Tag Archives: body image

Getting “Beach Ready”

This Thursday morning I take off for a four-day trip to Mexico to watch one of my closest friends, Rachel, marry the love of her life. And just like my last warm-weather-vacation, I’ve spent the weeks leading up to this one worrying about the whole bikini thing. But unlike my last vacation, which took place in March, I’m bombarded with the “get-beach-body-ready” messages that are so common this time of year. (Oh, and I’m pretty sure I weigh a few pounds more than I did on that last trip.)

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Trade Em Up Tuesday: Back from ACK

Just wanted to say a quick thank you for your support in response to recovery the Instagram I shared this morning. Your support helps me keep on keepin’ on!

Man, it’s good to be back in Boston. I had fun Friday and Saturday in Nantucket for the Nantucket Wine Festival, but when I woke up Sunday I was so happy that I had an early ferry booked. I wanted to get back home and back to reality! So as you can imagine, I have a few trades for Trade Em Up Tuesday.

I would AND wouldn’t trade…barely having any photos to share from the weekend. I did a lot of Snap story updating, but plain old pictures weren’t really something I was feeling. The would trade is the fact that I continue to have a lot of body image issues when it comes to photos. It probably doesn’t seem like it since I post what many consider to be a lot of pictures, but I probably delete about 10 for every 1 that I like. And taking that many photos would have been exhausting, so I just kind of gave up. I even posted one photo that bothered me so much after the fact that I ended up taking it down. It just wasn’t worth trying to “fake it” at that point.

Comfy roomy dress on point for day one.

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Very Thoughtful Thursday

I’m coming off of a rough few weeks as some of you may know, and also a very productive therapy session, so I have some reflections that I want to share on this Thinking Out Loud Thursday.

Link up with Amanda today no matter how deep your thoughts!

I seem to re-learn this lesson time and time again, but I think having strict rules has been backfiring on me. I decided after I got back from Florida that I was going to cut down on drinking by not having any wine on nights I stayed in – even on nights I wanted to. I also decided to really focus on keeping my eats at home “cleaner”. Well, this has not worked very well, because now on nights I am out I have found myself really overdoing it. And that’s been resulting in mental consequences far greater than any I’d be having if I was enjoying a glass of wine or two at home when I wanted to. Perfect example – Monday night I was snowed in and really wanted a glass of red. I couldn’t stop thinking about it! But I texted some friends, made plans to go out to eat the next night, and told myself THEN I could have a drink.

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The Kind Voice

I’m coming off of a mentally tough weekend and felt compelled to write about and reflect on something that often comes up during my therapy sessions. Each therapist I’ve ever had asks me if I picture the voice in my head, the eating disorder voice, in any certain way. Is it a male, or female voice? Do I even picture a person attached to the voice? Does it have a name? I don’t picture a person attached to the voice, nor do I know if it’s male or female. And I’ve never been able to get behind the whole “Call it ED!” thing. Giving the voice the name of a human is helpful for some when talking back, but not to me.

I would honestly just describe the voice as mean, harsh, and strict. It’s controlling and a perfectionist. I find that when I talk back to it, I try to employ another voice that is just the opposite – the kind voice. Lately I’ve realized it’s helpful for me to re-frame shoulds and can’ts as suggestions or ponderings, in that nicer voice. See, I have feared in the past fighting the eating disorder’s voice, because my all-or-nothing mindset told me that would be mean giving up caring about what I put into my body, if I work out, whether or not I gain a bunch of weight. My therapist has been trying to get me to practice encouraging myself to keep caring about myself and treating myself well, but in a nicer way. Some examples…

Eating Disorder Voice: You absolutely should not have another drink. You keep complaining about your body, well this is why you don’t like it. Alcohol just piles on the fat. You’re just going to keep gaining weight if you keep on this way.

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New Year, New Trades

Hope you guys found yesterday’s sponsored post at least semi-relevant. Living in Boston means a tighter budget, and living in Boston in the winter means taking ALL of the Ubers. So bear with me while I try to fund said Ubers with some paid opportunities.

Also must continue to fund my cocktail habit…mine (on the left) is a bellini from Five Horses Tavern, made with Four Roses Bourbon and local balsamic! Don’t be fooled by the rock candy, this was not sweet.

And here I am today with a “real” post, in the form of Trade Em Up Tuesday. This isn’t about what I want to trade or not trade in the New Year. Rather, it’s just my first Trade Em Up Tuesday post of the New Year.

I would not trade…some successful recipes cooked at homeI’m continuing my quest to make some delicious dishes from my Pinterest boards and it’s mostly going great. A few hiccups here and there as I learn some cooking-related lessons, but that’s what living in my first apartment is all about.

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Five Pounds

You may recall the “incident” when I went to a new doctor in Boston in mid-May, and peeked at my weight. I felt relieved at that time, because it wasn’t as high as my catastrophic-thinking-mind had thought it’d be.

Now a little less than four months later it was time to go back to the doctor yesterday morning and check in. And as much as I tried not to look at the scale, I caught a glimpse of my weight on the computer screen after the physician’s assistant had typed it in – and I felt my heart drop into my stomach.

Five pounds. That is how much higher the weight was, after a little less than four months.

The doctor came in and, while looking over my vitals, commented that my weight looked good. I gave a little snort and she looked at me inquisitively. I said I didn’t feel that it looked that good and she said to me, “Well, you gained weight. Now you’re at the low end of normal BMI. And to be honest, you look better now than you did when I first saw you.”

But I didn’t really care about any of that and none of it made me feel better. The thoughts in my mind told me that the best looking people are not a normal BMI, they are a lower BMI. They have less body fat than what is “healthy”. It’s often hard for me to take compliments that I look “better” or “healthy” or “good” because to me that just screams “NOT SKINNY”.

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Wouldn’t It Be Nice…

I made marvelous memories this past weekend but I also spent much of it in a negative funk with too much focus on body image, guilt, fear, comparison traps, and myself in general. The idea for this post popped up in my head yesterday I was taking a walk after the gym and feeling bad for leaving Zumba class halfway through because it was causing lots of pain in my shin.

Because, wouldn’t it be nice…

…if rest could be viewed as a component of a workout/training plan, and not a break from it?

…if putting on pants wasn’t something that needed to be preceded by a pep talk?



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Trade Em Up Tuesday: Because It’s Not Monday

I tend to recap my weekends in the form of Marvelous In My Monday, but I didn’t feel like blogging Sunday night and yesterday was too busy. So since it’s Tuesday, this weekend recap is coming to you in the form of Trade ‘Em Up Tuesday, which I haven’t done in awhile (holy – since before I had my new job!) anyway.

I would not trade…the Friday night that I really needed. As I mentioned in Friday’s post, I felt like a big whale all day thanks to a looooong wine tasting and dinner for work the previous night. What kept me going all day was the knowledge that I’d be able to spend my evening with great people! First I met Jen at Eastern Standard for her first visit there (!!!) and we enjoyed some relaxing girl time over drinks and yummy food. Thankfully Jen agreed that the restaurant lived up to my hype and it was another nice visit of great service and spot-on cocktail recs!

My first drink – the Red Hook – a Manhattan-like cocktail. I took a sip and said “ahhh”.

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What I’m “Allowed”

This is a post that’s been weighing on the back of my mind for awhile now and on the front of my mind the entire Memorial Day weekend. I’m still struggling with recovery and what it means in terms of what I’m “allowed” to feel about my body, or what I’m “allowed” to do about my body if my feelings about it are not so favorable. I continue to have great weekends and attend fun events in Boston – and when I go home! I continue to do a pretty good job of not depriving myself. But I also continue to feel as if my body is changing in ways I strongly dislike (dare I say hate), as a result of all that lack of deprivation. I feel like my lack of deprivation is actually overdoing it. I feel as if I’m on the opposite end of the spectrum now, and my body shows it. I feel so uncomfortable in my own skin. I feel gross. I feel disgusting. Last night I met up with Jen for a patio drink to conclude our holiday weekend, and I wore a dress I purchased back on Black Friday 2011. It felt so tight on me, and I felt like I was busting out of it. I felt self-conscious and wished I was wearing something more bag-like. I kept mentally pulling up in my mind photos of me in the same dress when I wore it in Orlando in March 2012, or at the Mohegan Sun BrewFest later that same year.

Before dinner with my parents, in Orlando.

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I Peeked

I’ve told my scale story in the past. I haven’t had any plans to step on a scale in quite awhile. I haven’t even felt tempted. But last week during a visit to the doctor, after I stepped on the scale backwards and asked the nurse not to tell me my weight, I began to wonder. And once we got to the examination room and she set the clipboard down, I couldn’t resist a sudden urge to look over at the paper where she’d written down my weight. And I peeked.

So I saw how much I weighed, and I actually breathed a sigh of relief. Because in my mind, since I’ve been feeling as if I go out too often and don’t work out enough, I felt sure that I’d gained a significant amount of weight. I often find myself hating the way my pants feel, and without a scale in my life, that’s been my personal measure of body change. But the number I saw wasn’t as high as I’d assumed it’d be. And that made me happy.

Today’s shorts – I used to absolutely need a belt with these (last summer) but now I can get away with not wearing one. I’ve definitely noticed.

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