It’s been almost a year since I’ve posted. I’m fairly confident that like 1/8 of my posts are posts where I claim, “I’m back! I’m totally going to crush it, now! I’ve got my head on right, no more Fake It Til You Make It! I’m for real this time.”
This isn’t one of those posts. I mean, obviously I’m back. But I’m not here to lie and talk a big game where I know there’s going to be minimal follow-through, I’m not here to post all the BS Motivational Monday Memes I can find, to wax poetic with quotes about how I’m a winner, full of fire and determination. I’m here, and that’s all I can promise right now.
See, three weeks ago I started doing a ton of research on Keto. As I always do, I dove into podcasts and books, blogs and facebook groups. I found all the popular people, I followed them. I researched recipes, planned meals, and went shopping.
I wrote a little journal entry praising myself and my newfound lifestyle. Talked a big game, about how I was going to stick with this and change my life. For myself, for my family, for all of us.
And then I started.
Except I didn’t. I kind of did. I made it three days before deciding that I needed a drink. And then there was that party.
So I started again. The Next Monday. Another Journal entry: Day One Again. Big game talk, and then realizing that the actual Big Game (remember when you couldn’t say SuperBowl? Why was that?!) was this week, so why not wait until next week so I can eat whatever I want?
Can you guess what I did today? Another Journal Entry: Day One…Again. For Real.
It’s almost comical right? I’m going to run out of qualifiers, and I’ll still be writing random Day One journal entries. Just 200 pages of entries titled “Day One _____, _______:_______.” An entire journal full of nothing but excuses, fake outs and blatant lies I tell to myself.
No, I have to be honest. I know myself well enough to know that I’m not speaking my truth.
What do I need to do to actually do it this time? I have to really want it, and I’m only 87% sure I do. There’s this part of me that says, “Maybe you’re not worth it. You’ll fail, and you’ll have to admit that all this time has been wasted. You don’t deserve this.”
That was the scariest, most honest thing I’ve ever shared here. People who know me can attest that I am full of confidence. I’ll get up and speak in front of any group at any time, I’ll dance my heart out knowing I can’t dance. I know who I am, and I love who I am. But there’s always been this part of me that’s terrified to fail, to get hurt.
If you don’t try, you can’t fail, right?
I’ve spent 35 years with my feet firmly planted inside my comfort zone. It’s snuggly here, and I’m surrounded by my favorite people. I know what to expect.
But I’m tired of feeling like I’m stuck here. I don’t want to wake up in ten years, with a journal full of “Day One” entries. I don’t want to find out that the feeling of regret that comes from “What If?”far, far, far outweighs the current fear of failure. And I’m 100% sure that it will.
I’m not a math genius, but even I can see that 100% is greater than 87%. (Though I had to delete my first draft sentence there, because I put the less than sign instead of greater than…and then remembered PacMan, and that I should stick to words because numbers require me to google. Don’t tell.) Maybe I should just focus on doing the scary things, and see what follows?
So that’t the new plan. Stop bullshitting everyone. Be authentic, and just do the scary things. Like sharing my actual weight, and measurements and pictures. Share the photos of my bad angles, the ones with the double chins. Don’t hide the “bad” foods and slip ups. Stop hiding behind this screen, and let the universe know what’s up.
I mean, anyone who sees me can see this, so “hiding” it and not sharing doesn’t make it any less true. So let’s share! (I’m on a roll here, two super scary arse things in one post. Eeeeek!)
Day One (*Maybe): February 13, 2017
Photos taken by a 5 year old, don’t hate.
Hips- 50.5 (this includes my lovely hang from two c-sections)
Bicep- (L) 14
Bicep- (R) 14
Forearm- (L) 10
Forearm- (R) 10
Thigh- (L) 22
Thigh- (R) 22
Calf- (L) 16
Calf- (R) 16
I know I’m not alone in this. If you’re like me, if you can relate in any way, send me a message or comment below. I’d love to chat!