How A Chin Hair Made Me Cry

Funny enough, it was finding a chin hair in the mirror the other morning that finally had me in tears.

You know how, sometimes, you find yourself overwhelmed by the sheer number of items on your To-Do List, and you wonder how you’ll find the time to get it all done and not let any of the balls drop and all you can do is cry while your husband stares at you like you grew a third head?
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*Guest Post* Overcoming an Eating Disorder

A couple of weeks ago, I put a call/challenge/plea out on my Facebook page asking for Guest Bloggers who would be interested in sharing their experiences fighting the fight against All Things Expected Of Their Bodies / Body Type.

The level of response was incredible!

About our Guest Blogger

Her personality is even *more* colorful!

Her personality is even *more* colorful!

Brittany is a mother, a wife, and a friend that I have never had the joy of meeting in person. That’s Facebook for you, right? What I value in her, however, doesn’t require a close proximity to appreciate; she says it best herself:

“I’m fighting for the girls who never thought they could win.”

How can you not love that?

Enough of my blither-blather! Here’s Brittany’s post, all about how her children, husband, mental illness, and a rare medical condition rescued her from an eating disorder. I think you’ll agree that it’s truly worth the read.


 

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*Guest Post* 100-Day Challenge!

Last week, I put a call/challenge/plea out on my Facebook page asking for Guest Bloggers who would be interested in sharing their experiences fighting the fight against All Things Expected Of Their Bodies / Body Type.

The level of response was incredible!

About our Guest Blogger

Of course I knew that, of everyone who wanted to tell their story, my BFF would come through first.
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State of BEing: Depression

Well, this is embarrassing.
Here I am, this self-proclaimed badass, Super Mom, Do-All-The-Things chick, yelling “I don’t need no approval” just as much as I am yelling for cupcakes in the workplace (not really, but now I want to), and I find myself scared to post how I’m feeling, for fear that I will… I don’t know. Let my family and friends down? Lose readers? Be judged for being fat AND depressed?

What does that say about our society, that we fear being called fat AND that we fear mental illness in any of its forms as even worse?

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On The Pole & In My Head

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before:
“A fat woman walked into a pole dance class…”

Even with all of my confidence and “GO, ME!” and fiercely held belief that the only person truly holding someone back is themselves… I still walked in to my private pole and exotic dance session at Dolphin Dance on Sunday afternoon with the echoes of 20+ years of self-doubt on my heels. Not only was I keenly aware of this injury (left knee, left wrist in a brace, only 9 weeks postpartum) or that insecurity (my arms are really jiggly, what if I can’t support myself on the pole?), but there was that loud, nagging, perpetuated falsehood ricocheting in my head that says that fat woman not only can’t look sexy while dancing, but pole dancing?

Out of the question.

Enter my friend, Emily.
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Someone Stole My Body!

Hey, guys! Look what I made!

Introducing Baby Maye, born July 31st.

Introducing Baby Maye, born July 31st.

For the past month, I have been snuggled up at home with my little girl… feeding, burping, changing diapers, attempting to sleep and rediscovering where all aspects of my life converge and just exactly who that makes me.

The serious levels of sleep deprivation had almost, ALMOST helped me to forget what would come next.
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