My First Post Revisited

My First Post Revisited

One of my longest blogging buddies Giggling Fattie tagged me for the #MyFirstPostRevisited challenge.

I will be stealing What Sandra Thinks corrected rules! I want to participate but then my annoying inner insecure self doesn’t want to bother people. I never get bothered by these just so you all know! I enjoy them.

Here’s what I’m supposed to going to do…

» Copy and paste your old post into a new post or reblog your own bad self. (Either way is fine but NO editing.)
» Put the hashtag #MyFirstPostRevisited in your title.
» Tag five other bloggers to take up this challenge.
» Notify your tags in the comment section of their blog
» Feel free to cut and paste the badge to use in your post.
» Include the rules in your post.

I think a reintroduction is a great idea. My blog has grown significantly since I began nearly a year and a half ago. I think at times I have stepped away from what I said my goals were when I began. However, the more I thought about it the more I realized that this blog often flows with the way my mind works… jumping to random topics. I have worked all that out… after all it is my blog!  Without further ado here is my very first post But let me first write an introduction. It was done probably 2 to 3 weeks after I signed up with WordPress. I was overwhelmed by the emptiness of my newly minted blog that I waited for one of the Blogging 101 classes to begin before I posted anything. It was a fun class that brought me to many of you!

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I would like to begin my blogging adventure with a short introduction and intent for what I will be sharing with whoever stumbles across my ramblings. My name is Stephanie and I am 33 year old woman from New York City. Like so many people I have had a life long struggle with allowing others to shape my opinions of myself. Over the past year my life has changed in so many profound ways that I have had this nagging feeling to write about it. That is why I have begun this blog. I am blogging publicly because I want to join in the body positive revolution by contributing my story and journey in hopes of helping others. I also want to contribute to the fight to end emotional, mental, and physical abuse. I hope to inspire others to do the same because no two peoples’ stories are the similar. We may share in the struggle but we each handle them in our own unique ways. We can learn from one another. Form a community with a stronghold of support. It took me decades to finally get a grip on myself and now I want to extend the invitation to join me on my journey to sustainable happiness and self-acceptance.

The title of this blog, “When I thought I was fat,” was born from my constant complaining about how “I wish I was the weight I was when I thought I was fat.” A mouth full I know, hence the shorter title, but for me, there is no truer statement. Ever since I was around six years old I believed myself to look like a “rollie pollie.” This was a result of how adults spoke to me and how it made me feel. From my cheerleading coaches to family members, no one was exempt from my overpowering abilities to let the words of others shape my self-esteem as I grew up.

Yet now when I look at old photographs of myself I do not see a “rollie pollie.” I see an active child. An athletic child. A child capable of doing all the same things, and sometimes even more, than children that were considered “thin” or “light.” I see a young high school girl that wore clothes that were entirely too big to hide this hideous thing people called “fat.” Yet I sit here now typing my first blog 70 pounds away from my high school weight wishing so bad to get that number back.

I began diets every Monday. Meal skipped. Joined a gym. Began weight watchers. Gave up. Rejoined a gym. Rejoined weight watchers. Starved myself. I was stressed and living in an unhealthy environment where I was made to feel worthless by a man who claimed to care for me. I wasn’t good enough as I was. I wasn’t pretty until I was thin. I didn’t deserve the respect of a man until I was thin. Everything was just on the other side of the “until I was thin.” All this accumulated to my highest weight of 338 lbs. Last June I joined weight watchers for the last time. Ditched the gym because I discovered long walks worked best for me. Through the support of my family, friends, weight watchers groups, and therapy, I have learned to take things day by day. I learned that I am more than just a number on a scale. I learned to be happy with myself as I am now. I have not mastered self-acceptance perfectly but I am so much stronger than I was two years ago.

 

Vianda Catering and Advocacy

My dear followers I want to present you a wonderful opportunity to contribute to something extremely worthwhile. One of my amazing friends has started a catering business to help fund the change she wants to see in this world. She is all about taking actions and has always been a inspiration for me. This strong and intelligent woman has been a friend of mine since those high years many moons ago and has remained one of my closest confidants. She was there for me during my darkest period and pretty much kept me alive when I saw no hope. Please take a moment out of your day to click on the link and read up on Vianda Catering and Advocacy and consider donating. If you are unable to donate please share this with others! It would mean the world to me

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Spiritual abuse and my fallout with religion

Spiritual abuse and my fallout with religion

Every time I have a question about the abuse I went through I turn to my handy dandy book, It’s My Life Now: Starting over after an Abusive Relationship or Domestic Violence. This truly has been a wonderful resource and has made me realize what I went through was not unique. Many of the situations mentioned in the book I was able to check off.  From the book I was able to identify the physical, emotional, and financial abuse that I was subjected. Today I ruminate about a recent discovery. Another set of dots I can connect on trying to figure out why my attitude and feelings I have changed Continue reading

Cleaning out the clutter…

Cleaning out the clutter…

For as long as I can remember I have always been a saver. I can find a sentimental value to nearly anything. This is probably why archiving would be a tough job for me. As a historian I see value in random things. They tell us stories if we are willing to listen to them. I remember how hard it was for me the first time I was asked to weed out books. Who cares if they are old! After all, they are a reflection of the ideas of their time. Come to think of it maybe this is the answer to that weakness question that interviewers ask… It is a weakness because I don’t want to do it but I would also want to get the job done. Many times I found weeded books interesting and therefore saved them for myself. HEY I just learned something new about myself so this is automatically a good day!

Anyway back to my collecting… I used to have boxes full of random things. Schoolwork I completed in grade school, report cards, articles I printed, and papers I wrote. I had albums of baseball cards, trophies from my cheerleading days, old clothes I used to wear that I loved but no longer fit. Old uniforms and sashes with earned girl scout badges, pom poms, movies, music, and my Backstreet Boys paraphernalia collection. I am positive there is much more but I try to not remember. If I can’t recall it I can’t miss it right?

I use past tense because all of these possessions were lost to me through an unpaid storage unit of my parents. I was living with my ex at the time so I found out about it months afterwards. I was pretty darn upset about it when it happened but it is not like I had the money to save the stuff as I was always broke. Nonetheless it hurt.

So I am living with a crazy person and as you know that stuff was less than safe (ripped clothes, broken glasses, cracked kindle… you remember right I don’t need to repeat it right?).  Yet these things were all I had. Add to that the feeling of having no where to go I was scared out of my mind to leave with nothing but whatever I could carry. I had no money to buy clothes. I had no money to do anything. So I stayed I guess partially due to fear of losing everything. My life felt like a down spiral that would never end.

When the time came that he let me go live with my aunt I had a duffel bag with some of my clothes and nothing else. All my other stuff such as a the rest of my clothes, a cable box, router, books and personal papers were left behind. These things would be recovered seven month later when he moved out of state and return what remained. In the meantime I remember sitting in my makeshift room feeling numb, lost, but yet unburdened. It was a nice feeling to not be bogged down by things. Things after all are not most important.  My safety was. It was at this point that I let go of my boxes of self history.

Fast-forward to present. I now live in my own house and I am terrified of filling it up with random things I will never touch or use. I want to buy these shelving units but in the back of my head I don’t because it is more stuff to clean. I love to decorate but at the same time I don’t want to look back 30 years from now and see an attic full of holiday decor collecting dust. I decided to do staples and fill in the rest with dollar store decorations but then throwing them away is bad for the environment. I can’t fully win. Yet I have two things I have no issue collecting. Clothes and Funko pops. I need to get that under control but those darn pops are so f-in cute!

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My latest bunch of pretties. Thank goodness they are inexpensive!

However, I noticed that there are many things that I have in the house that need not be… so like last year I will be participating in Lent even though I am not currently wholly religious. Last year I decided to give up shopping. Hardest 40 days but I did it. This year I am doing something a little different. I will be aiming to get rid of minimally one thing every day either for donation (or garbage). I will set up a box in my office to place donated items in and when lent is over I will take it to a donation center.

The idea came about from a weight watchers meeting about having less clutter will make you happy and therefore you will not overeat. At least that is what I got out of that meeting. I am a notorious emotional eater and I am well aware of how clutter makes me anxious so out it has to go! I think this experiment will be great for my mental health. It definitely got me thinking about whether or not there is an actual correlation between weight gain and clutter?

What will you be doing?

Essay 8/52

Happy two years!

Happy two years!

On a more positive less stressful note, this past weekend I celebrated two years together with the love of my life. He surprised me with a beautiful classic black bag from Michael Kors and a yummy edible arrangement with chocolate covered strawberries and chocolate hearts.

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Then we went out to a nice dinner in NYC at a steakhouse called Del Frisco’s. Soooo good I want to go back again!

Before all this on Valentine’s Day he made me chocolate heart shaped pancakes… I’m starting to see a chocolate trend yummy!

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I’m forever grateful to have him as my partner for life. The love he shows me is an everyday thing not just on the required holidays. I know that whatever happens he will always be there to listen to me vent, allow me to cry on his shoulder, protect me from harm, and feed me good food! They say when you meet the one you just know and I just know I’ll love him everyday forever and ever

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Gaslighting: Where is my protesting paycheck?

I don’t count many positive things from my 12 year hell but I am thankful for this major outcome…I am able to spot an abusive person when I see one and for this reason I will never be able to give 45 a chance in hell. I don’t care for his bully tactics and the gaslighting by the administration as a whole. Continue reading