Bravery.

Hey y’all. How are you?

Listen, today is about mental health, just FYI. And while you’re reading, you may be asking yourself, “Why does she share this personal information on here?” Here’s why, because we still seem to live in a world where mental illness is viewed as something to keep quiet about. I have always been very loud about my issues. Why? Because if it makes one person…just ONE... feel like they aren’t alone, then I’m happy and it was worth it. It was so worth putting myself out there saying, “HEY. I’M CRAZY TOO, IT’S TOTALLY FINE.”

So let’s talk about bravery. I like to think of myself as a pretty brave person. I have a whole testimony of being brave, at least I think so. (Maybe when I write that book one day you’ll hear it all. Or you know, just ask me.) Heck, I even have the word “courage” tattooed on my left foot. Not trying to toot my own horn here, y’all, but I’m still alive today… so I count that as brave. I love those people who get the semicolon tattoo, that’s my favorite. I need one of those. (Don’t know why people get those? Click here.) I could have ended my life with so many obstacles life threw at me, but I didn’t. And that’s brave. I’m not saying I didn’t try, I did. Thank the Lord I didn’t succeed. Failure is a good thing in some moments.

At 15 I started seeing a therapist. At 16 I tried to commit suicide, failed, and checked MYSELF into a mental facility. (I’m super open about this, obviously.) I took a thousand different combinations of depression/anxiety meds for 10 years and saw a variety of different therapists that never quite fit. And then I quit.

I just… quit. I was so over it. I was so done not feeling things, not dealing with life. I could never find that “sweet spot” of meds that would work. I had horrible reactions to a lot of them. One heightened my anxiety more than ever and I had a giant panic attack in my friend’s car on the way home from school, then in my front yard to the point of completely passing out. (I’m still friends with her today, Hi Stef! Thanks for loving me through all that.) Another made me break out in a rash, another made me so sick even after the point of time your body is supposed to be passed that, another made me physically unable to cry. I COULDN’T CRY, YOU GUYS. SERIOUSLY. I’d feel that lump in my throat, I’d think horrible things… still nothing. I COULDN’T CRY. It was awful. I did finally get on one that was okay enough and I just dealt with it.

Then I got married and we wanted to have a baby. I didn’t want to be on meds while pregnant, that can be so dangerous, so I stopped. (You all know how that story goes… no pregnancy.) But I stayed off. I stayed off of meds through that entire infertility season of my life (you know, the one I’m still in.) We adopted. I stayed off. I had surgery, causing my eating disorder and anxiety to get worse. I stayed off. My mom died. I stayed off. I dealt with picking my kid up from school every day and breaking into tears with every pick up because I had to find out what horrible behavior my child decided to conduct that day. I stayed off.

I just… can’t anymore.

You see, I stayed off because I thought I was being brave. I was dealing with it and I was being so brave doing it all on my own. But then I realized…. That’s not bravery. Bravery is admitting that I can’t do this on my own. (Oh hey, story of my life.) Bravery is saying that the world feels like it’s closing in on me and OMG PLEASE JUST GIVE ME THE GOOD MEDS. Right? Right. At least to me that’s bravery.

So this isn’t to pat myself on the back and tell you all what an amazing person I am (even though I am, duh), but instead for someone who needs to see this to realize that they don’t have to be the other kind of brave anymore. You can be another kind of brave. You can be my kind of brave and it’s totally okay. And if that isn’t your definition of brave, then that’s okay too. And if you aren’t dealing with any of this, but wanted a real glimpse into who I am, well then there you go. Hope you love me through it.

And please forgive me. Forgive me for not answering your phone calls because it was just too hard that day, forgive me for cancelling plans on you, forgive me for making a thousand excuses, forgive me for being a flake. Forgive me for not answering “I’m great!” to “How are you?”, Forgive me for just being tired all the time, and please forgive me for the journey I’m about to embark on as all my emotions get out of whack. And if you’re a praying person, pray that I finally find that sweet spot. The one that still lets me be me, but also lets me deal with all of y’all a little better… y’all are awful. (just kidding… kind of.)

xo

Tabitha

(Feel free to share this if you feel compelled, seriously. Maybe someone who needs to will see it. J)

One Year.

A year ago today I anxiously awaited my very first surgery. I had never had one before and I was so terrified that something bad was going to happen.... then they gave me the good drugs and I didn't care anymore, I was ready to go. haha jk.... kinda.

As I've stated in all my surgery related blogs, this surgery journey was years in the making for me. When I first found out I was infertile 5 years ago (omg 5 years???) the doctor practically begged me to have weight loss surgery. I was very opposed to the idea, I didn't want to wait the required 6 months of pre-op diet and year post-surgery to try to have a baby. I wanted a baby NOW. Well, joke was on me because I didn't end up getting that baby. (Which now I see was 100% a good thing. How dangerous and selfish of me to try to have a baby when I was 400 pounds.) So I fought the idea of having surgery. "I can do it on my own." And I did, a little. But then I gained it back. And then I gained more back... and I felt like a failure. But then I noticed that God started putting women in my life who had had the surgery, and I gave in. I stopped fighting. I decided to give my stubborn ways a rest and do what God obviously had intended for me to do. I had the surgery.

My surgery went great, smooth. I healed quickly and despite a rough patch of having a hard time keeping food down, I made it through easily and created a whole new, healthy life for myself. The weight fell off of me so easily. At my 6 month mark, I hit a bump. I got cocky. I started allowing myself to "cheat" and the weight loss slowed down BIG TIME. And so I beat myself up about it, I got depressed, my anxiety sky rocketed. Everyone kept complimenting me and telling me how amazing I was, and I felt guilty. I felt undeserving of their praise. And so I'd beat myself up about that too. Told myself I was a liar and that I was letting people think I was amazing, when in fact I was a failure.

And then the months close to my one year anniversary started inching closer. I knew at the one year mark Charles and I could start trying to have a baby again... so I started self-sabotaging. I became so controlled by my anxiety, I began binge eating. I would make myself so sick and then berate myself about it. I'd tell myself what a failure I was and I would cry. I would cry in my bathroom, I'd cry in restaurants, I'd cry in HEB. Why? Because that meant the day was coming that I was actually going to find out if I'd ever get to have a baby. What if I did all this and still didn't get to be pregnant some day? (Guys, please don't comment on the fact that I adopted a beautiful boy. I know I did, I cherish him so much, seriously. Doesn't change what every fiber of my being craves. And yes, I'm aware that without a pregnancy, I am still so much healthier, I know.)

So I got professional help in the form of my amazing therapist. Y'all, I've probably seen 6 therapists in my life, ones I never felt like helped me. I'd stop going because I felt like I was exhausting them, that they were sick of hearing about all my ridiculous problems and I was bothering them. More lies I'd tell myself, feelings of unworthiness and self hatred. But this one... he's awesome. I anxiously await my next appointments. And he helped me understand that I have an eating disorder. So I'm working on that. It's something I've obviously always known in the back of my mind, but never really took it as the serious thing it is.

Then my mom died.

I gained about 10 pounds back. I gained those pounds back so quickly. I looked like I was handling things super well on the outside, but alone I would eat. I would make myself sick and I would cry.

And then I had my one year appointment yesterday. They praised me for all I'd done. Told me it was ridiculous to beat myself up for gaining weight when my mother had died. That it's normal, that it's okay, and that tomorrow is another day. And if it takes 30 more tomorrows to get back on track, then I try again the next tomorrow until that tomorrow is the final one. The one where I pick up all my pieces and I get back on track.

It wasn't a perfect year, it was hard, but it was an amazing one too. It was one where I got to do a million things I never got to do before. I got to buy clothes in regular sizes, I got to sit in chairs without worrying if I would fit or break them, I got to experience my baby boy wrap his arms AND legs around me, I got to put together furniture on the floor, I got to play on inflatable bounce houses with my kid, the list goes on... Most importantly, I survived. I took my life back. I know for a fact I'd be over 400 pounds by now if I hadn't. It was a year where I got to learn things about myself, some things weren't great things I wanted to learn, and I lost the woman who made me the way I am.

This next year is a scary and exciting one. It's one where Charles and I do the fertility stuff again. It's one where we get that final yes or no. But something tells me that no matter that answer, we'll survive that too.

Oh and all that failure stuff? The parts where I feel unworthy of praise, unworthy of love (especially from myself)... I'm working on that. And sorry, parents, I got another tattoo today in honor of my anniversary. One to remind me every minute of every day that I am worthy. I'm so worthy of all of those things and more. Do I fully believe that yet? No. That doesn't come in a day, it's 30 years worth of people making me feel unworthy and telling myself I was unworthy to undo, but it can and will be done. Be patient with me on that.

Thank you all for reading these long, emotional updates. Thank you all for giving me praise when I needed it, for making me feel like I wasn't a complete failure when I was telling myself I was, seriously. You all are so much a part of this, more than you know.

xo

Aftermath pt.2 and Creativity!

Wow, you guys. HI! Welcome back... or welcome here for the first time. <3

It's been a month since I posted the emotional look into my post-surgery life and it has been amazing. Not, amazing because all my problems went away, but amazing in the fact that I have been approached by so many of you who read it. I got personal messages, hugs, tears, and praise beyond belief. Thank you guys, thank you.

I noticed that everyone who approached me called me strong and brave. Thank you. Thank you so much. I do know that I have the amazing power to be strong and brave. I don't always remember that, but deep down, I do know it. And I do want to clarify the reason I wrote the post... I honestly wasn't even thinking about me and what I was doing. I wrote it because prior to it, people would approach me and say things like, "You're doing so amazing! I'm so horrible at losing weight" or "Ugh, I am just doing awful at this, and you're doing so great! You're amazing!". And you know what? I immediately thought of how I feel when those mom's (you know those kind) who post pictures of themselves with their kids all in matching pajamas on a Saturday morning eating cookies and watching movies or making crafts and everyone is smiling and happy at noon. And my child is SCREAMING and throwing tantrums and saying "YOU BE QUIET, MOMMY!" And I'm like, wow. I'm failing at motherhood. These women have figured this out with their perfect little people, and my child was awoken by the devil, himself this morning. And by noon it's taking everything in me to not to leave him on the neighbor's doorstep. And I suddenly got a rush of guilt thinking, "Am I making other people feel like failures?" And I never ever want to make anyone feel less than. So I wanted to make sure we were all on the same page. Also, if you're a mom like that, I know you don't mean to make anyone feel like that either. I'm fully, 100% aware that it is my wacky brain that thinks that way! Go about your happy life, truly. Enjoy those moments and cherish them. I have them too. I've been known to post a picture of my child happily baking cookies ... right before he spits on one of them. I'll spare you a picture of that part though. You're welcome.

You are all amazing men and women. Failure is human, and trying again and again is brave and strong.

ON ANOTHER NOTE:

I finally finally finally have my own space in this house. Hubs has the garage, the yard, the giant shed... the bathroom? I don't know, men spend a lot of time in there... Little Boy has his room AND a playroom. And I had no where set up for me. (don't say the kitchen, you jerks) What was supposed to be my office/craft area/writing space has been filled with boxes and no desk until a few days ago.

I finally got a desk. I finally set up my office. I finally have my own space. And let me tell you, the creativity is flowing. If you know something about me, let it be known that I have dreamed of writing a book for as long as I can remember. As a child, I used to fill notebook upon notebook of short stories, journals, poems, crap. (I don't have any of them. ANY OF THEM. Tragic, I know.) As an adult I've longed to be brave enough to write a collection of essays as a memoir of my adult life. Stories of finding love (that was a hot mess), infertility, adoption and so forth. Funny and tragic and therapeutic. Oh how I long for that. And where I was blaming the lack of actually doing that on not having a creative space, I know that deep down it's because I'm terrified of rejection. I haven't mastered bravery in that area. You see, I can bare all, no problem, on a blog. But publishers? Actual readers? That's scary. But anyways, I feel the fire burning. I'll do it you guys. I'll do it and it'll be written right here:

hopefully with a more comfortable chair

So, hopefully some day you'll get to read that, to buy it and share it with all your friends and give me all your money. Sound good?

Also,
Possible book name: Hot Mess: How I haven't murdered everyone I know and eaten all the Blue Bell ice cream in Texas on a Tuesday night.

No?

Fine, I'll work on it.

<3 Tabitha

The Aftermath.

Ohhhh wow. This is awkward. Has it really been 7 months since I've updated this blog? 8 months since my surgery? I'm pretty disappointed in myself. Ah, well. Here we go again.

I'm not going to pretend that I don't know why I haven't been blogging. I know why. The excuse I could give you, is that I turned 30 and then we bought our very first home and I've been so busy with that. But, let's be real people, my anxiety forced me to be unpacked and ready to go a week or two after moving in. And being 30 isn't any different than being 29. You know, other than that old woman grunt I do when I get out of bed now.

No... I haven't been blogging because I don't want to tell truths. And I made a promise that I'd never put on a show here, or sugar-coat anything. If you know me, even a little, you know that I'm an open book. I'm not afraid to share my struggles, my experiences. And lately I've felt a strong pull to blog. So, time to own up.

I've mentioned before, that prior to this surgery, I viewed it as being a 'cop-out', the 'easy way out'. But, I am now very remorseful for ever thinking that way. It's so hard. Not any of this has been easy. Well, I mean, losing weight was easy at first, as long as I followed the rules. I lost weight when I stayed 100% on task. I lost weight when I cheated a little. I lost weight when I took an extra stroll around the local Wal-Mart. But then around the third month it slowed down, which is normal. I still lose, just not as fast.

But then I discovered that eating "naughty" things didn't hurt me like I thought they would. It all went to hell at Easter (funny). Those Cadbury Eggs really did it to me. I ate one and nothing happened. So I ate two....and then three.... and then my stomach would hurt. So I learned that one or two didn't hurt my stomach. So I'd eat that many. Every day. And then the weight loss stopped. And I mentally beat myself up. The same thing happened with bread. I discovered how much I could eat without making my stomach hurt. And again, no more weight loss. And the mental beatings get worse.

So do you know what I do? I upload pictures of myself to Facebook. Not because I feel fantastic, but because I want people to tell me that I look fantastic. I need my ego boost. But then I feel guilty. I feel guilty for putting on a show, for making people believe I'm something I'm not. I hate that.

Now, let me explain that part. I am happy. Oh, I'm so happy. I am currently smaller than I ever was in high school. Isn't that insane? I am currently at a weight and body shape that I have literally no memory of ever being at. That is a weirdly amazing feeling. No one reading this blog as ever known me at this size. I promise you have no memory of it. Because I skipped it. I gained 100 pounds in less than 10 months when I was a Junior in high school. There are some pictures I now see of myself that I can't stop staring at. Like this one:

Is that BOTH of my shoulders in one frame? Yeah. Yeah it is.

And so I upload a picture like that, and everyone praises me and I get 100's of likes and everyone thinks it's all fantastic. And yes, I look very pretty. But I don't post the other parts of that. Like, the parts where I literally cry over food I know I can't eat. Or I cry when I shove so much food in my mouth that I make my stomach hurt, because it's an addiction that I still can't fully break. The surgery only changed my physical self. It did not change my mental self. That I'm still working on every single day. The parts where I still go into stores and feel crazy uncomfortable in the "normal" sizes. Like I don't belong, or know how to function. Or how if I'm around another overweight person, I feel an extreme rush of guilt. Like I somehow cheated and am living a life I didn't deserve, I should still be suffering. Because Mental-Tabitha is still that person, how dare she not look like her anymore. I also get an extreme rush of guilt when I leave food on my plate. Like I'm being wasteful. And then I start to long and mourn the food left over. I can't explain why. It's how my brain works.

Note: I am not saying that everyone with the surgery struggles the same way. That's what 20 years of being overweight will do, you guys.

I cry as I write this blog. Because I know I'm about to post it for all my family and friends. Because I'm afraid of you knowing the truth, because I think you'll feel differently towards me, or think I'm not as strong or brave anymore. But I write these blogs because I want to educate people. Just like when I used to blog about my infertility. It's real. Everyone needs some real.

I am strong, I am happy. I don't regret a moment of this journey. But I'm still a work in progress.

And I do relish in the fun stuff:

Like, I can now sit in ONE theater chair next to my husband at the movies, instead of two.
I can buy clothes at stores without even having to try most of them on first.
I could now ride a roller coaster if I wanted to. (NO.)
I don't even have to think about weight limits on things anymore.
I can workout and hardly break a sweat anymore, instead of how I used to break a sweat just walking into the gym.
I can borrow clothes from friends. Did you read that? I CAN BORROW PEOPLE'S CLOTHES FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE.

There are so many exciting things to come in my life. If I didn't have this surgery, who knows how far past 400 pounds I would have gotten. Now I'm only 25 pounds away from having a 1 in front of my weight. A ONE.

I hope I didn't scare you all off, or make you all think I'm having some sort of breakdown. I'm not. I promise. I'm just telling you the truth.

Much love.
Tabitha

One Month

I had my one month check up yesterday! Did you know that I've lost 90 total pounds? (40 since my surgery). And it has been quite the month.

It wasn't easy. At all. In fact, I spent most of it crying and feeling like everything was falling apart. I felt like I was making everything harder on everyone and I threw up... a lot. I cried and mourned for the food I wasn't able to eat, and I felt ridiculous doing it. It's amazing how much control food has over me. I literally spend every minute thinking about it.

I remember talking to this one guy at the gym who helps me out with my workouts sometimes. His wife has the sleeve surgery and he told me, "A lot of times my wife forgets to eat!" And as I sit here and think of that, I am jealous. Because I spend every minute thinking of when I'm next allowed to eat.

Now, I'm not always hungry - so I don't eat. I just sit and wonder when my stomach will feel hungry again so I can eat. Insane, I know. I'm aware. This is definitely a journey, and a difficult one.

But, at my appointment - I was given permission to start advancing my diet to how I will be eating for the rest of my life. Lean proteins, then veggies, then if there's room in my tummy left - up to 1/2 cup of fruit.

Can you guess the first question I asked? "Will I be able to have a bite of pie at Thanksgiving and Christmas?"

Answer? Yes. A BITE. haha I'll take it!

My clothes are falling off of me, which is a wonderful problem to have. (until you realize you have to go in public to buy new clothes - and so you look like a wacko while you shop! haha!) In a few more pounds, I'll weigh less than I have since I've been married.

I'm going to get there, you guys. I just know it. I'm determined to get back to a normal way of life, a healthy way of life. It will happen. I've got to stay positive. Thanks for your prayers and constant kind words whenever you guys talk to me! Y'all are a blessing. And thanks for following my journey. <3

Tab

Post-Surgery Update!

Hey Y'all! Welcome back.

Wow, how things have changed since my post in April. In fact, since that post in April, I've lost 70 pounds. SEVENTY. I also had my gastric bypass surgery on September 30th!

I have to be honest, I used to be one of those people who thought that people who had weight loss surgery were insane. I even viewed it as "cheating" or "taking the easy way out". For that, I apologize to the world and those who have had it. I was so very, very, very wrong. This is one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. Prior to having my surgery, I was required by my insurance to have 6 months of a doctor supervised diet. I was so annoyed by that, because I was just ready to get this over with. I've been dieting for a million years, I've tried everything. But now, I am so thankful that I was required to do that. It gave me time to mentally prepare and physically prepare. I lost 55 pounds. It was a long battle with food. A battle I have been fighting most of my life. Trying to mentally let go of the addiction. Something I still haven't been able to let go of. Let me explain.

I had my surgery and was so blessed by so much support from family and friends. I left the hospital in so much pain, but so ready to get this new life started. My wonderful mother stepped up and watched my munchkin and waited on me hand and foot (she even gave me back massages!). The only problem? She still had to eat. My kiddo still had to eat. My husband still had to eat. I could not eat. Nothing. I was on an all liquid, zero calorie diet. (minus the ridiculously disgusting chicken broth I was allowed. barf.) And even though I had literally NO hunger, I cried. I cried because I was stressed, I was in pain, and I couldn't do the one thing I use to comfort myself - eat.

You see, the surgery doesn't change your mind. It only changes your physical insides. The mental battle doesn't end. That, you have to do yourself.

Don't get me wrong here. I am SO HAPPY I had the surgery. I've already lost 15 pounds. I've been forced to get up and move and do things to get my mind off of food. So guess what you guys, my house is clean. SHOCK ME, SHOCK ME, SHOCK ME. (Empire Records? No? Just me?)

This is going to be a long road, but I am so thankful that I had a successful surgery and that I'm healing really well so far. I know that my life is going to drastically change this next year and I know for a fact that I will not be 300 pounds when I turn 30 in January.

I hope you guys follow me on this journey. And I hope you're down for the good and the bad that comes with it. I have never sugar-coated anything on this blog. Oh also, You'll see that I changed the name. Bare with me as I try to find something that really really suits me. So far I'm really liking it.

So here we go:

Starting weight: 391 

Surgery weight: 335

Current weight: 319

Adios for now, y'all!
Tab

The Journey is never ending.

I can never seem to keep a blog going. I start to fail, or I get tired of hearing my voice say the same old thing all the time, so I quit. I lose motivation, I lose creativity, I lose an outlet for myself to write. And that makes me sad.

I think one of things I do, is I try to make it super public, and I want to share with everyone in their mother. Because, obviously everything I have to say is extremely important, you guys. But here's the thing, that means I'm not writing for me anymore. I'm writing for everyone else and what I think they might like to read. That's wrong. I should be writing for me, I should be making this my creative outlet and if it spreads to more readers, then so be it. But right now, this is for me.

Maybe some of you are still following me. If so, that's awesome. Thank you so much! I am excited to catch you up on what has been going on in my life...because it's been a lot. But first, I want you to know that I'm writing to let it all out for myself. Sometimes it's going to be wildly happy, and sometimes it's going to be wildly depressing. And I don't care if that bothers you. This is my journey, and I'm taking control of it again. (even though I totally still love you).

So what's up with me?

Well, I've decided to have the gastric bypass surgery done. Can you believe it? Man, the journey to saying that has been a long one. I actually started thinking about having surgery right after we found out we were infertile a few years ago. I went to a conference once about all the surgeries offered and I freaked out when they said, "We don't recommend that you try to have a baby until a year or two after the surgery." And I was like, "SCREW YOU GUYS, I'M HAVING A BABY WHEN I DAMN WELL PLEASE." .....yet here I am. No baby of my own...so I should have just gotten the damn surgery. Except...no I shouldn't have, really, because I wasn't mentally ready.

I'm mentally ready now. It's no longer about a baby. I have my own, wonderfully adopted, handsome little boy. Now it's about the fact that at my first doctor appointment with the surgeon, I stepped on the scale and it said 391 pounds. It's about the fact that I'd like to be around for that wonderfully obnoxious little 2 year old. If a baby comes from the surgery, man what a spectacular miracle, but that's not the important goal here. My life is.

So you know how I said that my first weigh in was 391? Well, my insurance requires me to do a doctor supervised diet 6 months prior to having the surgery. Today was my first month's weigh in.

I lost 17 pounds.

SEVENTEEN!

I am so beyond proud of myself, I feel amazing and confident in my ability to really do this! And I'm so exited that a year from now, that 17 could be a triple digit number.

The journey is on, people. Party on, Wayne!

Lent & Recipes!

Hey Guys! You're getting an extra post this week - in honor of Lent! Lucky you. (And hopefully you didn't give up reading my blog as part of that....awkward.)

Anyways, if you're not familiar - Catholics, and (most? some?) Christians give up something for the Lent period. What I have been taught, is that it is supposed to be something that has steered you away from God, something you're putting before God. I know, these days, a lot of people give up social media, like Facebook. My husband and I have recognized that we put food as the main focus in our house. To some, that may sound ridiculous, to us - it's truly an addiction and something that takes over our lives. We rarely ever tithe (something I'm not proud of), because we "don't have money to spare". When in reality, we spent hundreds on eating out at restaurants and fast food establishments.

So, instead of wasting that money - we are tithing it. And we are eating at home for the entire Lent season. This is truly going to be a challenge, because honestly I hate cooking. But! I can cook and I will cook for this reason.

So here is where I need YOUR help! I need recipes! I have tons, sure, but I need change and I need ones people have actually tried before and loved. I always "pin" recipes that claim to be the best recipe on Earth, and then no one in my house loves it. If you do share a recipe that falls under the list of things I'll eat (I'm weirdly picky) - I'll share the result with you on the blog!

I'm excited, people! Share away!

Oh, you totally wanted to know.

Woah. Did I really miss TWO Fridays? That seems insane! I'm sorry!

Well, while I was "gone", I lost 4 pounds! However, I will tell you - this is going soooo much slower than the last time I lost weight. The last time, I lost 6 pounds the first week! And then every week after that was at least 1-2 pounds. I know, I know, losing 4 pounds is better than nothing, trust me - I'm not complaining. I just need to step it up! Because, truthfully, I haven't really been trying. I've done a few active things and eaten a little better, but nothing of real effort.

Anyways, my creative juices haven't really been flowing (hence the lack of blog posts). But I want to force myself to still write, even when I don't feel like it. So please, stick with me here. I'm going to take this opportunity for you, my wonderful readers, to get to know me better. (And if you have a blog, I encourage you to do the same!)

I gathered these questions from quite a few blogs - I just picked my favorite questions, because I can.

Are you named after anyone? Yes. Tabitha from Bewitched. My mother will tell you it was from the Bible (Acts 9:36) but she's a liar! She totally named me after that darn kid witch. And I spent most of my childhood saying, "NO! I CAN'T WIGGLE MY NOSE!"

What's your favorite color? Orange! All shades of orange really. People assume it's because I'm a big Texas Longhorn fan, but it truly isn't. I even actually more prefer a BRIGHT orange!

Do you have a favorite movie? Ooooooh yes. It's the Rocky Horror Picture Show. It's a ridiculously wonderfully awful movie. And I love it more than I should. And I love Tim Curry. *sigh* If you want a more appropriate answer - my second favorite movie is Empire Records.

What do you want to be when you grow up? Can I say Tina Fey? Is that an answer? I want to be her. But mostly, I actually have always really wanted to be a writer. My dream is to write a book. I start it often, I have a notebook of random entries into this book. Now if only I could force myself to take time to write it. My dreams would come true.

What's your biggest pet peeve? OOOOOOHHHH don't get me started. I have way more than one huge pet peeve. But, the first one that comes to mind is when I'm in a large public bathroom, by myself, and someone comes in and sits in the stall RIGHT NEXT TO ME. Man that brings out a weird rage in me.

How about a favorite book? Running With Scissors by Augusten Burroughs. It's the only book I've ever read more than once, on purpose. I've read it five times actually. It's my favorite kind of book, a memoir. I actually love all his books, but that one is my favorite. A college professor at UTSA actually recommended it to me. I even got to meet Augusten Burroughs once!

oh...look at me wearing a Rocky Horror shirt. HAHA

Mac or PC?  PC, happily.

Do you have a favorite song? Oh yes. The Way You Make Me Feel - Michael Jackson

What's your favorite blog? I'd like to say it's something wonderfully profound, but it's CakeWrecks. HAHA. They crack me up. (And my friend Alyssa's blog - because her brain works like mine and she's an all around wonderful lady. And now she owes me ice cream or something for plugging that in there. Right? RIGHT? Let's see if she reads this and agrees.)

What's your obsession? Friends. The TV show Friends. Absolutely Friends. Oh it's unhealthy.


TELL ME ABOUT YOU! If you have a blog, (or if you don't - post in the comments!) copy and paste this and tell me things I might not know about you!



DID I MENTION I LOVE FRIENDS?

I choose happy.

Oh hello! Are you having an awesome Friday? I hope so.

You know, the world of weight loss can be a really scary, really upsetting, and a really lonely one. At least for me. It can feel like no one understands you and no one really cares. And then when you (read: me) sit and dwell on that feeling, the world comes crashing down around you. Because you know what? Even though you are doing what you need to do to lose the weight, the world is still going on around you. And you shouldn't miss out on the things that make you wonderfully happy, just because you (read: me) feel like you should punish yourself.

So what I mean is, I'm changing my attitude. And honestly, by choosing to focus on things that make me happy, I've actually been eating better, cooking my own food, and moving more. Funny how a simple attitude change can create a waterfall effect.

You know what makes me happy?

Open windows with sunlight shining in:

Open windows like mine make me want to clean my house, and a clean house makes my heart happy.

Shopping for greeting cards: 

I say this, because I just spent time in Walmart shopping for Valentine's cards to send to family members. I love opening every card and imagining them read it. I usually want a lot of room, so that I can write sweet things. <3

Bible Studies & Hot Chocolate:

Oh actually, this should have been on the list first. This is what is changing my life. I'm doing two Bible Studies a week (a women's one and a 20s & 30s group). And putting God first is changing it all. It's inspiring me to make better choices in my life, mostly with my attitude problem. Honestly, you know what I worry about? I worry that when people talk about me when I'm not around, they aren't saying great things. I want to live a life that makes people want to tell others how loving I am, how selfless I am, etc. And...considering I'm one of the most selfish people I know, I have some work to do. And also, who doesn't like hot chocolate on these crazy cold days?

Memoirs:

ooooooooooooooh how I love memoirs, real stories from people's lives, especially when they're funny. My favorite memoir is Running With Scissors by Augusten Burroughs. But after that it is Tina Fey's Bossypants and my current love is Yes Please by Amy Poehler. *sigh* I could go on for days.

I know this post was a little different from the normal. I could tell you a thousand things that make me smile. And maybe I'll do a post like this every once in a while to remind myself of all the wonderful little things in the world.

I hope you guys are inspired to start focusing on the happy more often.

MOVE IT.

Oh man, did I have a wake up call yesterday. One of my biggest fears is coming true. My child is picking up my bad habits, he's going down the same path. I swore that I would never let that happen when I had kids. I don't want them to have the same weight struggle, the same pain I have dealt with my entire life. Every time I walk into the kitchen (which is where a lot more things are for us, like our washer/dryer, access to the garage) he throws a tantrum for food. Unfortunately, it's because every time I go that way, I come back out with food. He expects food, all day. He also is starting to sit on the couch.... a lot. Like me. Like my husband. He throws fits when we drive past fast food. Oh man, that's the one I'm most ashamed of, he knows what fast food is from a distance.

So today, today I cooked all of our food. Today we went on not one walk, but two. Well, the second one was forced, but whatever.

First, we ate lunch and we went for a walk:

And let me tell you something, YES. We were totally those parents with our kid on a leash. And I don't, for one minute, judge myself. Because he is two and he's a psycho that runs off and hides in bushes. I know this, because I tried that. So if it means that my child gets off his booty and walks, then he's on a leash. Now, it was a nightmare, because he thought it was a blast to spin in a circle and get tangled up, BUT WHATEVER. But he was still moving. He walked a lot with us. Then I figured I could be a nice mommy and let him play:

Then, we came home, he took his nap and then we made dinner! And then our entire complex's power went out and he wasn't havin' any of that, so we went for another walk:

And oh how he loves to move. How he loves to explore and be outside. I never want him to lose that.

So, I vow to make an effort to move WITH my child every day at least once a day.

How do you move? Are you alone? Do you take someone with you? Are you trapped inside or exploring our world? No way you move is wrong. Just MOVE! If I can move, you can move.

GET UP! (after you read my blog and share with everyone you love, duh.)

So tell me, what's your plan to get moving?

I am so lazy.

In fact, I'm pretty positive I'm the laziest person I know (minus my dog, Wiggles). After spending a few days at my in-laws, I have realized how much I sit all day. My wonderful mother in law spends her days running around the house, serving us and doing all kinds of wonderful things for everyone. When she's not doing that, she's doing her exercises, or fixing herself something healthy to eat (she's lost over 100 pounds on Weight Watchers). And I realize, here I am. Sitting. Not doing anything. Not exercising, not fixing myself healthy food. Not doing anything for anyone, sitting. Maybe sometimes I'm sitting on the floor, playing Legos with my kiddo.

And I think to myself, that's sad. It is so sad that my child is spending all day with me, seeing me sit. This will be the norm in his mind. And that's not okay. Also, I need to get off my butt and exercise. I need to move. MOVE. It was so cold outside today, my MIL couldn't go on a walk like she usually does. Do you know what she did instead? She walked around the house. Seriously. Around the kitchen table, around the living room, down the hall. She walked, and she kept walking. My son followed behind.

I admire my MIL so much for that. She knows what she needs to do to achieve what she wants, and she does it. Sure she has days where she doesn't stick to the plan, but I am more than certain she has more motivated days than others. I know this, because I have seen this woman in action.

Outside of weight loss, she is still moving. She's cooking and doing crafts and she's serving. Oh what a wonderful servant's heart she has. She is the most giving and loving and serving woman I know. She is quite the woman to be admired. Such a Godly woman. A woman who has qualities that I would like to have. Not only do I want to be making my weight loss goals happen, I want to be a servant of God. I want someone to look at me the way I look at her sometimes. Like I am the image of what God would want me to be.

This post turned into a love letter to my MIL it seems, I don't even know if she reads this blog. But, that's not the point really.

Sometimes the change you need to make in yourself isn't just for weight loss, instead it's a change that will effect every move you make, to be for the better.

Forgiveness in 2015.

I have started this blog post a million times. Every time, it comes out down in the dumps and "poor me". And then I was thinking about my New Year Resolution: Forgiveness. Not only forgiving those that have hurt me, but forgiving myself for the way I treat myself.

So that being said, I forgive myself for not succeeding in weigh loss this year, as planned. I had a wild year, full of amazing things.

1. I had 4 foster children, total. Can you believe it? I HAD FOUR CHILDREN THIS YEAR! I was an emotional mess.

2. I adopted a little boy. A wonderful, gorgeous, loving little boy.

3. My munchkin turned TWO!

4. We celebrated our first holiday season as a family. <3

Sure, those are over-used excuses for gaining weight. But I forgive myself for using them. I'm moving on - I'm starting again (again).

So I have some plans for 2015:

1. Go to Weight Watchers every week. EVERY WEEK.

2. Do 30 minutes of activity every day. Even if it means just a walk around the park while my kid drags behind me.

3, Blog on Fridays. (Forgetting Fat Fridays!)

4. Put on make up and get dressed.- That one doesn't have to do with weight loss, but it has to do with feeling good about myself.

5. Forgive myself. I make mistakes, I'm human. I need to be forgiven. Everyone does.

My Comeback.

Today I sat outside of my local Weight Watchers trying very hard to convince myself to go inside. I even had the website pulled up on my phone, ready to push the 'cancel subscription' button. I'm so tired of starting over, constantly. I even posted on Facebook that I was trying very hard to inspire myself to go inside, and thanks to kind words from friends, I took my butt inside. And they gave me a sticker.

Very unfortunately, I weighed in at the highest weight I have ever been in my entire life. Oh how I fought back those tears. And when I left the meeting, I called my mother. And I cried uncontrollably. Then I called my husband, and I cried more uncontrollably.

Then I remembered something that helped me the first time I lost a bunch of weight. I took it one day at a time. One pound at a time. 

It's scary thinking about how far I have to go, how much weight I have to lose to get to a 'healthy' body weight. Two hundred pounds is the number, in case you were wondering. That kind of amount makes you just want to say "SCREW IT!" and give up. But I can't. I can't give up.

So I went to the gym.

And for today, I am back on track. 

And tomorrow, I will take that day as it comes to me. One day at a time.

That time I almost killed someone.

Okay, I never really almost killed anyone. (Unless you count that time I hit a guy at a crosswalk when I was 16. Calm down, I was only going 2 mph and he dramatically rolled up on my hood, then looked at me and laughed. MAYBE he shouldn't have ran in front of my car while it was moving. JUST SAYING.)

Anyways, the person I'm almost killing is me. I'm killing myself by remaining unhealthy. I know that. And I'm not proud of myself. Let me do some explaining.

You see, that first week of Paleo was great, y'all. I lost 10 pounds and I was feeling good. Except, I wasn't. You see, just because I'm eating healthy and losing weight, doesn't mean what's inside me feels great. And that's the part you don't see when you look at someone you find to be fat and obese. (for example, check out the work by Julia Kozerski [NSFW])

The first week, I hated most of the food. I was unhappy at every meal because I missed the flavors I'm used to and I would just cry over the change. This then transitioned into the second week of Paleo when I decided to do one of two things: I would either skip my meals - or I would cheat horribly. Which, of course, would then spark the inner voice telling me what an awful failure I am. And how I'm just letting not only myself, but everyone down.

You know, I wanted to start a weight loss blog and share my journey with you guys. But then when I start to do what I consider failing, I don't want to blog anymore because I feel like you guys don't want to hear that stuff. BUT then I remind myself why I actually did start this blog. I started it so that everyone has a glimpse of a REAL weight loss journey. A reminder that you really don't know everyone's journey and that it isn't as easy as "JUST DO IT", like several people I know seem to think it is.

The good news is that I've managed to keep off 6 of the 10 pounds I've lost.

So after much much much discussion with my husband we came to this conclusion: There is no fast track. There is nothing we can do- other than getting up every day, eat as healthy as we can and move. MOVE. We are still going to use Paleo as a base for our plan, but we aren't going to be so hard on ourselves. We are going to try to do some just basic gluten free stuff or hell, if we want a piece of cake, we are going to have one and we aren't going to kill ourselves over it. We are going to learn to eat ONE serving...instead of the 4 we eat every time we sit down. But mostly? We are going to take it one day at a time.

We can do this. We can all do this. But it takes much more than you think it does, so be positive and be supportive of each other. Don't allow negativity and don't allow people to sabotage you. Don't sabotage yourself. Most importantly? Breathe. Just breathe.

Paleo: Week One.

Oh....my...gaaahhhhhh

Week one is finished, you guys. That is the HARDEST thing I have ever done. My husband and I spent the whole week trying to talk ourselves out of doing this, and surprisingly didn't succeed in doing so. Especially since I hated most of the recipes I tried. (I'm a super picky eater AND I think my taste buds were like WTF IS THIS HEALTHY STUFF YOU'RE FEEDING US?) And I will be very honest and tell you I cried a few times. (I realize I sound super dramatic here, but I'm just being honest and if you're telling me that you can switch to Paleo and not morn the loss of how you used to eat, then you're awful and I hate you. *no, not really, that's the gluten-free talking*) We just need to keep trying new recipes and find ones that work for us!

Two of my favorite things were breakfast and "dessert".

Crustless Quiche and Bacon

Green smoothie "ice cream"

At the completion of our week, my husband and I had a movie date and we ate just a little bit of popcorn and ice cream and we both felt crazy sick after. That really showed me the stuff I used to put in my body every day. Scary really. It's like I could feel the nasty stuff flowing through and it was gross.

Now, I'm not going to tell you I'll follow Paleo 100%. I do loooooove dairy. So my husband and I agreed that we could have dairy once a week. As well as one sugar item. If we restrict ourselves from those things then I will start to hate eating this way and I will fail. Gluten-free is my main goal and as long as I always stick to that, I'm happy.

So are you curious how the weight loss went? (If you're my Facebook friend, then you already know.)

My husband lost 10 pounds and I lost....

11.

That's right, ELEVEN.

I'm so proud of us this week. For actually sticking with it, even when we were trying to talk each other out of it. I am excited to keep trying this! On to week 2....

Grocery Shopping Adventures with Tab!

I find a lot of things in the world ridiculous. Let me tell you about two of them.

1.) The price of healthy food. 

I know I'm not the only person to say this, but damn healthy food is expensive. That's ridiculous. I won't even tell you my grocery bill from doing my first week of Paleo shopping. I'm not gonna lie, I told my husband "I'd rather be fat and roll around in my money." (obviously I would rather not be fat, calm down)

It's sad that you can charge so much to eat the healthy stuff. How is that okay? No wonder we are all obese. A half gallon of ice cream is $4... same as a dozen of organic eggs. Tell me how that works. So I'll tell you the truth, I understand why people just buy the cheaper easier stuff. I don't blame you one bit.

Unfortunately, if I don't start eating the expensive, healthy stuff, I'll be on the next season of 'My 600-Pound Life'. I obviously can't handle my share of the cheap stuff.

oooohhhhh greeeeeennnn.

2.) How uncomfortable I was shopping for the healthy stuff.

Here's the thing, I was a "take that Name Brand Lasagna out of the fridge and throw that delicious crap in the oven and talk to me in an hour" kinda girl. I, of course, have been in the produce section before. I just, have never been in it to buy something other than some onions or bananas. I was overwhelmed and actually felt tears in my throat when I was trying to find all these new items (persimmon? fennel? WTF. Gimme a picture or something.) I, then, felt so embarrassed when I had to ask where stuff was. I felt fat and out of place. Like, if I would venture out of a fast food burger once in a while I would know where this crap is. Does that make sense? DO YA FEEL ME, Y'ALL?

Anyways, I just wanted to share those two things with you guys and let you know you're not alone if you feel this way too.

On the plus side, I am so excited to blog and tell you how my first week went! (Weigh in on Tuesday!)

I'm being set up....

Do you ever have little things happen to you that you can't help but think, "God is setting me up for something."? Let me tell you why I ask this:

My sweet husband and I have been really struggling with my infertility. We just can't seem to get past it and it hurts a lot, emotionally. I am also continuously falling off the diet wagon and feeling like a complete failure. (previous info: Doc thinks that MAYBE if I lose enough weight, I will start ovulating).

Currently I have to go once a month to get my monthly cycle started because mine does not start on its own. Which has become a complete pain, because I can't find an agency approved babysitter to watch my sweet foster baby in the middle of a work day, go figure. So I've been very bad about going to get my cycle started, which is very very dangerous to do, health-wise. Therefore, Hubs and I talked about me going on the pill, so that it'll just automatically start every month without me having to go to the doctor.

Now, if you don't know...for me this is extremely emotional. This is me admitting that I won't be having a baby and I'm leaving no room for a miracle. Which, might sound insane to you, but to me this is perfectly acceptable. So upon making my doctor's appointment to get the prescription...I cried. (Appt. scheduled for today, April 21st.)

So let's go to another part of the story for a moment.

As much as I try to ignore it, because I would eat a loaf of bread a day if you'd let me, there have been so so so many blogs and articles about women with PCOS needing to go Gluten Free. (which I tried once for like 2 months and I broke down and ate soooooooooo much pasta and bread omg.) And not only that.... messageboards are being flooded by women with PCOS who have gone GF and started ovulating and getting pregnant. Y'all, I just can't ignore it. As much as I want to currently sit in a corner, hugging a loaf of honey wheat bread and cry. Husband is really excited to be on board (who is this man and what has he done with my husband?) and after much debate... this is what we decided this past Thursday:

Yep. Paleo. And honestly, as much of an uphill battle this will be, something tells me it is going to be so worth it.

So let's then talk about Friday, 24 hours after purchasing this book and making this decision.... my doctor calling to cancel my appointment for today.

I really really hope this is God setting me up for something fantastic.

Or it's just coincidence...but whatever I choose to believe the fantastic part.

The Before.

You know what's scary? The before picture. Everyone has one. That one picture that shows you at your biggest. It's terrifying, because there it is. That's you. A picture of you. I don't usually hate pictures of myself because I mean, it's a memory. And I look that way in the memory and there's nothing I can do to change it, so I move along. But that before picture...ugh. This is the one I'm talking about:

(ignore messy mirror/honey-boo-boo looking face)

I forgot to post a before pic when I started this blog. Which, I find weird...I blame "mommy brain". I also took some personal ones of me without a shirt so that I can compare like that, but I'll spare you that one. hahaha

When I lost the first 50 pounds, the only way I could see it was to compare pictures, because I see myself in the mirror every day, I couldn't see the changes. But man, when I put those pictures together, it was glorious. I get so anxious to see that again! And honestly, that is a big thing that keeps me goin' sometimes. I want that "after" pic so bad. SO BAD.

I've been jumping on and off that wagon since I started this blog. Isn't that crazy? Can you relate to being so gung-ho on starting something and then it just teeter off so fast, you didn't even see that coming? Well, I can. But the good thing? I keep jumping back on. There have been so many times I let the wagon drive off and leave me behind. But not this time, I keep chasing it and jumping back on...sometimes I just don't stick the landing.

I've started writing stuff on my calendar that I'm going to do that week that's "active". I plan ahead, and I write it down, so it's done. It's scheduled. I hate canceling things I schedule. Because of that, I've started walking in the park, and walking for hours at the zoo (omg we are loving our membership!). I even have 2 dates with 2 friends on Tuesday and Wednesday for walks in the park! That's right, I'm making everyone join in!

So I want to know....do you have a "before" picture that you're storing away?

Guest Blogger: Meet Erin!

Hello, Everyone! Lately I have been off the wagon and very uninspired. So, I decided to reach out to someone who inspires me, my wonderful friend Erin. I asked her to share her story with you guys! Enjoy! 

So, Tabitha asked me to guest blog on her page. First off, I feel like I'm piggy backing on her e-success.No SHAME. But, I digress....

My weight loss journey is similar to all of yours. Years of struggle for the every elusive "perfect size". As a teenager I battled with something like an eating disorder. Being that I was over weight and addicted to food; I felt shame about eating crap food. I'd spend a whole day obsessing about a specific food until around 10 or 11 at night; I'd give in and  I'd finally eat it. Then, I'd just cry and cry about it. I'd beat myself up and inundate myself with negative self talk. Clearly, not a healthy connection with food. This lasted about 3 years. NUTS. I started to work out when I was about 18 years old. Funny thing, I didn't change my diet. I figured -- I'm spending 2 hours in the gym, I deserve to eat a whole medium pizza myself. PURE LOGIC. I worked out on and off for about 4 years with very little intent to do anything but "bring sexy back". I completely missed the whole concept of healthy versus hot. 

So, what's the problem with this line of thinking? Skinny doesn't mean healthy. Skinny means skinny. However, I could not differentiate between the two. I tried every fad diet, diet pill, crazy contortionist exercise problem. I exerperienced SMALL amounts of weight loss success this way. Once I tried Alli, that weight loss pill that was so popular about 5 years ago. I thought, "COOL. I can still eat what I want and this pill will discard the fat." WRONG. I had an unforunate accident where I realized that you can not take Alli, eat crap and trust a fart. Just a little friendly advice for you, if you're considering Alli. DON'T DO IT. So, there's that.

I ran my body into the ground all through college. Working out, eating only when I had time and it was usually fast food. I drank a lot of alcohol thinkingthis lifestyle would be conducive to weight loss. Funny, right?

In August of 2012, shortly after I graduated from College, my body went completely numb from the chest down. I lost all control and feeling in my arms for three months. I was diagnosed with MS (multiple Sclerosis)  at 24 years old. MIND. BLOWN. That struck me in the deepest parts of my soul. Did I cause this to happen with my lifestyle? No one in my family had this. Once again, Mind...blown!

So, after I got use of my hands back, I resigned to never be that helpless again. I started researching different natural ways to treat this disease and find ways to improve my nutrition. I coupled all of that with medication, I found success with the MS and a happy side effect of weight loss. I lost 85 lbs in the first year. Not just that but, I found that health was the main focus. My goal was to avoid being bed ridden, and I found that that brought on fitness and weight loss. What's that? Weight loss was a happy side effect of getting healthy? That's obviously crazy talk. 

 I started going to the gym 5 days a week. (I know that's a lot but, I noticed that movement decreased the MS related pain.) I started to eat "clean". No preservatives, no processed

foods, nothing. I noticed that the healthier I ate, the less my symptoms would show. I know that sounds drastic and some of you are rolling your eyes at me. I hear faint cries of "NO ONE LIVES THAT WAY. THERE'S TEMPTATION EVERYWHERE." You're correct. Living in Texas -- FOOD IS EVERYWHERE. I'm confronted with fat, sugar, calories every corner I turn. The thing about this is that that pizza isn't worth me losing my independence again. That burger isn't worth me losing the ability to do my job.(I'm a sign language interpreter) Eating that fried, gravy dipped, chocolate glazed thing isn't worth taking years from my life.

I'm sure some of you are shaking your head and going "Yeah yeah yeah.How does this apply to me? How can I gain that resolve to lose weight without enduring a life changing event?" That's a hard one to answer. Each person is different, each heart and mind are different. But, I can say this....Losing weight isn't the goal. Like I said, "the perfect size" is elusive. We're constantly searching and aiming to look like women in movies. That bar was set to impossible heights because our genes aren't the same. Our bodies aren't the same. I'm 5'10.5 inches tall. I wear a size 18. I'm wide set, I'm wide boned and built like a lady amazon. I've spent years ashamed of that. Slouching to be shorter. Wearing 15 thousand layers of Spanx to suck in the flab. However, in this journey of health versus skinny "B" status I found that...I'm beautiful the way I am. I'm strong, I'm HEALTHY. I'm fit. I'm not a size 2. I'm not the "perfect size" even after losing a total of 120lbs. Why? The "Perfect size" doesn't exist, but the perfect you does exist. I try every day, I eat food that not only tastes good but is good for me. I'm fit and HAPPY. And guess what? I'm still "fat". I still weigh around 275 lbs. I'm large and in charge and proud of it. Don't get me wrong, I still like crap food....ON OCCASION. I'm not going to lie and say I'm healthy 100% of the time. PSFT. That's laughable. I do, however, aim for healthy 75-80% of the time. That's REALITY. That's manageable. That's a healthy relationship with food and with your body.

So, I rambled on to what end? Just that life is messy, life is imperfect. The "perfect size" doesn't exist because perfection doesn't exist. You live life every day. If you try AT ALL, you are victorious. The goal is to find health, if you lose weight - - HOT FRICKEN DOG. And trust me, you will lose weight. More than that, you'll gain a perspective on life and yourself that will change you from the inside out. When you lose that weight, It may not be to the "perfect size" but you will be beautiful. Why? Because Healthy is beautiful. Healthy is sexy. So, what should we do? Let's "bring healthy back." (insert awkward white girl twerk to the Sexy back)

Thanks for listening, guys. Blessings on your journey. Live life and be happy. :-)