was hut after hut of homemade (mostly metal) artwork made by the locals.  The artwork was beautiful and each of us bought pieces to take home for ourselves, family and friends. As beautiful as the artwork was, the trip to the colony enabled us a further glimpse into the poverty and desperation of the Haitian people to make a living.  We were encouraged to always stay together (and with our interpreters) and my fear of theft was heightened as I thought about how much just the cash in my wallet could afford someone in their country.

Our Sunday was extremely busy and hot and full of all kinds of experiences.  Our first taste of Haiti.  We headed home, showered, ate dinner, congregated as a group for a devotion and hit the sack pretty early.  Tomorrow we were about to get our first glimpse into the PEOPLE of Haiti...and what a strong group of people they are!

​The months leading up to our trip were filled with the logistics expected for a trip of this nature.  Packing was unusual because Haiti (or at least the site that housed us) has a strict dress code.  Shorts or skirts must come to your knees and you must cover your shoulders (no tank tops).  You also must wear closed toe shoes.  We also knew that working in the school required wearing a skirt.  Knowing the weather would be in the 80’s, Catie and I hit the clearance racks at the end of the summer and Goodwill to buy what we needed, with a plan to leave all of our clothes there as a donation when we left.
 
A strong mosquito spray with DEET was essential.  I had trouble finding it here this time of year so we ended up ordering it through Amazon.  Thank goodness we did, because as we were on our way to Haiti, we received word that the Zika virus was rampant in Haiti.  Zika virus is a mosquito-borne ailment similar to dengue fever.  Symptoms, which usually are relatively mild, can include fever, rash, conjunctivitis and headache. In more serious cases, they can include muscle pain, swelling and an itchy rash.  The virus is really only dangerous for pregnant women because it can lead to birth defects and miscarriage, but would definitely be uncomfortable and miserable to have a virus of this nature outside the comforts of home.  Unfortunately our two team members who had come a week earlier, Mike and Austin, came down with a virus the first week there that sent them from our boarding house to a hotel to recover.  They were never tested but it was widely assumed they had the Zika virus.  Fortunately they recovered completely and were able to spend the next week with us feeling much better.  We stayed coated in mosquito spray all week.  Getting out of the shower fresh and clean only lasted a few minutes as you immediately coated yourself with the oily spray that didn’t have the most fragrant aroma either!  Zika is just now entering the United States and you are probably hearing about it on the news this week.
 
We also had to make an appointment at the Health Department to be sure we were up to date with our vaccines.  To travel to Haiti it’s recommended you have the Hepatitis A and B vaccine and Tdap.  We were also prescribed medicine for Typhoid and Malaria and got our flu shots.
 
During most of this preparation, my husband was very quiet.  He was not really thrilled about us going, especially Catie.  He was proud of us, but nervous and worried.  Amy assured him it was safe but he gave us each a can of mace and made Catie promise to carry it with her at all times.  We teased him but I also took his concerns seriously.  I did a bit of research on the violence in Haiti and it appeared to be relatively safe compared to other countries with similar conditions.  In fact, while crime can certainly be an issue, Haiti might actually be one of the safer countries in the Caribbean. Its murder rate pales in comparison to that of some of the Caribbean’s top destinations – half that of the Dominican Republic and barely a quarter of Jamaica’s, according to the UNODC’s 2013 Global Study on Homicide. Port-au-Prince, the heart of recent political demonstrations and most tourists’ main point of entry into Haiti, dominates the crime statistics but foreigners are rarely targeted: figures are skewed heavily to inter-gang violence primarily in neighborhoods that tourists are unlikely to visit such as Carrefour, Cite Soleil, Martissant and Bel Air.  With that being said, I knew our clinic was in Cite Soleil and we would NOT be touring Cite Soleil this year (as we have in the past) due to safety concerns with two feuding neighborhoods within Cite Soleil.  I planned to be smart, but not let fear ruin the experience.  My biggest fear was theft, so we wore no jewelry (except a cheap pair of stud earrings), took only our passports, driver’s license, cash and one credit card.  I kept these items on me at all times.  Our group did not encounter any problems with theft, but the other mission group there from South Carolina was driving in a taptap (Haiti’s version of a taxi…more on that later) and someone reached in and pulled a necklace off a woman’s neck while they were stopped.  Bottom line is no matter how many years you have safely been to Haiti, you can never get too comfortable.
 
In preparation for our work there, we also participated in a “pill packing” party hosted by Blacksburg Presbyterian Church.  We spent several hours, with the help of many volunteers, packing the medication and supplies to stock our clinic and take to the school in 22 large suitcases.  We also sorted medicine such as vitamins and antibiotics from the large containers to smaller quantities in order to save time in the pharmacy once we arrived.  Because all of our checked luggage (two suitcases each) were filled with medication and supplies, we were only able to bring one carry on with our personal items and a backpack.

​Catie and I were both nervous leading up to the trip.  I was more worried about things like safety, our living arrangements, and food.  Catie was worried about getting homesick and being so far from home.  Fortunately none of our concerns were founded!  On the day before we left I sent Catie the following text…
​
“We are going to Haiti!!!  WTH?!?!”
and she replied immediately,
“Hahahaha I know mom oh my gosh!!!” 

And that pretty much summed it up!  On Saturday morning we woke up early and met our fellow team members to caravan to Charlotte.  (Thank you Janet Sims for seeing us off…so sweet!)  We drove to Charlotte and caught a flight to Atlanta.  We had a layover in Atlanta so Catie and I decided to honor our last taste of American food with a huge bacon cheeseburger and fries!  From Atlanta we flew to Port au Prince arriving around 7:00 pm. 

​As we began our landing, I asked Catie, “Are you ready?”  She looked at me and said “Ready or not, here we come!”  And boy was she right…here is where our adventure really begins!

Next Blog Post:  We Arrive and a Sunday in Haiti

I’ve listened to my sister-in-law talk about her trips to Haiti for about 4 years now.  She would show me pictures, bring me back gifts, and become very animated in trying to describe her experiences.  Honestly, I just never really “got it”.  I would, of course, listen politely and try to wrap my head around the things she would tell me, but it just seemed like a world away…and now after being there, I realize it is.

I wish I could say that a deep calling to make a difference in the world is what propelled me to make the decision to join her on her most recent trip, but it was not.  It was the mama bear in me.  Although I was extremely intrigued by the idea of going and I did want to make an impact on others, I would always tell myself “one of these days”.  One of these days came in the form of my daughter announcing that she needed a passport because she was going to Haiti with Aunt Amy.  Ummm, not without your mama!  And that was that.  The decision to go to Haiti for a week on a mission trip was made.  And I couldn’t be more grateful to Amy and Catie for pushing me outside my comfort zone and giving me the experience of a lifetime.

​Catie and I joined Amy’s medical team, who is sponsored through Blacksburg Presbyterian Church and coordinate their mission work through Haiti Outreach Ministries (HOM).  The work of Haiti Outreach Ministries (HOM) is done at three mission sites.  Each site is anchored with the sound foundation of a church whose congregants worship regularly. Each church campus supports a school, clean water program and medical care to help meet the needs of the people.  Mission trip opportunities include:  Construction, Education, Teacher Training and Religious Instruction, Medical, and Long Term Volunteer Opportunities.  As I said before, we went as a Medical Mission team with the idea Catie and I would spend a couple of days in the medical clinic and a couple of days in the elementary school.  I do not hesitate to say that we were not only blessed with this trip, but blessed to go with some of the most compassionate, kind, and fun people I have ever met.  Catie and I were privileged to share this adventure with 11 other amazing human beings.  My sister in law, Amy, who is an Assistant CNO at a hospital in our area and frankly, our hero.  Evelyn and Christy are very talented and empathetic Physicians.  Frank is a Psychiatrist with such strong faith and his beautiful new wife Jennifer is a Nurse Practitioner practicing in the mental health field.  Karen (our fearless and FUN leader!) is also a Nurse Practitioner working in Oncology and Marcia is an RN who treated every patient as if they were family.  Kerry is a conscientious, caring (and very popular!) Pharmacist and Mike is a General Surgeon with the kindest heart I've ever met.  Rounding out our group was Diron, a very genuine guy (and comedian in disguise!) who just happens to be an Information Technology Director that also works at a hospital, and Austin, Mike’s 23 year old sweet son who braved Haiti for 2 weeks with his dad for his first mission trip!

​Before I get ahead of myself, let me tell you a little about Haiti.  Haiti is the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. Haiti makes up the western one-third of the island of Hispaniola in the Caribbean. The eastern two-thirds of the island is the Dominican Republic.  Haiti is slightly smaller than the state of Maryland with close to 10 million residents (if you are wondering like I was, Maryland has a population of close to 6 million).  More than two thirds of the population is unemployed. Roughly 80 percent of Haitians are Roman Catholic, while fewer than one in five claims to be Protestant. Roughly 95 percent of Haitians – regardless of religious affiliation – hold at least some Voodoo beliefs or superstitions.
 
As described by Chelsea Evans on http://borgenproject.org/top-five-facts-about-poverty-in-haiti/, in 2010 Haiti was struck by what has been called the strongest earthquake since 1770. The 7.0 mW quake with aftershocks ranging from 4.2 to 5.9 affected at least 3 million people (over 220,000 killed) and left them in need of emergency aid. But in the last three years, the world at large has turned away from the struggle of the Haitian people to focus on newer problems. The fact remains, though, that aid is still needed. Here are the top 5 facts you should know about Haiti’s poverty.

• Even before the earthquake hit, 1.9 million people were in need of food assistance. Around 60 percent of the population lives on less than $1.00 a day. As a result, malnutrition and anemia run rampant. Haiti is the third hungriest country in the world.​
• Only 50 percent of the people have access to an improved water source, such as a hand pump or a well. This means that most of the population depends on lakes, streams and rivers for their water, regardless of the cleanliness. Even if some people can get to better water than others, a total of 80 percent do not have adequate sanitation available. So even if they run less risk of becoming ill from bad water, they are unable to clean themselves and are susceptible to disease and infection.
• Only fifty percent of children living in Haiti are able to go to school, while 30 percent of those only progress to the fifth grade. As a result, half of Haitians are illiterate. Without a proper education, the people are unable to break free of the cycle of poverty.
• Haiti is the poorest country in the world with a poverty rate of 77 percent, closely followed by Guinea with a 76.7 percent poverty rate. The World Bank estimates that the earthquake caused about $8 million in damage, or 120 percent of the GDP.
• There is a large population of orphaned children in Haiti, many of whom are living on the streets. There were an estimated 380,000 prior to the earthquake and untold thousands added to that number after it. There are also about 250,000 restaveks, or children working as servants and often treated as slaves.

 
The statistics are staggering and heartbreaking, but not as much as seeing it in person. And that's just what we are about to do...see Haiti through my eyes!  I hope you will follow along with me on this journey!

Next Blog Post:  Haiti...Prepare and Take Off!!

I really miss writing.  It’s something I truly enjoy.  I love going back and reading old blog posts and remembering certain experiences, people or memories.  I hope one day it will be a small glimpse into my life and my heart for my children and grandchildren.

With that being said, I haven’t written anything since May 2015.  I’m not sure why.  I’ve composed more posts in my head than I can count.  I’ve “written” about my first experience with empty nest and how scared I am about it being completely empty next year.  I’ve “written” about how friendships and marriage change as your kids graduate and leave home.  I’ve “written” about the changing dynamics once our parents begin to age and roles begin to reverse.  I’ve “written” about my journey towards gratitude this year and how it’s changed my life.  I’m not sure why I’m not putting anything down on paper anymore or why I’ve become a bit afraid of that “publish” button I used to push so freely.  When I started LimitlessLessons it was just for me.  A way for me to express my creative side, to record important moments for my kids to look back on when they are older, and to find support of others going through the same things I am.  I guess as time went on I realized I wasn’t ready to be as vulnerable as I thought I was.  I realized I had stopped writing for me and I had started writing for others…making sure I was politically correct in all my posts, worrying about stepping on toes or hurting someone’s feelings.  They say as you get older you worry less about what people think, but I was finding just the opposite.  I wondered what people were saying about my writing behind my back and began to feel anxious every time I published something.  It wasn’t as fun anymore.  It felt like work.

​Obviously I needed the break and I’ve been able to re-energize and re-prioritize.  I’m ready to write again.  I can’t promise to publish everything I write, but I’m ready to express myself again.  There is so much to talk about!  I’m starting today to document my trip to Haiti.  As I take some time to process and best articulate these experiences, I will be sharing some of my favorite posts from years past.  I hope revisiting these will remind me why I started this in the first place.  So thanks for reading if this is the kind of thing that interests you.  And if it doesn’t, thanks for scrolling on through quietly and loving me anyway! Xo
 
P.S.  After I wrote this, I went back to look at some of my old posts and realized my first published post was on this very day (February 1) in 2013.  Coincidence?  I think not!  The universe is telling me it’s time to begin…again!

We recently had our Kindergarten Orientation.  This is something I have planned and coordinated for the past ten years.  Each year it looks a little different, but one thing always stays the same…the emotions.  When you are a first time parent sending your baby off to school for the first time, there are a multitude of emotions.  Both parents and children alike are all a bit anxious, excited, some a little sad.  The kids look to their parents for reassurance that this whole school thing is going to be ok and we make them “walk the walk” as we immediately separate parents and children, each going on their own adventure.  I see the fear in the children’s eyes and the hesitation in the parents’ awkward goodbye as they put on a brave front and send them on, but watch every move to be sure they are going to be ok.  Each year I feel a tug at my heart as I watch families embark on this milestone and I want to hug each of them and say “It’s going to be ok…you have so much to look forward to!  So many amazing “firsts” yet to come!”

Well, I’ve come full circle. 

It’s me that needs that hug right now and some reassurance as I experience my “last” today.  The last day I send my son off to school with his sister.  The last brown bag lunch of almost identical items I’ve been making him for too many years to count.  The last morning he will sit at the bar eating his Frosted Flakes, smiling at me before heading off to school or leaving early to get his egg biscuits from Hardees.  So many “lasts” this year…the last school dance, the last high school basketball game, the last soccer practice, and the last time bugging the front office to check him out for the umpteenth time!  The last time our family of four will all be home together each night.  The last time he will be considered a kid to some degree.  I’ve been in the eye of the storm here lately with graduation “stuff”.  Senior pictures, yearbook pages, senior slide show, announcements, parties, applying and preparing for college.  So much keeping me busy, I haven’t had time to reflect on these last days of high school life for my son.

I’m going to make this short and sweet because trying to type through eyes blurred with tears is not easy.  I certainly don’t know what the future holds for him, but what I do know is that he has made the most of these unforgettable years.  He found a passion for a sport that he will continue to play in college.  He has been a successful student while learning to balance school, sports and an active social life.  He made an incredible group of friends that I might actually miss as much as he will!  He’s matured into such a remarkable young man right before my eyes.  I also know he’s ready…ready for this next adventure.  And after some tears and hours sifting through old pictures and wondering where the years and my baby boy went, I’m telling myself what I wish I could tell my kindergarten parents…”It’s going to be ok…you have so much to look forward to!  So many more amazing “firsts” yet to come!”

He’s got this…and so do I.

So, Happy Last Day of School to all you extraordinary seniors!  I can’t wait to watch you make your mark on the world!  And to all my favorite senior moms out there…with school events and sports and our kids gone, let’s make a promise to continue to keep in touch.  I’m going to miss you too!!

I know they say, you can't go home again.
Well, I just had to come back one last time.
And Ma'am, I know, you don't know me from Adam,
But these hand prints on the front steps are mine.
Up those stairs, in that little back bedroom,
Is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar.
And I bet you didn't know, under that live oak,
My favorite dog is buried in the yard.

I love this song by Miranda Lambert.  I also cry every time I hear it…EVERY. TIME. 

My mom is currently moving out of “the house that built me” and packing up over 40 years of memories.  I’m a bit surprised at how emotional I feel about this.  I haven’t lived there since 1993, but I still consider it my home.  My dad and a couple of grad students from Virginia Tech built the house themselves.  Back then it was considered a pretty cool house.  The architecture is very unique.  There were features to the house unusual to other houses; a master light switch board in my parents’ bedroom where they could turn on or off all the lights in the house, an intercom system throughout the house where we could talk to each other without screaming, a “phone booth” that housed the “kids phone” in the hallway outside our bedrooms, and lots of “modern” technology that was innovative for the time.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel It,
This brokenness inside me might start healing.
Out here it's like I'm someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself.
If I could just come in, I swear I'll leave
Won't take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me.

We moved into this house when I was about 5 years old.  I still remember that first Christmas.  The downstairs was not finished (in fact we had no stairs going downstairs…can you say safety hazard!) so all six of us spent the night upstairs for many weeks.  We had a tiny Christmas tree my mom sat on a card table in the kitchen.  We made a path through all the boxes and piles of furniture, which led to a small sofa where all of us would watch the one TV in the house.  There were not even door handles on the doors to the outside.

Mama cut out pictures of houses for years,
From "Better Homes and Garden" magazine.
Plans were drawn and concrete poured
And nail by nail and board by board,
Daddy gave life to mama's dream

From that first Christmas on, the house started to build me.  So much time with neighborhood kids playing outside and running from one house to another.  Holidays, birthdays, sleepovers, getting ready for school dances, and watching TV with boyfriends.  Sneaking in and out of those famous sliding glass doors throughout the house, sharing a room with my little sister and wishing my older brother and sister would just let me in their rooms!  Tuesday night was always bridge night and we would sit downstairs and listen to my mom and her friends talk and laugh while the dads played poker at another neighbor’s house.  There were plenty of memories of our family dog, Bigelow, a constant companion to all of us for close to 15 years in that house.  And then recollections that shaped me in a deeper way…I spent the night there the night before my wedding.  I remember sitting on the bed in my bedroom writing my parents a letter and feeling sentimental as I started my own life in my own home.  After I was married, we had a terrible ice storm.  No one had power.  My parents were out of town, but my siblings and I all met at their house and huddled up together around a fire in their fireplace and talked, played games and I felt so blessed to have them. This is also the house my father died in, teaching me so many lessons about loss and love.  I’ve retreated to this house many times when the demands of being a wife and mother became too great.  Each time I would go there, it would be the calm I needed during a chaotic time and the peace I needed when I was beginning not to like who I was becoming.  It was healing.

You leave home, you move on
And you do the best you can.
I got lost in this whole world
And forgot who I am.

The years in that house shaped me in ways I could never articulate.  And there have been periods of my life when I have felt lost, and being in the house and neighborhood I grew up in, always seemed to help me find myself.  Although it is extremely bittersweet to say goodbye, I deeply believe the closing of one door is the opening of another.  I’m very excited for my mom’s new adventure and it is definitely time for her to have closure to that part of her life.  I know we will make new and equally wonderful memories in her new home.  As I say goodbye to the house that built me, my focus turns to my own home that I am raising my own children in.  I hope their memories in our home will be as abundant, meaningful, and joyful as mine are, and no matter how far they go, they always find their way back…to the house that built them.

Goodbye 234 Craig Drive…thanks for the memories!

A few years ago we bought a Jeep Wrangler.  It’s been a fun car that has allowed me to take the dog roaming through fields and streams and also drive with the top off and pretend I am young and free again.  But the best part of owning a Jeep is being in the “Jeep Club”.

When I first got the Jeep, I noticed people I didn’t know were waving to me.  I decided they must just think I’m someone else.  Then it occurred to me that everyone waving and smiling at me was also driving a Jeep.  I told my kids I thought there must be some kind of “Jeep Club” and they just rolled their eyes at me and told me I was crazy.  But as they rode with me and saw the other Jeep owners waving and smiling every time we passed, they realized I was right!  I asked a friend who has owned a Jeep for a long time about my imaginary phenomenon and he said, “Oh yeah!  It’s awesome!  I broke down the other day and three different Jeeps stopped to help me!  You’re never alone when you’re driving a Jeep!”

I began to think, wouldn’t it be amazing if there was a club like this for everything in life?  You know, a supportive group of people that are kind and friendly, and have your back.  Although you are strangers, you are never really “alone” because you have this special bond.  Everyone keeps an eye out for each other and stops to help instead of turning away and passing judgment.  So, I’m proposing we create some other “clubs.”

Here are a few I personally need…

The mom-of-teenagers club

The empty-nest-is-about-to-happen club

The this-aging-thing-sucks club

The I-don’t-feel- like-working-out-but-I-know-I-should-so- I-feel-lazy club

The there-are-not-enough-hours-in-the-day-to-get-it-all-done club

The it-feels-harder-and-harder-to-maintain-my-friendships club

The where-in-the-world-did-these-love-handles-come-from club

The I-really-want-to-go-on-the-all-juice-diet-but-i-love-french-fries-too-much club

The being-a-mom-of-a-senior-is-stressful club

In these clubs we would never judge each other, only smile and wave each time we pass, with a knowing nod that we have each other’s backs, even though we don’t even know each other.  We build each other up instead of tearing each other down and instead of snide remarks and jealousy; we complement and support anyone that needs it.  There are no rules or initiations to be part of these clubs, if you want to be in it, you are. 

Life is hard but it seems just a little easier each morning as I drive to work.  The other day I counted seven waves and smiles on my morning commute.  I’ve gotten my Jeep wave down to a science, friendly but not desperate.   Unfortunately my husband is trying to ruin my Jeep Club reputation by purposely looking ridiculous when he waves back.  See there…another club I need!  The my-husband-can-be-extremely-annoying club…who wants in?! 

In the case of this blog, it's definitely the latter!!

It's been almost a year since I last posted and my domain has been off line for the past month, but in the last year I have had over 60,000 visits to my page...WHAT?!?  So thank you for sticking with me and continuing to be interested, even as I was wrestling with where to go with this blog and more importantly where to go with my writing.

My life is no different than each of yours...an exciting, yet terrifying roller coaster ride with amazing highs and heart stopping lows.  The only way to survive this ride is with someone there beside you to hold on to while you alternate between laughing hysterically and crying manically!  Luckily I've got great people beside me, including YOU!  Your comments and private messages in response to my past posts have touched me deeply.  I know there is more to talk about and as I get older, the need to have a community of friends who, although may not always agree, understand and support each other becomes a crucial part of my own emotional well being.

So, I'm back on the roller coaster and I hope you'll join me once again on this crazy ride called LIFE! xoxo

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.

Someone asked me recently why it has been so long since I’ve posted anything to my blog.  Without hesitation, I responded “I am so busy!”  Then I cringed.  I couldn’t believe those four awful words had passed my lips!  Unfortunately it’s not the first time either…

I used to wear my “busyness” as a badge of honor.  I took pride in showing people my color-coordinated, completely full calendar.  People would shake their heads and say, “I don’t know how you do it.” I wasn’t sure how I did it either, but I was proud that I did.  There was something for me that equated being busy with being efficient, being productive, being organized, and having it all together.  The sad part is I was far from any of those things, but the busyness allowed me to avoid facing the real me. 

The truth is, I was using being busy as an excuse.

As long as I was busy and could prove my busyness with my overflowing schedule, I had an excuse.  An excuse for not being an attentive wife or playful mother.  An excuse for not being a supportive friend or mindful volunteer.  An excuse for not taking care of myself, both physically and mentally.  An excuse for never being in the moment, because I was always coordinating my next day’s worth of busyness. 

When a weekend would come upon me that was completely clear, I would feel a bit of anxiety.  Being busy had become such a huge part of my identity, I wasn’t sure who I was without a list of activities that needed me.  I was never quite sure what to do with myself.

As I sit here today, my calendar is just as full, but my attitude about being busy is completely different.  Here’s the thing…

We are ALL busy!!!  Whether we are a stay-at-home mom with young children or a working mom with no children, we are busy!  Whether we are volunteering our time or being a caregiver to our parents, we are busy!  Whether we are working at a job we love or watching our kids play sports, we are busy!  Whether we are writing a blog or preparing a garden for food for our family, we are busy!

And here’s the other thing…

We ALL make time for things that are a priority for us, no matter how busy we are.  Some of us make time to go to the gym or make a healthy dinner.  Others make time to walk our dog or call our mom.  We make time to be at our son’s soccer game or spend a few minutes with our granddaughter.  Some of us make time to meet our friend for a drink or volunteer in our child’s class.  While others make time to read a book or watch our favorite TV show.  We make time to have dinner with our kids or go shopping for that special outfit for the weekend!

I’m not saying it’s easy, I’m just saying it’s not an excuse. 

And I’m not saying we can do everything we want to do. 

There are times I have to say no to spending time with friends because of my kids sports or because I’m at the gym, but there are also times I need to say no to the gym or skip a game because I miss my friends.  Sometimes I forgo a healthy dinner so I can read a book in my hammock.  Other times I don’t get to walk my dog because I meet my husband out for a quick catch up.  And the times I don’t say no or I try to do it all, leads to all kinds of stress.

It’s about finding balance.

I mentioned in a previous post that our school was focusing on the The 7 Habits of Happy Kids this year.  The seventh habit is Sharpen the Saw.  This habit reminds us that just as a car needs four tires to run properly, we also have four parts that need equal attention in order to be healthy and happy human beings…our body, heart, mind, and soul.  It’s with taking care of all four areas that we find that peaceful balance.  I would challenge you that if you find yourself “too busy” for something or someone in your life, one of these four parts is consuming too much of your time.

I now cherish my down time as much as I cherish my busy time.  I’m being intentional in making sure all four of my tires are pumped with air and ready to go!  For example, on Easter I used my heart when I spent time with family celebrating over a delicious meal.  I used my body when I went for a long walk in the sunshine.  I used my mind when I spent time reading a book in my hammock, and I used my soul when I heard the wonderful sermon at church.  Obviously, every day can’t be like that, but I’m determined to find a little heart, mind, body, and soul in as many days as I can!

So let’s quit using busy as an excuse and let us never be too busy sawing to take time to sharpen the saw!!

image by careergirlnetwork.com