One of my biggest fears when it comes to my relationship, is losing my identity. I’m so afraid if I don’t protect it fiercely, it will be swallowed up by my partner and I’ll be left living a lifetime in a BIG, FAT, SHADOW. I grew up watching my mother sacrifice, and then sacrifice some more, for my father to build his career. I then watched as his respect for her diminished over time and thought that was normal. More recently, I “watch” my father’s wife tout on social media the “hobbies” she loves doing which are essentially my dad’s hobbies. I even watched as she gave away her Shih Tzu and instead bought two dogs that were my father’s favorite breed instead. I remembered thinking HOW is this middle aged woman still doing the exhausting work of being someone she is not to please my father the narcissist? Not only is it annoying when I see grown women stuck in this vicious cycle of partner pleasing but it is infuriating that their partner would want to overshadow the unique soul he is sharing his life with.

I’ve seen it happen first hand to too many women and I’ve been that woman myself. I’ve adopted the hobbies of my exes and did SO MUCH CRAP I DON’T LIKE TO DO, like fishing. I BLOODY HATE FISHING because I feel bad for the fish and it’s the most boring thing I can think of. You toss a line in the water and then feel like a macho man or woman when you reel in a live but injured animal that thought it was getting breakfast and instead got a hook in the mouth?!? Nothing about fishing seems right to me. The laziness with which one catches fish and the prizes the fish are viewed as. If you really want to impress me, jump out of the boat and catch a fish with your bare hands. Now that would be a feat right there! No hook in the mouth, the fish can go free when you’re done, and you got a workout in. Win. Win. Win. In another relationship, I told myself I also liked living in a sanitary bubble and never wanted to get my hands dirty (turns out that wasn’t me either). And in yet another, I told myself I really loved not putting labels on things just existing like a free spirited hippie (also, apparently, totally false).

Watching my parents’ dysfunctional marriage growing up wasn’t confusing, it just was the way it was. I didn’t grow up seeing my father treat my mother with much respect. His career was always what was important, and while she kicked serious butt raising three kids as a stay at home mom, I never once heard him THANK HER for the doing the MOST DIFFICULT JOB of the two. He never once came in the door after work and said, “How can I help with dinner or the kids?” There was an expectation similar to  the norm of my grandparents’ era that the house would be clean, the kids would be handled and all the meals would be made by her. I’m sure it didn’t start out this way. I’m sure they marched into love thinking they’d be incredible teammates in life. And THIS is what is so FREAKING SCARY to me. How do relationships break down to the point where one person doesn’t even recognize who he or she is anymore?

The other side of the story I came to resent as a teenager was why my mom didn’t DEMAND respect from my dad. It made me an angry teen. She sighed, sucked it up, let her resentment build and more and more frequently passive aggression would bubble out of her. And like beads on an abacus, instead of sliding to the same side, working together, they just slid to opposite sides. When I became a mouthy teen, I started to pick at my mom for serving my dad like a king. I demanded to know why she didn’t just say, “No I’m not doing that. Dinner is not happening, YOU can cook tonight.” The truth was, she was holding on by a thread and had suppressed her needs, hopes and dreams so far down she didn’t have the words or energy to explain decades of feeling less than to a an unruly teenage girl. I don’t blame her.

So with my only playbook information being what I witnessed in my parent’s marriage, I went off to college naïve and hopeful that maybe I could meet THE ONE. I thought that true love’s kiss would save me or at least distract me from my own dislike of myself at the time.  I was hopelessly romantic and all I knew was that my parents met in college. All the stories about college I heard from my parent’s generation was that was where your soulmate could be found. This idea was very enticing for a 17 year old girl dying to get out of Iowa. I had drummed up this fantasy of a sophisticated intellectual college romance ending with a beautiful white wedding which, therefore, equaled eternal happiness. The truth was, when I had my first long term college relationship I had no idea how who I was or what I wanted out of life. I also didn’t think it was okay to express who I thought I was if I wasn’t really sure. So I became a shape shifter and I adopted his life. If he asked me where I wanted to go out to eat I’d always say I didn’t care. I left so many of the decisions up to him. I wanted to please him. I wanted him to love me and I wanted to get married. Man, I was a fool.

After things fell apart, I was completely freaked out by the idea of marriage. If the formula I knew of how to be in a relationship was correct then marriage was just a lifetime of pretending I’m someone else. Was that all it ever could possibly be?!?!? After that relationship ended there were other boyfriends, but as I started developing more of my own adult identity, I didn’t chameleon as much or let it go as far as that college relationship. I knew the things I didn’t want or like from my previous relationships but I was still unable to paint a complete picture of who I was to my partner. So instead, I grew increasingly impatient with my boyfriends. I didn’t want to party as much or I didn’t want to sit at home in the air conditioning all summer if the temperature got above 80 degrees. I started listening to these feels of being constrained or denied who I actually was and as a result those relationships didn’t last as long. Each time I broke free, I understood more about who I was and what I wanted out of life.

I’m most comfortable when things are in progress and I think I’m working towards something. I’m extremely uncomfortable when something really good just plops into my lap out of nowhere. That was Larry. He was this big plop of goodness in my life. To say I panicked would be an understatement. I was befuddled and FREAKED OUT. This kind, respectful, loving man is telling me he likes me… what the hell am I going to do with this information?!? I panicked. What do you do with a really honest person who shows you a lot of respect through their actions and isn’t full of hot air? If you’re like me, and trust issues should be tattooed across your forehead, you test the hell out of him. You look to push buttons, you let him know on the 2^nd date exactly who you are, what you want out of life and what you’re not willing to sacrifice to come together as a couple. And yet, he didn’t’ run away…

As our relationship grew, we talked more and more about getting married I had some real fears. Not only were we talking marriage but we were also talking leaving San Diego. I was sure that moving was the first step down the slippery slope towards losing who I had become. So far, I think I’m still me, but who knows? Maybe that will change. I am so afraid Larry will become the boogie man and I will become a wilting flower. I’m so scared I’ll lose who I am that I’ll wake up having lost decades on my life I’ll never get back. We took a big leap of faith in hopes maybe our story will be different than our parents.  On my positive days I whole heartedly believe it’s possible. On my days filled with self-doubt, I wonder if it’s inevitable that time and life stressors will wear us down into fragments of the rocks we once were? I had a clear choice: Let this person go from my life out of fear or walk through my fears and follow my gut. After careful over analysis I always came back to he is worth the risk. I had become so protective over myself like if I didn’t watch over who I was like a guard at the base of tower, I’d slip away like a Post It in the wind. I’ll always be hyper vigilant about feeling controlled or beholden to a man. I’m just that way. So far, beginning to trust and let go of my biggest fear has enriched my life. I thought I’d feel helpless and lost. Instead I feel empowered and whole. Sometimes the very thing we want the most (GROWTH) is the thing we are most afraid of. Will I live to regret leaving my life in San Diego? I’m not exactly sure. But so far, I’m pleasantly surprised by the deeper meaning I’ve found in all of my close relationships once I loosened the grip. Will I ever let go of my fear completely? Currently that sounds too SCARY, but my goal is to ultimately be freed from fear as I strive towards my goal one day at a time.

 

                                                                         

Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ve heard it, read it, been told a million times that in order to lead a healthy life, “It’s all about finding a balance.” As I strive to live my best life, something about hearing this ANNOYS me. If the word BALANCE were a big target in the sky, I’d want to shoot it down with a flaming arrow. What does it even mean??? I suppose it means take things in moderation? But here’s the truth about balance: It is as big of an illusion as the concept of PERFECTION. Striving for balance means aiming at a moving target and feeling like a failure if you’re not eating fields of kale and organic grass fed protein, and working out past the point of your body’s natural point of exhaustion. The advice also induces guilt, if you need a night off from busting your butt at the gym and enjoy multiple glasses of wine instead, why should you feel like a failure?

My natural body type is that of a cake pop and my beloved dog’s is that of an artisan loaf of bread. My husband is blessed with a lean genetic build and the ability to pause and feel full while eating. We’re hoping any future children get his blessed genes. Frankie, and I? Not so much. We don’t have an off switch receptor so we eat what’s in front of us until it’s gone. Just a cake pop and a bread loaf enjoying each meal side by side then finishing off what Larry leaves behind. Thankfully, Frankie, has the highest self esteem and absolutely zero body issues. Just one of the many perks of being a dog.

So my dog and I are NOT naturally thin creatures. That’s okay!  If I was, I would be lazier. Well, I’d be Frankie… Instead, vanity drives me to actively work against my cake pop body type whereas Frankie has fully given up on life. Instead of coveting someone else’s body, I’m learning how to love my own for it’s strength, speed and flexibility (for what my body can do). I’ve learned how to put a larger structure in place within my daily and weekly routines so I can maintain looking less like a cake pop and more like an 70% lean piece of solid beef. Thankfully, where my dog and I differ is I do love to exercise! It keeps my stress levels down and is a way of expressing myself. I enter a flow state when I exercise where nothing exists but my breath and the task at hand. My mind turns off, my body knows what to do, and I trust it to take me to the end.

Foods I have to regulate to keep me in check: White pasta, tortillas, tortilla chips and white rice, potato chips. I love me a good bowl of comfort carbs! Who doesn’t? I’m the lady at Chipotle who on a bad day, asks for a giant warmed tortilla on the side. Larry will see the foiled piece of lard love sitting next to my bowl, and know instantly, it’s been a bad day. So like any work of art, the jury is still out on what my actual health status is. But here are the most important boxes I know I’m checking off:

1) I have energy throughout my day

2) I have a general positive outlook on life

3) My body is fueled in a way that it can perform when put to the test

It’s easy to get swept up into health crazes and I admire those who can weigh their food and pre-plan what they are going to eat out at a restaurant. But for me, eating too rigidly, takes a lot of the joy out of eating, so instead I follow some very basic guidelines. They are my buoys in the storm of life which can be messy, complicated and stressful. When life stressors get too high and I’m being greeted on a first name basis at Chipotle, I know I need to get back to what I know works for me. Here are my health buoys:

• PLAN your weekly grocery list and try to add one new veggie side a week. I like to bake my veggies in olive oil and spices in the winter because it’s easy and delicious and I abhor salads when it’s cold out and I like to make fresh salads in the summer because it’s easy and delicious.

• COOK for yourself whenever you can and cook in excess! You’ll save money, eat better, and have the bonus of leftovers! I cook for myself even if my husband is gone. Non-negotiables for are protein, veggies, healthy fat and a carb that doesn’t make me feel bloated like sweet potatoes. Don’t forget about the leftovers you can freeze that still taste good defrosted a month later, like chili! YUM!

• LEFTOVERS for the win. If you cook well, you are guaranteed that your next day lunches will be just as nutritious. It’s a no brainer way to have healthy lunches throughout the work week.

• PARTY WATER. Make sure your urine is clear throughout the day and jazz up your water with cucumber slices, mint, or fresh squeezed lemon juice. I call it Party Water because that’s exactly what it is, dressed up, looking good, and smelling good. This water is ready for a good time and I have a better time drinking more of it when it’s jazzy.

• SLEEP. Not everyone can get the amount of sleep they need so just try and make sure the sleep you do get is quality sleep. We recently moved to a place with a pair of blackout shades and they have changed my sleep game. The quality of sleep I get is so much better. I wish I had known this earlier and I would’ve invested in a pair of black out shades sooner.

• EXERCISE.  Sports and exercise have always been in my life but I continue to evolve to do what speaks to me, what motivates me, and what I see myself wanting to get better at. Figure out what type of exercise speaks to you and MOVE DAILY. Some days it’s CrossFit other days it’s walking outside. Some days its yoga, other days its swimming, and sometimes it’s just walking the dog (against Frankie’s will of course). Your body tells you what it needs. Listen to it.

• Find the JOY in taste. For me, a good cheese, a good dark chocolate, a good glass of red wine, and a fresh donut are all worth living for. I try to remember they’re also meant to be tasted not inhaled. Try and make sure your treats are quality and you eat them without distraction. I eat my treats on my balcony away from the computer and TV. When there’s a screen in front of me, I don’t even know I’m eating!

• Say NO to junk in the house: Unless you have an insane amount of self-discipline, just don’t do it. If someone offered me dragon eggs, I wouldn’t take them because I know I can’t control a full-grown dragon. I know myself, and it’s the same with junk food. I get too weak and I work from home. Recent example, I made Larry banana bread. He left for a work trip for 3 days, came home and said banana bread was gone. He said, “You ate that banana bread in 3 days?!?” I lied saying, NO, blamed it on the dog, then admitted, YES, and added that that I had extended the poor banana bread’s due date by eating it in three days instead of one. He shook his head and I smiled.

That’s about it. I like the routines my structure give me during my week and the way I feel when I keep up with them. Am I balanced? Hardly. When I get so far off the beaten path, I begin to question my identity, I find my buoys (The above mentioned routines, if you’ve been sleeping through this post). It’s okay to get out of routine so long as you get back into it. You haven’t fallen off any wagon and no one is judging you. Don’t beat yourself up, just find your buoys. And once you’re back to rocking your weekly health routines I challenge you to add in one more layer. Start to get in touch with your body’s intuition by asking yourself:

• What does my body need today?
• What does my mind/intellect need today?
• What does my spirit need today?

By answering these questions you’re taking your basic foundation (the healthy routines you do weekly) and customizing it to your own needs. Feeling good in your body is worth working for. It helps you maintain a positive outlook on life, provides you with increased physical energy and confidence, and it brings you one step closer to the place we all truly long to be, the land of self-acceptance.

It used to sting a little bit when Father’s Day would roll around. There was this old Folger’s coffee commercial where the daughter sneaks downstairs in her robe and slippers in the morning for coffee but her dad has already made her breakfast and a cup of perfectly brewed coffee. The commercial fades out with the father/daughter duo smiling at each other enjoying their coffees at the kitchen table and the jingle plays, “The best part of waking up, is Foldgers in your cup!”

The idea that a father can be a daughter’s greatest protector, hero, and soft place to land when life gets hard used to make me want to cry or throw something at the TV when I’d see those father/daughter hallmark commercials. However, it’s easy to see a visual ideal and long for what you didn’t get: the caring husband, father, wife, mother, grandparent, boyfriend, girlfriend, sibling, son or daughter. I am not a victim and I do not believe in self-pity or using my experiences as an excuse to be a degenerate.

Over the course of the past 10 years I’ve adopt two beliefs that bring me comfort daily:

1. The gratitude I have for the family who love me and the family I’ve created through friendships out shadow any resentment I have towards my father. This circle is tight and I am protective over it. This happens when you and your core unit has been messed with in the past. To me, they are the light, the good, and the love in my world and as long as I have the strength to do so, I’ll protect them.

 

2. I believe to my core that my personal experiences both good and ugly are what make me brave, a fierce protector, a skeptic, a tough critic, an adaptable individual, a flawed soul, a doer, a story teller, a relatable human being and a truth seeker.

When you’re raised by a parent with the emotional maturity of a child you become forced to grow up too fast. You become savvy to manipulation too young. You become burdened by adult emotions and believe you are responsible for your parent’s happiness. If that parent happens to be of the opposite sex, something in you believes you are not worthy of love in romantic relationships. Conditional love could have driven me to total self-destruction. In my darkest moments, destructive thoughts should have led to more destructive behavior. Looking back on it, I don’t know where I got my strength from. God? My moral compass? I think my friendships saved me at some critical points of darkness. To this day, the power of friendship is something I value so highly because of this.

This past Father’s Day, it struck me how far I’ve come in my own healing process and for that I’m really proud. On Father’s Day, like every holiday, if none of his kids reach out to him, my father sends all of us a text instead. It’s meant to actively gain our attention that we missed showering him with attention on HIS day. Ten years ago, a guilt trip text like this caused me extreme stress. This year, I read it, deleted it, and felt active pity for a man who continues to seek attention if and when it suits his needs. It was nothing more than a blip on my radar and I had a wonderful day.

As an adult, I’m working on my knee jerk reaction when I see other adults acting immaturely. It’s like I take personal offense to it. When I see grown adults making poor decisions and blaming others or the situation or flat out denying their wrong doing I get angry. It makes me repeat my favorite line from Bridesmaids, “GET YOUR SH$T TOGETHER, CAROL!” I guess I get this visceral reaction because I had to live under immaturity for so long; because I was forced to sift for the truth out of BS since I was a young kid; because to me, it crosses a boundary that is just not okay. I have a hard time respecting those who blame others for their problems, or remain on the run hiding behind substance abuse or shape shifting their identities by adopting new lives, or those who deny the existence of a problem all together.

I’m not saying I expect perfection or that perfect is a good goal. I’m not saying I’m better than anyone else. I am asking you to own your story. That’s it. It’s not always easy but it’s freeing and others can relate to and learn from the struggles you are willing to share. When will you face the things you’re afraid of instead of lying to yourself and to others? People don’t like hearing the truth because it’s often ugly. If you don’t want to hear it, then OWN it. Get to your truth before others can.  Sit in the ugly and the shame and then put in the work to stop blaming yourself for what happened to you. We all have a story. Walk into your darkness, unafraid, and see how your story has made you BRAVE. See how it has made you worthy of LOVE and choose the more difficult path of self-improvement over denial. You didn’t have control over how your story began, but the middle and ending are up to you. Don’t ever stop striving to do one better.