FAT means LAZY

If you don’t know, now you know baby!

Wait!! You didn’t know? How could you NOT know with as many times its thrown in your face. It is engrained in our mind at a young age that:

Fat is ugly. 

Fat is lazy. 

Fat is dirty. 

Fat is…… 

Today, I was notified of a new comment on a friend’s status by someone else who commented after me. Now I don’t know these people, I do not speak for these people, and I try to not down those on their opinion or lack there of. But what did scream out to me was fat and lazy and then again fat and lazy used as a joke/insult. I didn’t take this as a personal insult but I find it funny that fat and lazy always must be used a joke.
 “OH it’s funny cause your fat! Kinda thing.”
Whether you are happy in your fat or fit or somewhere in between body please remember that you are beautiful in the very body that you are in right now. Whatever the status of your body you are beautiful!! I’m told on a daily basis that: I’m not fat, I’m beautiful. But here is the thing, I am fat! Also, just in case you didn’t know I am also beautiful. Lately, I have been on a journey within myself. Falling back in love with myself and removing those around me that may not be for me. I have been ridding myself of those negative comments I make to myself. It’s as though I am having an internal argument. I assure you, I am not crazy… I think. On the bright side, I have found that I’ve become hardened to myself. Now, im finding I need to break that wall down and breathe. 
Times in your life you may feel like a busted can of biscuits. I’ll wait, I know you’re picturing it. I know I feel that way at times. I don’t feel beautiful, I don’t feel pretty, or sexy, or lovely, or any of those sweet words you whisper to yourself after you get ready for a night house. But here is MY secret! I may not feel those ways all the time but I KNOW that I am. That’s the difference. Let me say that you again! I may not feel pretty, but I KNOW that I am. I know it. I also know that when I’m snotty nosed and bundled under blankets like the sausage that I am… I AM NOT PRETTY!! Ha! But under the wall of Kleenex I am a beautiful woman!
Find your beauty, embrace it, make your beauty your best damn friend!! Tell that bitch, WE GOT THIS! Too much!? *shrugs* 

The point is be your own best friend. I’ve never in my life ever told my best friend that she’s ugly. Don’t believe me? Ask her. My lovey will tell you that even on her worst days she is beautiful to me. So make yourself your own best friend, tell yourself you are beautiful…. Kleenex wall and all.

Please excuse any typos but I had to get this out via cell post. 

Still here

After seeing the word “quit”, I felt the need to pop in. 

Pop in and just say HEY!! 

*waves* 

I’m still here and I’m not going anywhere.

When it rains, it pours.

If you couldn’t tell from the title, it’s raining here. I’m sitting in the passenger seat while my fiancé attempts to console me from the scale once again. While I listen to the windshield wipers wipe away the down pour I’m angered that

The scale and I

This time last year, I was unhappy. 

This time last year, I hated how I looked in a bathing suit. 

This time last year I felt like I was drowning in the fat I wanted so badly to love. 

But most importantly, this time last year I would have never been able to see where I am THIS year. 

I could never even imagine that I would be engaged and soon to be marrying the love of my life. To get a bit personal, my FH changed my life in every

Pasta and cake and all things great!

Did the title throw you off? 

No… Well it through me all the way off. I said when I started this weight loss I would be honest with you but most importantly, I’d be honest with myself. Last week was filled with tons of pasta. Last week was a “empty pockets” week were when you go to the grocery store you know you can only afford pasta and $1 pasta sauce. *insert a ‘it is what it is shrug’ here* 

Home

home

hōm/

noun

The place where one lives permanently.

---

I have never,

nor will I ever, water down my love for you to make another comfortable.

This is something I feel strongly about.

And this,

this is something I can guarantee.

Often times we can close our eyes and depending on what home is to someone,

they can explain it to you in vivid detail.

They can tell you the strength they feel when they move through their home.

They can tenderly give you a front row seat into what their home looks like.

At any moment,

a person can close their eyes and give you a front row movie preview of their home.

Last night,

I explained to you what my home felt like.

I explained to you my longing for my home.

Like a mug of hot chocolate awaits a winter’s night.

I explained to you my home.

So close your eyes with me.

Welcome to my home.

My home smells like what early Saturday morning feels like if you could place a smell on it at all.

Fresh cut grass, black coffee, and pancakes.

Hot Krispy Kreme donuts.

Smells like the way the scent of cinnamon trails upon your nose.

My home feels how chocolate tastes.

My home

gives me the relief after a late night pray before my curls even reach my pillow.

It gives me a covering.

My home gives me tender kisses deep in my hair when I’m frustrated and disgusted with the world.

It has distinct sounds of sweet hums and Anthony Hamilton playing as the shower runs.

It has finger tips that cools my hot temper.

My home is humble.

It is kind.

It is

magnificent.

My home reminds me of how a little girl feels when she sees Cinderella’s castle in person for the first time.

Reminds me of pop-tarts with butter.

The way my Papa used to make them.

Two toasted strawberry Pop-tarts, smothered in butter served with decaf coffee.

Three sweet-n-low’s and LOTS of creamer.

It feels like early morning cuddles while the alarm fades into the curtains

and sweet dreams of nothings.

My home is chocolate

and deep

and everything my father dreamed for me.

Him.

Have you ever had a home that had its own mind?

Had its own way of speaking to you.

My home speaks to my soul.

If I had all the time in the world I still could not explain to you my home.

But I can say my home makes me feel like how a distant memory still makes you smile randomly.

How the beach makes my heart sing.

How remaking corny infomercials with my father makes me laugh.

How chocolate cake gives me sinful pleasure.

I have never hidden the love I have for my home even when those around me are still finding bricks for their own.

My home is filled dreams

and things beyond my own imagination.

A KINGdom built for me.

My home is him.

He is where I have promised to live.

Permanently.

Peeling away

Have you ever seen the picture of the skinny girl peeling away the fat girl she used to be, because she finally made it?

No? Is it just me?

Maybe, just maybe, it is just me that finds this

If it was a snickers bar…

So here’s the thing… I AM THE NUMBER ON THE SCALE. So stop telling me I’m not! Anyone who knows me knows that I am an unapologetic fat girl who speaks her mind whether or not you’re going to like it.  I know people may say this as encouragement or a pick me up but it’s not really. Not that I’m not appreciative for what you’re trying to say but the fact remains… I am that number. 

Bunny Snuggles

Welp! 

The “weight” is over… Or should I say, the weight is in?

Tonight was my second training session with Jeremy at EpocFit and boy let me tell you… he kicked mine and DH behinds tonight. It was much harder today than it was on Monday. My whole body is sore and I hear from the health nuts that that is an amazing feeling. Well, I’m here to tell you

Little Hungry Voice

It’s 10:30 AM and I’m full but unsatisfied. This is a different unsatisfied feeling because it’s like a little voice telling me to eat. 

Telling me “You need more!”