Fear in our minds produces fear in our lives. The fear-mind’s goal is to keep us living in a state of inadequacy, doubt and despair. I lived there for a very long time, encased in a shell of darkness at the mercy of my master. When I finally cracked the shell of my suffering, I saw a glimmer of light. Over the past several years I have learned to quiet my fear-mind. But now it is time to say goodbye once and for all.

“The mind cannot serve two masters,” Marianne Williamson writes in A Course in Weight Loss. In any moment we are either host to love or hostage to the fear-mind.

“The fear-mind leads to suffering as sure as the Divine Mind leads to joy. The various ways people anesthetize themselves today – whether through substances or pharmaceuticals – is a wail from the deep: Please don’t make me have to choose.”

But choose I must. And choose I did.

I wrote a letter to my fear-mind, the imposter who’s been masquerading as me, following the instructions laid out in A Course in Weight Loss. Here is my letter.

Dear Imposter,

For a long time I’ve allowed you to reside within me. I believed every disturbing word you said and acquiesced your every demand. I allowed your intrusion in my life and in my mind because you were always there. Terrified of what my own thoughts might be, I chose yours instead. After all, you were the Devil I knew, and I certainly didn’t trust myself.

So I allowed your terrible influence on me. You gave me permission to do bad things when I was on the fence, and goaded me when I resisted. You bullied me relentlessly and wore me down. I allowed it because I was desperately lonely and you were my constant companion, better than nothing at all. You binged on my sorrow, engorging yourself with power.

The stronger you got, the crueler you became. Only the worst of friends know someones deepest secrets, shames, and guilt and uses them to their own advantage. You projected my personal demons into my mind’s eye like a deranged curator of the museum of my darkest depths. Then once I was good and destroyed, you lead me by the hand to comfort in whatever form was available at the time.

That was your goal, wasn’t it? I was the source that got you your fix.

Until recently, I actually thought you were helping me. We disassociated together and numbed ourselves. It felt safe… until I came to at least. I realize now how much you were hurting me. You made me dependent and addicted and kept me chained in a prison of my own fears and negative thoughts, tracing a small triangle of destructive behaviors.

You said it was everyone and everything else that hurt me. I believed you. And so I placed my blame everywhere else and raged against the world while you got to stand by my side, the Devil in my corner.

But I’m onto you now, Imposter. I have come to realize it was YOU who hurt me more than anyone or anything else ever did.

I see your pattern and manipulation clearly. And I see that you need me more than I ever needed you. You need me, your host, to feed your insatiable desires for pleasure in all its destructive forms. But I will no longer be your source.

I’ve come to realize it is YOU who are weak. You feed on the sorrows of those in pain. You’re nothing more than a parasite. You’re small and insignificant and you cannot live here anymore. You cannot hurt me anymore. You are nothing.

I can stand alone in my own body and in my own mind. I know you know this because I can feel your fear and anger over being cast aside. It’s been some time since you’ve fed on me. There’s been little sorrow to feed on. I see you in the corner of my mind emaciated and scared. But I feel no compassion for you. There is nothing here for you and I will not help you.

You have to go.

I’m not afraid anymore. Not of you, not of being alone, not of anything I’ve done, and not of anything that’s happened before or what may happen tomorrow. Do you know why?

Because I am a warrior.

Because I live for today.

Because I have faith that whatever happens, I am loved and the Universe will provide. My heart is open and I have experienced the joy and light of Divine Mind.

I am well supported. Not just by my family and friends, but also by me.  I am well-armed with tools and knowledge. Most of all, I am armed with LOVE.

Give up this fight. You’re a demon, and I command you to leave. You cannot win.

You’re the last lingering darkness within my soul. But unfortunately for you, I was meant to SHINE.

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July was a slippery tightrope on which I could not get a firm grip despite my efforts. Obligations battled for attention, sickness sidelined me, pressures built, and schedules filled. As so often happens when I’m overwhelmed, a critical component of my well being suffered: my health. But rather than write off an entire month, I’m trying something different. I’m giving myself credit where it’s due, identifying areas for improvement, and most importantly, examining where I lost my balance in life so I can maintain it next time a strong wind blows.

Where I Lost My Balance

It’s a shame that the first thing to suffer when life gets hectic is most often ourselves. I can count on one hand the number of times I exercised in July. I barely meditated. I hardly cooked. I bought lunch and takeout when I didn’t need to, spending money I didn’t want to and consuming food I hadn’t planned to.

One day in the middle of the month I felt an urgent need to reset. I was inspired and energized, so I wrote “How to Reset Body and Mind to Feel Better Instantly.”

My reset lasted one day.

I was unable to follow my own formula, which has worked countless times. And so I struggled two more weeks, hopping on and falling off the tightrope until I was exhausted and defeated.

Coincidentally, the winds have died just in time for a new month. I am firmly planted on my rope and feel balanced. Before I take a step, however, I think it is important to examine where I lost my balance. I have my friend, Robin Renee to thank for that. You see, she commented on my post about resetting with words of wisdom that resonated with me:

“I try to notice, gently, what led me off the path. When I notice consciously that I am overeating out of nervousness or emotional upset, it’s a little easier to stop and make a better choice. If I find I am being reactionary out of anger directed at self or other, I might take the first steps toward looking at the underlying issue rather than punishing myself by being inactive or something similar. To do that kind of self-reflection, while being kind to myself regardless of what I find, is a practice that has seen me through a lot in recent years.”

I didn’t manage to do this in the throes of July’s chaos. But since stress and life is certain to keep happening, Robin has helped me to realize that the best way to prevent losing balance in the future is to “notice, gently” what led me off my rope. Did I stumble for the sake of stumbling? Am I weak and undisciplined? Am I a failure?

No.

First of all, June depleted me physically, emotionally and mentally as I was consumed with achieving my weight loss goal. I needed some time to recuperate and take it easy and so I allowed that for myself.

But then I got sick with an upper respiratory infection. I was so miserable that my cravings for comfort in the form of food came out in full force. I was not strong or well enough to resist them. And so for nearly an entire week I slept, binge-watched Vikings, and ate whatever I wanted.

After that, things were just… full… and I struggled to gain my footing since so many things required my attention. Keep in mind that not everything was necessarily bad. In addition to the tough stuff a lot of significant and positive things happened. It was just a lot. The rest of the month felt like one long uphill climb. Each obligation, social event, and appointment was a checkpoint I was relieved to cross. Time off was hard to come by, and so I used it to sit and rest (and eat) rather than reset.

Areas For Improvement

I do not say any of this to make excuses. I’m simply “noticing.” There is a learning opportunity here, which is why I’m reflecting. The first step to doing better is to understand where I went wrong.

I see now that next time I do something particularly taxing, I need to plan close-ended recovery time. Next time I get sick, I must remember to stock up with “healthy” comfort food since even sickness is no deterrent to my appetite. And if my schedule gets too full, I need to find windows for rest, but also windows for self-care, even if that means rescheduling some things.

Clearly, I still have work to do understanding and prioritizing my priorities. My health is a high priority, yet my actions don’t reflect that when life gets full. I must prioritize my diet, exercise and well-being regardless of the winds life kicks up. 

Giving Credit Where It’s Due

I struggled this past July and I lost my balance in life. But with that being said, I see great progress in how I handled a difficult month. Despite falling off my rope, I continued to step back on even if I only held my balance a few hours before stumbling again. Three years ago I would have cut the rope and burned it.

Throughout it all, I didn’t smoke a cigarette and celebrated my one-year cigarette-free-versary on July 23. Although my eating was poor, I made better bad choices. And although this past month affected my relationship with my self, it didn’t spread farther than that. It didn’t leave me emotionally erratic or cause tension in any of my other relationships. This is a tremendous victory.

I am a work in progress and like everyone else, I’m doing the best I can. My performance this past July was my best. But now after reflecting on where I stumbled, I feel confident that with practice I will continue to improve my balancing skills.

I’d like to take this opportunity to publicly apologize for every single time I’ve invalidated someone’s feelings. I consider it an honor and a privilege when someone feels they can share their feelings with me. I aim to be a supportive and validating confidant. If I cannot, at the very least my goal is to be an empathetic listener. But for the majority of my life these were not my aims, and I did not know how to listen. As a result, I fear I have been a disappointment. People, maybe even you reading this now, have come to me to share and to be heard. And instead of feeling heard or affirmed, I invalidated your feelings and inflicted the pain of invalidation. I let you down.

I sincerely apologize.

There is no excuse for invalidating your feelings. But I want to share with you that I know now why I’ve done it. Most likely, what you said made me feel uncomfortable. Perhaps you were brave enough to express a fear, a fear that may live deep within my soul. And in that moment, I became afraid. And so it was easier for me to disregard your concern with a wave of the hand and a “pssh, that will never happen.”

Or perhaps you spoke of a change you wish to make. And it triggered a longing or guilt or resentment within me, and so again, I disregarded what you said in order to ease my own discomfort. I may have tried to squash your desire in order to make myself feel better about my own life.

Regardless of what it is you shared, I shut you down. It was supposed to be about you. And I made it about me.

I sincerely apologize.

There are countless reasons we may begin to feel uncomfortable in conversation. I recently sat at a table with a friend who became honest and vulnerable with her family. I watched, saddened, as her family literally began to shift in their seats with discomfort. They then proceeded to shut her down.

Honesty, presumed weakness, vulnerability, talk of dreams and change beyond the status quo… these are cause for discomfort. I have been so incredibly self-centered that I have inserted myself into things people have said and shared. And although what they said only had to do with them, and not me, I allowed myself to feel judged or countless other emotions. I invalidated people’s feelings in order to save or validate my own.

I sincerely apologize.

Going Forward

Perhaps it’s Karma that my feelings have been invalidated and my words ignored so much lately. It’s nothing new, but ignorance was bliss. It didn’t hurt so much.

Now it hurts immensely. Because I understand why it’s happening. My heart aches not only for myself, but for the people invalidating me. Like the person I recently shared exciting news with. I watched as her eyes glazed over and she wordlessly got up from the table and walked away. She uttered not one syllable of validation or encouragement. It hurt because this is someone who claims to love and want good things for me. But it also hurt because I know of the war going on within her that prevents her from ever being truly happy for anyone else.

I suppose that as I attempt to process the heart-wrenching pain of so much recent invalidation, I have identified growth opportunities. One, I am able to apologize… for whatever it’s worth. And two, I have identified yet another area to practice compassion.

It’s not easy, though. If you’ve ever confided your feelings with tears streaming down your face and asked to be heard only to be told that you are “ridiculous” or “acting like a teenager,” then you know my pain. And I sincerely apologize that you know that pain. It is the pain of invalidation. And it hurts.

But there is room for compassion. The person who told me I am ridiculous has zero frame of reference for the pain I was describing since it was a life experience he was fortunate enough to avoid. When my Mom told me I was acting like a teenager, I know now that my behavior triggered her guilt and scared her. In all instances I’ve mentioned, I unknowingly caused discomfort. My feelings were invalidated as a result.

It hurts all around. I know since I’ve been on both sides of the coin.

And maybe you don’t know that pain. Maybe you do the invalidating and have no idea why. Maybe now you can begin to see that is because of your own discomfort. And maybe you can just sit with that for a moment…

And when you’re ready, maybe you can try to work on that.  Because it is an honor and a privilege when someone chooses to share something with you.

Going forward, I aim to live up to that honor.

It had been a really rough week and a half. It was the first time in a while I sat in my counselor’s office and cried sad, thick, tired tears. What was wrong? Nothing. And everything. Despite all I’ve learned and my quest for balance, I had gone and done it again. I put too much on my proverbial plate and was overwhelmed. My quest for balance became unbalanced. As a result, all the tell-tale symptoms had appeared. Mike and I were bickering more, I didn’t feel well, I was highly sensitive, and I had a great desire to check out on the couch under a mountain of potato chips and chocolate in an effort to hide from the world and my responsibilities.

Becoming Unbalanced

The pressure had been building for a few weeks. I had tried to minimize my priorities, and I did cut a bit of the unimportant stuff. But it seemed I was still left with too much I considered a high priority. The thing is though, the great majority of those responsibilities were self-imposed. Things I had incorporated into my daily routine over the past several months in an effort to live a well-balanced life mentally, emotionally, physically and spiritually: meditation, exercise, journaling, writing, cleaning and meal planning, and gardening among other things.

I think under normal circumstances I could manage it all, but work is particularly busy since our largest annual event is around the corner. There has also been a lot of random obligations and events taking up my time. Top that off with some serious PMS, and my quest for balance became unbalanced. That’s because keeping up with all of the self-imposed tasks resulted in stress. The stress brought me out of balance mentally, emotionally, physically and spiritually.

I tried to meditate and couldn’t quiet my brain from thinking of everything I “had” to do. Since I was stressed and over tired, my emotions were heightened and I argued with Mike. Physically, I felt run down. I started to feel sad.  That hopeless feeling began to creep into my thoughts like light fog.

I had ignored the warning signs, but couldn’t ignore the symptoms. I knew that something had to give.

Restoring Balance

And so I stopped doing everything from a sense of obligation and started evaluating what I needed, when, and if it would help or hurt me. Balance is a fine line. It is not uncommon for people trying to lose weight, for example, to begin exercising and eating healthy only to then take it too far by exercising too much and eating too little. There is a sweet spot when it comes to balance and we must be diligent to prevent the quest for balance from becoming unbalanced.

It was a mistake I made. There is little point in meditating, exercising, and writing every day if completing all those things leaves me exhausted and stressed and fighting with my husband. That’s not balance. Keep in mind the seven questions to ask yourself when deciding what is best for you (Is it good for your family, relationships, career, finances, health, self-development, and spirituality?).

Although all the things I want to do can be very good for me, I need to do them all at a time when they will be good for me. Now is not that time. Although I had gotten into a steady yoga practice, that is something I am temporarily taking a break from in an effort to restore balance (ironic isn’t it?). I miss yoga, but I just don’t feel strong enough at the moment for the practice. And those 5:00 am wake up times are killing me.

Hopefully within a couple weeks I can take back on all the things I want to do, including yoga. But for now, I’m picking and choosing and getting creative.

I am restoring balance by taking some weight off the scales. I’ll add it back on when I’m in a better place to handle it.

P.S. Questions for Life: Two Year Guided Daily Journal for Intentional Living is on sale for $3.00 off through May! Buy it now from Amazon.

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When traveling somewhere new, it’s important to leave the resort in order to say you’ve been there. I loved my time at Secrets Cap Cana in the Dominican Republic, but my desire to leave the comfort of the resort in order to see something unique was powerful. With limited money due to our unexpectedly extended vacation, and Mike’s desire to not be gone from the resort too long, we agreed on the Hoyo Azul (blue hole) cenote. A cenote is a natural pit, or sinkhole, resulting from the collapse of limestone bedrock that exposes groundwater underneath. The photos I had browsed online were of gorgeous turquoise clear water. But a friend warned me it was “crowded and cold.” Nevertheless, on the second to last day of our vacation, Mike and I ventured outside of our resort to Scape Park in order to visit Hoyo Azul and see for ourselves.

Scape Park

Scape Park Cap Cana is a natural theme park with several attractions including a waterfall expedition, ziplining, cave tour, and its most popular, Hoyo Azul eco tour. Upon arriving at Scape Park I was immediately turned off by the tourist trap that lay before me. Cafe, gift shop, professional photographers snapping photos they hope you’ll purchase later, and lots of people waiting around. I was not impressed.

Ticket costs vary depending on the attraction and there is a discount for multiples. Our tickets for the blue hole were $69 each and included transportation. Once you identify your guide for the attraction for which you purchased tickets (they have signs) you wait for more people to arrive. Tours leave twice daily at scheduled times, but you don’t have much control over how early you arrive since you rely on Scape Park’s shuttle service from your resort. I am certain they intentionally get you there earlier than necessary in hopes you’ll patron the shops.  Fortunately, there are some animals to look at and we enjoyed the monkeys in particular. I also found myself draped in an enormous python. I have no photo to share, though since the photographer shouted at Mike when he tried to take a picture.

Mike and I waited nearly 45 minutes until we finally set off for the mile or so “hike” to the cenote. I say “hike” because it was really more of a leisurely stroll through the jungle with more stops than are necessary: water break, bathroom break, and photo break. What should have taken no more than twenty minutes took more like forty. As far as “eco tour,” that is also a bit of a stretch. It’s a walk through the woods with a few orchids crudely attached to trees with wire.

After the space and exclusivity of the resort, I found myself annoyed to be in a large group of people, at the mercy of the tour guide. I didn’t need breaks on a short walk and was fully capable of following the trail myself. So far, I had found the entire experience a waste of time. But I kept my hopes up that the blue hole would be worth it.

Hoyo Azul

The trail to the blue hole winds up some steps and onto what is more or less a wooden deck. Around us was an enormous cavern. Below us was a natural pool filled with the most beautiful turquoise water I have ever seen. All my frustration melted away. I realized Scape Park was simply the gateway to something magnificent, and worth the minor annoyances.

We descended a flight of wooden steps onto another large deck, much like a dock at a bay, where you could stand against the railing and look directly down into the blue hole. It was conical shaped. Shallow and rocky along the perimeter, but plunging downward to depths unknown to me in the center. A few more stairs on the left lead down to the water’s edge. On the right was a 14 foot high ledge for jumping. I was overjoyed to see it, but more than anything I wanted to feel that water against my skin.

“What are they waiting for?” I asked Mike. I looked around at the forty or so people in our tour; everyone busy taking selfies and gazing upon the blue hole through the lenses of their cameras and phones.

“I’m going in.”

I slipped out of my skirt and pulled my tank top over my head and walked in only my bathing suit down the staircase to the wooden landing beside the water. Lowering my feet onto a wooden board submerged in the water, I felt the cool freshness against my skin. I lowered my eyes and inhaled deeply, taking it in.

This. This is what was missing on our trip to the Dominican so far. I had so badly wanted to see something new, something natural, something besides our beautiful resort to make me feel as if I had the right to say I had been to the Dominican Republic. And for a blessed moment, it was all mine. I was inspired by the magnificence of my surroundings.

“Is it cold?” Remembering I was not alone in this beautiful space, I looked up and saw dozens of pairs of eyes gazing down at me. Me, in only my swimsuit. Them, hanging over railings awaiting my response.

“Not really,” I said. And then, with all eyes on me, I dove off the little step into the cool water the shade of blue like nothing I had ever seen. And for several more wonderful minutes, Hoyo Azul was all mine.

Jumping In

Diving in from the ledge was one thing, but jumping from fourteen feet was quite another. I jumped from a twenty-five foot high ledge when I was a tween, but my fear of heights has grown in intensity as I have grown in inches. As I stood at the ledge of the blue hole, fourteen feet up, fear gripped me. I took a step forward, then back, forward, then back. And finally, shook my hands in frustration, fists balled, and stepped aside, encouraging someone to go ahead of me. I know this so well because Mike recorded my first attempt. He also recorded my second attempt when I chickened out again.

By the third time, I was frustrated with myself. I knew I had to jump, but every time I tried, fear held me back as if ropes had emerged from the cavern and knotted themselves around my arms and legs. A few people shouted that I could do it. And I believed them. So I stood at the edge and waved my arms in such a way to universally signal the need for applause. Everyone cheered and whistled. And there I stood, self-conscious in my bathing suit, but not just the heavy woman afraid to jump. I was the woman who created her own cheering squad and knew how to overcome her fear. It was time.

And so I took one small step forward… then back… then forward once more and off the ledge into the blue depths below.

Applause erupted as I emerged from the surface. My body was shaky and flooded with adrenaline. My smile was brighter than the sun. I could watch the video all day of that brave woman taking a leap in spite of her tremendous fear.

Not jumping was never an option. Letting people go in front of me was one thing, but never once did it even occur to me to exit the line. The energy of the crowd inspired me and gave me courage. Jumping cemented the image of the Hoyo Azul in my mind. It is no longer just a gorgeous cenote in the Dominican where I went swimming, but a place where I encountered a fear, and beat it back.

This story would be quite different had I ran out of time. Afterall, Scape Park didn’t give us much time – fifty minutes maybe. They need to get you back to the hub to sit around and spend more money on $12.00 photos. In my October post, Facing and Embracing Fear to Avoid Regret, I wrote: “Imagine if I had let my fear get the best of me that day on top of that cliff? This would not be a story of courage, but one of regret.”

I could say the same exact thing now. Once again, I wrote a story of courage.

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I had just gotten another drink and was settling in to a lounge chair when my friend Rudy approached.

“It’s official,” he said.

“What’s official?”

“Our flight was canceled.”

Despite our anticipation that this would happen due to what was said to be a colossal snow storm headed to the northeast, the official word caught me by surprise. My body flooded with a sense of excitement and relief (this would not be our last day in paradise after all), but also a twinge of anxiety (what now?).

Me, Mike and Rudy headed up to Rudy’s room to use the landline to call United and make other arrangements. After an hour on hold, the call disconnected. Annoyed, we headed down to the reception area to at least secure an additional night’s stay.

“So for one extra night, that will be $750 per room.”

My heart sank and my eyes widened.  I was grateful Mike had gone to the bathroom and wasn’t there to hear this.

I waited for the woman who assisted us to finish talking, then as calmly and kindly as possible told her that we had spoken to someone earlier who assured us they would work with us if our flights were canceled. “Or else we will need to sleep on your beach,” I added.

She got back on the phone. As I did my best to sit patiently, I used my tools to keep calm, think up alternative plans (we could share a room, take a cab over to Santo Domingo and stay in the city) and remind myself that it could be far worse. After all, we were momentarily stuck in Punta Cana; stranded in a brand new, luxury, all-inclusive resort on white sand beaches with turquoise water. Everyone was safe, including Cooper who was staying with his Gammy (my Mom.)

“What’s going on?” Mike asked when he returned.

“Why don’t you grab us a drink, hon? I will take care of this.” Mike had been worried about the storm since before we left. Despite his sun-kissed skin, he turned a shade paler when Rudy said the flight home was canceled. “No, I want to know.”

“Well, she’s currently trying to work with us on the rate.”

“What if—”

“Let’s just see what she can do,” I said, cutting him off gently. Although I had already been thinking up some “what-if” scenarios, I didn’t want to get ahead of ourselves by discussing them out loud. Besides, I knew how nervous Mike was. He was out of his comfort zone enough just being in another country. More than ever I needed to stay calm and help keep Mike at ease. I gave his hand a squeeze. “Everything is going to be fine.”

And just a few moments later, one problem was solved. The resort offered us an incredible rate that exceeded all expectation. They also assured us it would remain the same if we ended up needing additional nights.

“See,” I said to Mike with a reassuring smile as we headed to our room to get back on the phone. “Sometimes we just have to wait and see.”

“Yeah, but what about our flights?”

“We’ll have to wait and see.”

“I hate this.”

“I know you do. But the situation is entirely one hundred percent out of our control. We have no choice but to surrender to it, let go and trust that everything will work out. It could be far worse. Just think of all those people detained at airports, or people trying to get home for funerals.”

After an hour on hold, the call disconnected once more. Rudy was having no better luck. “Screw it, let’s go to dinner and deal with this later,” he suggested.

A cloud of uncertainty hung over dinner. Despite my gratitude for an extra day and the resort’s flexibility, I too was eager to know when we’d be going home. Mike was quiet, but I knew his mind was not. Work, the dog, the added expense… all these things flew through his brain and no encouragement I could offer would quiet them. Instead I simply promised to call again the second we returned to the room. “Maybe the hold times will be shorter the later it gets, anyway.”

Several hours later and after another two dropped calls, I handed Mike the phone so he could wait on hold as I dozed off, unsure if the next morning would be my last in Punta Cana…

“Jess, Jess!” I startled awake and took the phone from Mike.

After several minutes I thanked the woman who re-booked us and turned to an anxious Mike.

“The best they could do for us is Saturday.”

It was only Monday. Mike’s face sank and for a moment I thought he might cry.

“Let’s get some rest,” I said. “I promise to try again in the morning. Maybe someone else can find something different. In the meantime, at least we have a flight.”

First thing the following morning I was back on the phone. As much as I didn’t mind staying until Saturday and knew work had no choice but to understand, my heart ached for Mike who didn’t have the same tools as me. He’d had a restless night.

I asked the helpful man on the line to hold a moment while I explained to Mike he could get us to Philadelphia on Thursday, but we’d have a layover. Mike knew I was in heaven in Punta Cana so his eyes pleaded with me to agree as he answered, “let’s do that.”

And with our flight changed yet again, Mike was flooded with relief.

“Now, can we please enjoy our last couple days here?”

Not long ago I think I would have been just as anxious as Mike in this situation. I’d have wasted time and energy tracking the storm and checking flight information ahead of the cancellations. I’d have allowed my anxiety to keep me from sleep or enjoyment. I’d have conjured up every possible “what-if” scenario and filled my head with stories not remotely based on evidence or fact. (I’ll be fired!) I’d worry about not packing Cooper enough food for Gammy’s house. I’d worry (like Mike) about the lack of clean clothes left in our suitcases. I’d worry about the added expense… worry, worry, worry.

But I did none of this. That’s because I knew full well that I had zero control over the situation and that everything works out. I spent my vacation in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic living in the moment. I swam, I ate, I laughed, I practiced yoga, I danced, I played loads of pool volleyball, I laid in the sun, I drank, and I hung out with Mike and our friends. Me AND my mind stayed in Punta Cana. I didn’t worry about what might happen. And once it did happen, I still didn’t worry because I knew there were solutions. “So we’ll pay to have some clothes laundered if we have to,” I told Mike.

I rode the wave of travel inconvenience and viewed the entire experience as a blessing in disguise. Rather than leave Tuesday morning, we left Thursday afternoon. It was a good test for me. Like an exam. I got to put my tools to use and I passed. As for Mike, now that he has this experience under his belt, I’m confident he will not be so uneasy if anything like this should happen again. Although he did say it will be a while before he leaves the country again.

“That’s okay,” I said. “Hawaii is technically part of the country.”

Somewhere along the course of my life, I became convinced I didn’t deserve to feel good about myself. Well-manicured nails, nice clothes, special treatments… these things were exclusively reserved for thin, healthy women. They deserved them, not me. I’d have to earn them. And the only way I could earn them was to quit smoking and be thin. Since I almost always fell short in that department, I have deprived myself of that which would make me feel better. I didn’t realize this until quite recently…

The Revelation

I was sitting with my counselor chatting about my progress and how great I’ve been feeling. “And although I’m not at the weight I hoped I’d be by now, I went ahead and made all my appointments anyway for waxing, mani/pedi, etc. I’m going shopping for a new swimsuit and a few new pieces of clothing. I’ve been applying self-tanner,” I said with a laugh.  “I want to do whatever I can to look as good as I feel. I never did that in the past and I always regretted not trying harder before a special event.”

“Why do you think that is?” she asked.

I had to think about it. Why didn’t I buy new clothes or splurge on new make-up, pedicures or waxing before special events in the past? The truth emerged.

“I suppose it’s because I was never who I wanted to be for the occasion. And so I guess I never felt I deserved those things. I was a fat smoker. I didn’t earn a new swimsuit or clothes, or special treatment. And so I’d go to the thing or the place, and I’d feel self conscious about my clothes and my nails and my hair and my smoking. Feeling like shit was what I deserved.”

No sooner than the harsh reality left my lips did my eyes start to well with this sad revelation. I never understood this was my thought progress and why I made the decisions I did. It hurt to learn this is how I treated myself… that in yet another way, I was my own worst enemy.

“And why is it different now?” she asked.

“I feel good. I know I don’t look much different yet, but I feel different. I’ve quit smoking, have worked so hard and have made so much progress. I don’t want to punish myself anymore. I want to reward myself. I deserve to go to Punta Cana next week and feel as good about myself as possible. So many times I have done things as if I’d get a re-do when I was ready.”

“Like those things didn’t quite count because you weren’t the version of yourself in your head?”

“Exactly. But I’ve learned that there are seldom opportunities for re-dos. I may never go to Punta Cana again. It may be years before I get to to the Caribbean again, if ever. I don’t want to go in an old swimsuit that barely fits or with ugly feet. I don’t want to look at pictures and wish I’d tried harder. I don’t want to feel self-conscious and cry in my room before gaining the courage to go down to the pool.”

Clearly, somewhere over the past few months, a miraculous shift in my thought process occurred.

I deserve to feel good about myself. 

The Preparation

And so I went shopping. Twice. My arms laden with hangers I entered the dressing rooms at various stores prepared for war and experienced countless emotions throughout the process. But with patience, forgiveness, diligence, discernment, and a little help from my friends (Kathy reminded me to tap into my inner Goddess and that I deserve a beautiful swimsuit I feel great in), I emerged victorious. I found two great swimsuits, two gorgeous cover-ups that make me feel confident and sexy, and a few other pieces that fit great and make me feel good.

I will get my nails and toes done, my hair cut, and some waxing. I’ll replace some overdue make-up. I will put care and effort into packing (minimally, of course).

The Conclusion

I have let my fears and a sense that I didn’t deserve things hold me back for a long time. I want to travel! I want to see and experience new things! I want to feel good about myself! I want to achieve my goals! I have shifted my thinking from a place of fear to a place of love and I have witnessed my life finally begin to change. I’ve worked very hard to rid myself of destructive and sabotaging thought processes. It was only once I started to do that that I finally began to see change. I now see this idea that I don’t deserve to feel good about myself for what it truly is: another story concocted by my fear-mind to keep me from living my life and pursuing my dreams. This idea was never motivating, only debilitating.

And now that I know I deserve to feel good about myself, the sky is my limit.

Weight loss is all about figuring out what works for you. Unfortunately, it often takes a long time to figure out what that is. In the meantime, we need to try out a whole lot of what doesn’t work. ‘Count calories’ is an extremely common piece of advice said to help us lose weight, along with ‘exercise more.’ Well, I did count calories. For years. And for years I saw zero results (in fact, I gained weight) and just kept on counting anyway. Finally, I realized it just wasn’t working for me. Here are 7 reasons why I stopped counting calories.

1. I stopped looking at food as FOOD, and only as calories.

Food is fuel, but when you become obsessed with calories you lose sight of what fuels you. Instead, you often focus on what you can have for X amount of calories, regardless of whether it’s nutritious or not. I have consumed countless “diet” and “100-calorie” snacks laden with chemicals and ingredients I can’t pronounce all in the name of quantity. “But I can have seventeen of these!” Sound familiar?

Sure, you can have sugar-free “chocolate” or seventeen paper thin mini “Oreos,” but what you don’t get is any nutrition. I was left hungry and unsatisfied constantly (and often returned for more in search of satiation, which resulted in increased calorie intake.) Now I know I could have just had an apple and a tablespoon of peanut butter or heaven forbid, some actual real dark chocolate and been done with it. More calories, sometimes, but also long lasting fiber, protein, and vitamins. Best of all, the wonderful feeling of knowing I gave myself something nutritious and didn’t need to keep rummaging for sustenance.

I’ve since adopted Michael Pollan’s philosophy on food. “Eat real food. Mostly vegetables. Not too much.”

2. Calorie counting made me obsessive.

I am a stickler for accuracy, which became an obsession when counting calories. I weighed and measured all my food, adding and subtracting chips and dry pasta until I had the perfect one or two ounces allowed. When I didn’t know precise measurements I agonized over my estimates. My husband mistakenly taking my perfectly portioned lunch and leaving me his was enough to make me cry with fear and uncertainty. I became inflexible and rigid and loss of total control over my food made me nervous.

3. Calorie counting is an enormous time suck.

Food-shopping, cooking and eating all took longer. The comparing, the weighing, the measuring, the counting, the adding, dictating nutrition facts and entering them into the app I used… it had become such a chore! Many times I ate the same things or bought the same brands, even if a comparable one was on sale, for the sole reason that I didn’t feel like entering new information into the app. Which leads me to my next point…

4. Calorie counting made me hesitant to try new things.

After so many years of calorie counting I know roughly how many calories are in most anything. But when faced with something new that wasn’t accompanied by a package or had a lot of components, I was hesitant to try it because I couldn’t account accurately for the calories. I hated not knowing and didn’t trust guessing. Even if it did come with a package, sometimes I still avoided things if I wasn’t in the mood to list all the nutrition facts into the app. Better to stick with what I was certain about. For someone who loves trying new things as much as I do, this was a huge deterrent.

5. I wanted to minimize my obligations.

If something you do to HELP yourself becomes a stressful burden that you dread, then it’s time to rethink it.

6. I learned enough to get by without counting calories.

This is where I will say that I am grateful for some of the time I spent counting calories. Counting calories taught me portion sizes and how many calories are in most foods, as well as how to calculate calories of most things in my head. But if you’re reading this, then you most likely know these things by now, too. Cutting the chord isn’t easy. But if counting calories has you obsessing or stressed out, and you know the basics, then try striking it out on your own. Chances are, like me, you know what and how much you should be eating.

7. I want to live my life fully, freely and BALANCED.

I don’t have the time, energy or desire to obsess and worry over every single thing I put in my mouth. What I want is to achieve balance. My friend, Amanda, said something to me last week that makes me believe I’m getting there. I had lost my first ten pounds for the year and she said, “And you’re doing it right. Don’t forget you went out for restaurant week and had fried chicken!”

Yes, I most certainly did! I also had several drinks, two huge biscuits that accompanied the chicken, and some of my dessert (I would have eaten all of it if I wasn’t so full.) I don’t want weight loss to mean I can never go out for restaurant week again, or drink with my friends, or have dessert. It is possible to find balance. I have witnessed it, not only in my first ten pounds, but in others.

I have been inspired for years by a random woman I saw leaving the gourmet Italian deli and bakery next to my office. She was in her running clothes, all sweaty, and she had a huge hot drink and a cinnamon roll the size of her head! I thought to myself, “That! That is what I want!” Not necessarily the cinnamon roll (although it looked phenomenal) but the BALANCE. Here was a fit woman who clearly just went running and then got herself what she wanted.

I don’t believe I can achieve balance while counting every calorie. Some people can, and I say good for them! But it’s not for me.

I have felt liberated since I stopped counting calories at the start of 2016. I still remember saying to my coach, “I don’t want to do this anymore. Is that okay?” I was worried she’d say I had to keep doing it, but it was just so clear it wasn’t working for me. She agreed and gave me the permission I was looking for.

I got my time back, became more relaxed with food, and saved myself $9.00/month from canceling the subscription to the app I used. Once again, I made new recipes, tried new things, and enjoyed my renewed food freedom.

I also found that everything I learned had stuck. I didn’t all of a sudden forget how to check nutrition facts or serving sizes or how many calories are in a banana. And I still sometimes weigh out an ounce of tortilla chips with my chili or 2 ounces of pasta for my lunch, just to keep from accidentally over-eating. And I actually do write down everything I eat in my planner every day – just little notes to jog my memory and help me keep track of things. I don’t include specific details like quantity or portion sizes. Just enough information to help me figure out what works, what doesn’t, and how certain foods make me feel.

That’s what works for me. Calorie counting didn’t. Remember, it’s all about what works for YOU.

I could tell by the crowds on the platform that the train was late and I’d be lucky to fit on board once it arrived. Thankfully, I was able to squeeze in. As the train slowed at the next stop, I recognized someone waiting on the platform. A wave of relief flooded me with the realization there was no room for him. But then he crammed on board. There was nowhere for me to go. It wasn’t until our shoulders were touching that he noticed me. I felt the shift from his recognition that he was pressed against his ex-girlfriend, someone he’d spent over a year with sharing intimacies and love. Despite that, neither one of us acknowledged the other. We endured the awkward ride, painfully aware of the other, until I exited the train two stops early to end the discomfort. As I strode away, I thought how sad so many relationships come to such ends.

I’ve shared intimacies with many people who are no longer in my life. People who no longer know me, yet walk the Earth carrying my secrets with them, and I theirs. For a long time I struggled greatly with abandonment (and am told I still do at times). Rather than simply let people go, I struggled. I clutched my relationships with friends and lovers like water balloons, and as a result many of them burst.

Attachment is a human condition. If only I knew and understood from a young age that it was completely natural for people to come and go, I would not have suffered so in letting go of relationships. If only I’d known that a great many people aren’t necessarily meant to stay in our lives,  I would have been far more grateful for my time with them, rather than mourn my time without them.

We cannot count on anyone staying in our life forever. All that we can count on is change. We adapt to it, or we allow it to hurt us. Change in our closest relationships is such a struggle, though because meaningful relationships are so intricately woven. Identities become linked together and it is easy to forget who we are without the other.

I lost my two childhood best friends, one of them twice. The friendships ended for good sophomore year of high school and it destroyed me. In hindsight, I hadn’t a clue in the world who I was except for the person I was with my two best friends and within our circle. The loss of my friendships in high school is my single greatest trauma for the sole reason that it either directly or indirectly led to every trauma after it. I was a dingy lost at sea without a paddle or an anchor…

As a result I viewed every future friendship and relationship like a lifeboat, to which I desperately clung. I gave meaning to meaningless relationships and settled for friends not worthy of the title. When the relationships inevitably ended, largely due to my neediness, I still mourned them. For anything was better than nothing.

Eventually, and not without great struggle, I matured and created a life for myself. I gained confidence and learned how to enjoy my own company. I even have friends of my very own outside of the amazing friendships I inherited from my husband.

I no longer settle in my relationships. The friendships I have now are a perfect fit and I truly believe I found them when the time was right. I am not at all like the person I was as a child or a teen. To expect all of our relationships to grow and change with us is an unrealistic expectation. If my friendships didn’t end in high school, they still would have ended eventually.

I could have said hello to my ex-boyfriend on the train. Instead I chose to follow his lead. There are some people I’d love to say hello to if I bumped in to them, but for most, there is no point. We no longer know one another, so why acknowledge we once did? For one reason or another, we have let go of one another. It is perfectly natural. And I know that now. People grow and change. We cannot expect all of our relationships to grow and change with us.

Being able to let go of relationships with a sense of love and gratitude is a gift. Seeing my ex boyfriend on the train brought back a lot of great memories. It was a wonderful short-lived time in my life and I am grateful to him and wish him well. I do the same for my two childhood best friends. And another I lived with in Philadelphia. And many others who have come and gone over the years…

I saw my ex boyfriend on the train again this morning. This time, having already written this post, I only thought one thing: how strange that we’ve lived within miles of one another for over a decade and haven’t seen one another and now twice in one week. Again, he ignored me and turned away in the aisle of the train. I smiled slightly to myself and went back to my book.

I had already let him go with peace and gratitude. Now he’s just someone that I used to know.

If, like me, you are feeling profoundly disappointed over the results of our election, please know that you are not alone. It is natural in the wake of this tragedy to feel afraid, angry, confused, and deeply saddened. But these are the negative emotions that allowed such a result to occur in the first place. It is our job now to find peace in the aftermath of what has been a deeply dividing, hostile and hideous race for the presidency. All I can do is share with you what I plan to do to find peace after the election, and hope that you will join me in choosing positive emotions over negative ones. These are the six things I intend to try in order to begin to heal from this madness.

1. Unplug from social media.

The news crushed me in the early hours of this morning. It felt as if a sinkhole opened in my chest and had been filled with concrete. I scrolled through my Facebook feed and the weight of everyone’s disappointment felt like sandbags piled on top. A gloating post felt like a knife in my side, and made me think more judgemental thoughts. Aware of what was happening inside of me, I logged off. It is my intention to avoid all social media until things settle down and most of all, until my feelings settle down.

We don’t need to read our feeds to know what is going on. Here’s a spoiler alert: many people are profoundly hurt and angry, and many people are gloating. Take my word for it and avoid it.

2. Practice metta meditation/send loving kindness into the world

Many of the people who allowed Trump to win this election did so because they are afraid and angry and have been feeling threatened. They acted out of fear. The people who fought to prevent this atrocity are now feeling just as afraid, angry and threatened. That is A LOT of pain and suffering. Our country is crying today. I will be practicing metta meditation and sending loving kindness out into the universe to my loved ones, but also to my enemies, so that love may enter their hearts and guide their actions.

3. Be the voice of kindness and compassion

Never before have I felt so much lesser for the simple fact that I am a woman. I have tried to imagine what it might feel like today to not only be black, not only to be a black woman, but to be a black homosexual woman. I can’t imagine. I have tried to imagine what it might feel like to have been assaulted by Trump and to have come forward and for my assaulter to be elected the most powerful job in America anyway. I can’t. I have tried to imagine what it might feel like to be a Muslim and to fear for my family’s safety. I can’t.

What I can do is be kind and demonstrate through my actions that I support woman, the LGBT community, and that I do not live in fear of Muslims or anyone that appears to be of Middle Eastern descent. I can demonstrate that my ideals do not align with those who have elected this bigoted, racist, sexist man to the Presidency.

4. Try to forgive

On Thanksgiving day I will be at a table surrounded by people who voted for Trump. This thought makes me lose my appetite. I cannot make excuses for my friends and family members. In this election, it means something if you supported this man. But I refuse to disown friends and family members over this like I have seen some people say on Facebook.

I cannot justify the behaviors or actions of people who aligned with this man, but I can remind myself of their ignorance and fears. I can attempt to convince myself that they simply did not know any better and/or acted from fear, not intelligence. That doesn’t necessarily make it any easier, and it is our responsibility to be informed citizens, but the simple truth is that some people have deep rooted resentments and fears, some that they inherited from their parents, and are incapable of seeing around it. I cannot control what they do, but I can control what I do. And I will practice compassion and attempt to understand.

5. Remember that laws won’t change overnight

Yes, things are uncertain and scary. But the simple reality is that Trump can’t single handedly reverse laws overnight. We won’t wake up in January and learn that marriage equality has been reversed, that abortion is now illegal in all 50 states, and that Muslims are being rounded up and put in prison. Have faith in democracy, the process, and our other elected officials.

6. Focus on the positive and what we can control

Life is going to go on. We can dwell and allow our anger and disappointment to consume us, or we can make the best of a shitty situation. I can control my response and so I am choosing to practice these six things, and focus on my journey to lose weight, live a happier and more peaceful life, and work toward my goals. Trump can’t take that away from me. People who voted for him can’t take that away from me. Only I can take that away from me by allowing negative emotions to distract me. I choose not to allow that.

Writing this post was a difficult decision because I am risking alienating or offending some of my readers. I hope you’ll understand why I chose to write this anyway, like I am choosing to attempt to understand why some people voted for Trump. This journey is one to wellness and compassion. Many of us are wounded today. I felt a personal responsibility to face this fact and to share tools for how to find peace after the election. There is a lot of hurt out there in the world today. And if I can make one single person hurt a little less, then I have succeeeded. THAT is why I chose to write this post today.

It is my deep hope that we can all move on from this and heal our wounds. We can achieve that through practicing kindness and compassion, the only cure for for our gravely ill world. If this post resonated with you at all, I ask that you PLEASE share it far and wide, so that others may be comforted by it. We all need some peace today.

I send my love to you ALL.