where and what on earth??? (a much needed update!)

Can you believe it??? A new blog post!!!

I’m still alive, really I am!!! (If you follow me on YouTube or social media, you might already be aware of this!) But, this blog? Oh my word. Have I ever been the most neglectful writer of life…
And my only excuse is…

FOUR KIDS & FOSTER CARE!!!
(I always wondered why more people didn’t do foster care…and then I became a foster parent. But that’s another blog post & another discussion for another time!!!)

Although I happen to know a lot of super moms with more than 4 kids, foster care, adoption and even more going on that are still able to juggle it all, the truth is, I don’t think I will ever be THAT cool. These last 8 months have been an emotional whirlwind, and while I don’t wish away the experience whatsoever, I do have to admit that now that it’s behind us, I see and appreciate the past and the present that much more.

Hindsight really is 20/20 isn’t it?

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But you guys, I can’t wait to share with you all that God did and all that God is doing, and the good news is, I will actually begin sharing it HERE once again! Now that life is calmer and more settled and my brain feels less mushy and cobwebby (new word), I am actually incredibly excited to begin writing again as well as continuing to make my videos over on my YouTube channel. I even have a really fun & exciting little project I’m working on just for you guys that I hope to have ready to go the beginning of January!

I think after all these many many years of ups and downs with my writing and my blog and trying to find my voice and a balance, I’m getting closer and closer to understanding what it is God has put on my heart to do. Maybe it’s the circumstances that have happened over these last few years, maybe it’s age and getting older, or maybe…it’s more likely the combination of both.

Either way, I’m back, and I am so excited to connect with you guys here once again!

xoxo

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God won’t give you more than you can handle

morethanwecanhandle

It’s no secret that I’ve had my fair share of struggles throughout my life…

Divorce.
Rape.
Death.
Depression.
Anxiety.
Loss.

I remember each of those moments or times in my past with such a vivid memory, that tears still come to my eyes when I fully allow myself to sit with the pain I had to endure. Because, truly, how does anyone ever forget the times they cried the most honest and heartfelt tears of their life?

And in many of those struggles, I would often hear what I imagine people meant to be comforting words,

God won’t give you more than you can handle…so know that He must really believe that you are incredibly strong!

And while I longed to find the comfort in that, the truth was, I wasn’t strong…I was weak and afraid, angry and broken. And I knew that I was most definitely was not strong enough to get through the pain I was experiencing…

If you’d like to read more, I invite you to finish the rest of this post today over at The Better Mom.

 
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learning how to write again

I’ve been at this blog thing for quite a long time. What started as way to write, years later has turned into something far greater than I ever expected. And I don’t mean that in terms of page views, readers, or even SEO. You see, I simply wanted to write. I’ve always felt and said that in order to breathe, to think, to be…I just needed to write. Writing was my exhale.

businesswoman with a note-book

And for years I’d found comfort in the pages of my journals, processing through my parents divorce, rape, death, broken friendships, broken dreams, heartbreaking decisions and painful relationships…as well as celebrating the joys, the lessons, the wisdom and the strength that stood out through it all. Allowing my pen to spill the stories, the feelings, and the memories, gave words to so much that I found I was never able to speak out loud.

Inside it was just a hurricane of emotions, but on paper, it would suddenly make sense. And only once that it was written, was I able to find the courage and the words to speak.

Starting my blog… It was because I deeply longed to write and have it be…less lonely, I suppose. I never had expectations of how many readers, or comments, or page views, or even had any comprehension of SEO or Google Page Ranking. I simply wanted to share publicly the echos of my journals in hopes that maybe there were others who connected and needed to feel less alone in it as well.

*******

And as things happen over time, things changed.
Blogs changed.
Blogging changed.
And I changed.

I looked around and quickly noticed I wasn’t enough.
I compared…too much, and then suddenly I found myself joining the race and dancing the dance. I tried to put on the costume and act the part, doing all that I felt I was supposed to. I attempted to look like everyone else, all the while longing for the simplicity of what it had all begun as for me.

Still though, I shared my life, joys and struggles…but as I’d close the laptop each time, I noticed that I was feeling even lonelier than before the blog had ever begun. Writing was no longer what it once had been to me…and it no longer soothed me the way I had always known and needed.

I was trying to play by the rules and keep up, and it simply wasn’t working for me. Here I was totally exposed yet incredibly alone, and I found myself beginning to resent writing for causing such a struggle.

It was when an opportunity to submit a book proposal to an agent who had hope for me and my ideas, a lifelong dream of mine, seemed to stop me in my tracks. My excitement was quickly replaced with feeling paralyzed by the task of having to include my reach, my numbers and ultimately what felt so much like my “worth.”

I compared, I fell short, and in that, I lost my ability to write.

Ironically, it took until this last writing sabbatical, weeks of not writing…for me to find the truth in all this. To find the reason behind my resistance. It’s as though God stepped in and put a firm halt to the dog and pony show and said, “Stop this. This isn’t who I created you to be. This isn’t what I’ve asked you to do. You are not them. You are you, the you I created with my own hands just I needed you to be, and just because it maybe doesn’t look like what the rest of them are doing, doesn’t make what I have for you wrong. It doesn’t make you not enough. You are enough. My plan is enough. Trust me.”

“They” say to know my page views, and not only know it, but strive for more. I should create titles and topics and keywords that have something to do with SEO, and then promote and get others to promote so that page rank or something like that gets me further up the blogging chain. Clickable links, pinnable pictures, weekly memes, link ups, not too much of this, but just enough of that…

I’m not trying in any way to say all of that is wrong. It works for SO many. It helps to get your message out. And that can be amazing, especially when ultimately the message is about Him. (the Lord)

But I now understand and fully embrace that it is not all about that for me.
Before anything, I simply come to write.

And so from this moment on, whether it makes sense or not, or follows successful blogging protocol or not…simply writing is what I must get back to doing.

All the rest I joyfully place in God’s ever so capable hands, right where it belonged from the beginning. I’m learning how to write again…

I’m learning to write again…

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an elevator pitch…if we were stuck in one

“A place to say, ‘me too’…”

{My blog’s tagline}

I share all that I share, in part, because it’s therapy to me.
It helps me to breathe, to think, to feel and to process.
It helps me understand me.
It helps me to understand the One who made me.

But I continue to share all that I share, even more, because of YOU.

All my life I have felt so alone, and as though I never really fit in anywhere or with anyone.
It’s a struggle I still battle.

But that lie, that deep seeded wound inside, heals just a little more each time I get an email or a comment or a word from one of you, saying… “Me too, Summer….me too.”
And we connect.
We accept.
We understand.
And though we’ve maybe never met, we love.

elevator pitch

The truth is, we are all struggling with something.
And if you aren’t now, you will be soon.

It’s just life.

But there is just something…almost heavenly, when you share the depths of your soul and your heart and all the good and bad and funny and odd, and there is someone who looks you in your eyes and agrees.

They just get it.

What incredible freedom there is in acceptance and love and understanding.

I’ve had to check myself, a lot…but here is what I know is true:
I truly don’t come here to feed my ego.
I don’t promote this blog or my YouTube channel simply to be known and to get ahead.

I do all of this because, by saying  and hearing “me too,” we are given a little glimpse of what heaven must feel like.

That’s what it is, that’s why it feels so good!!!

It’s not about flattery or egos or being narcissitic, it’s about experiencing a glimpse of what it would be like to show up in heaven one day, falling to our knees at the overwhelming and undeserving love and acceptance of our Savior.

And when we get a taste of it here on earth, it’s just…right.
That’s what this is all about.

And so I share.
And sometimes nobody says anything and that’s okay, because it’s not always about me. (hard lesson for a middle child.)
But in the times someone does, it’s even more confirmed that I am doing exactly what God has asked me to do.

I am not perfect.
I am such a sinner, and I battle my thoughts and desires EVERY SINGLE DAY.
I have a past, and a present, and a future…all full of mistakes.
I am not one to be admired, praised or loved the most.
I don’t have all the answers or wisdom, but I’m always willing to say… “Here! Feel a tiny amount of what heaven must be like! Isn’t it lovely? Now run to Jesus, because His wisdom and answers hold the healing that you’ve been looking for!”

I pray that in all my sharing…
and in all your sharing…
We can be the heart of Jesus.
And in that, allow others to get excited about WHO is He really is and what eternity with Him is all about.

{I have a feeling this is too long for a quick elevator ride/pitch.  Work in progress….}

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how much do we really have in common?

If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been trying to balance my time between writing/blogging and working on my video skills over on YouTube.

Sometimes, I just find it so much easier to write it all out…and then sometimes I just want to not think and simply talk.

I love it here, and I love it there.
It’s like me, all balanced out.

Sooooo…..today I’m sharing my latest video: 50 Random Facts
Yes, they are random and  I’m pretty sure only Jimmy would know all 50…

So watch on, and count how many “me too’s” we get!
Let’s find out just how much we really do have in common!!!

{btw. subscribing to my channel feels like a hug. and i LOVE hugs. So lets hug? Just click on the video and you’re on your way!}

~ MY LATEST VIDEOS ~
Your TOP TEN Fall Essentials, A collab project!
August Favorites
July Favorites Part I
July Favorites Part II

As always, please please let me know what videos you want to see next!
~~~~~~~

While I LOVE beauty, health, and all things related, more than anything my heart and soul belongs to Jesus! This quote expresses exactly what I hope shines more than anything:

“Like Paul and every other believer, my life is no longer my own. The focus must not be on me, but on Christ. When someone hears from me publicly, I want it all to point to Him.”
{quote from John MacArthur}

~~~~~~~

love you guys!!!
xoxo, Summer

Music credit: Helen Austin (with permission!)

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anxiety… an update

As most of you know, for years I have battled anxiety.
And it’s been exactly that.
A complete and utter battle.

I’ve been struggling to understand it, accept it, face it, and especially to fight it.
I’ve taken medicine, tried natural approaches, sought therapy, and pleaded day and night on my knees that God would simply take it all away.
Yet still it remained.

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About 2 years ago, I resigned that this was just how I was, and I had to accept that I would forever need a “little helper” to keep the terror of anxiety away.
And honestly, I truly was okay with that.
I needed to be present for my husband.
For my children.
For my life.
And if medicine granted me all of that, I would gladly accept the blessing.

It was about a year after getting back on my “happy pills,” that I went to see an Integrative Doctor for some health issues I was having with my gallbladder and liver. Before my first appointment they sent me to have my blood work done, which consisted of (at least) EIGHT vials of blood. This was so they could see, in every way, exactly what was happening within my body.

When I later sat in my doctors office (which felt more like a room at a spa) for my first visit, she sweetly explained that I was desperately unbalanced in the hormone department.
(pretty sure my husband could have confirmed that!)
Basically, my hormone levels were that of a POST menopausal woman!!!
It was no surprise to her that I was battling unexplained anxiety and depression.

Long story short, we first tried to change my levels with diet and supplements.
I went every month for blood work and after a few months with no change, she suggested I try BioIdentical Hormones.
She seemed sure that in just a matter of days of taking the hormones I needed (made perfectly for me in a compounding pharmacy) that I would feel better than I had in years.
It worked that quickly.
She even suggested that when I felt comfortable, I could probably go off my medicine and be completely free of anxiety.

I was all about taking the hormones.
I was NOT all about discontinuing my happy pills.

It’s now a year later.
And let me just tell you, the hormones are seriously a GIFT FROM GOD!!!
My doctor was right, in just days I felt more like the me I used to be.
But even with the positive changes, I still clung to the security of my medicine.

….Until God decided it was time to take me out of my comfort zone.
On a 7 day missions trip with Taylor to the Dominican Republic, in blazing hot weather and humidity…I found that I had completely forgotten to pack my medicine.

It was on that trip, that I realized I had nothing to depend on for comfort and healing except God.
And you have no idea the death grip I had for Him that week.
But you know what?
I got through it.
No anxiety.
No panic.
No depression.

And when I got home, I decided to take only half of my prescribed medicine just to see if I would still be okay.
Again, I was totally fine.

My eyes were off of me.
I was clinging to Him.
Daily I listed my blessings.
Daily I looked to how I could serve Him.

Then it came time for my second trip to the D.R.
On only half my prescription, once again I survived being even more out of my comfort zone than ever.

I experienced sadness and heartbreak and poverty beyond what I thought I could ever handle.
And yet, I survived.

In the moments where I would have thought I would need medicine more than ever, I realized that I instead needed HIM more than ever.

For whatever reason, in the midst of a dirty sticky heartbreaking world, I felt healed.
And when I got home, I once again decided to go to half of my half, a mere quarter of what I had been initially prescribed.
I had always been on the lowest dose of the medicine, but now I was on a quarter.

And I was good.
Happier even.

Over the next month, I went to a quarter every other day to eventually not at all.
And God continues to sustain me.

I don’t know what exactly is different.
Maybe it’s the bioidentical hormones.
Maybe it’s this new place of surrender to the Lord and what He has for me.

Whatever it is, I accept the gift for as long as I have it.

And I suppose that’s why I’ve hesitated in writing this post…
for some odd “knock on wood” reason.
There’s the fear that the moment I share that I’m doing better, will be the moment the anxiety returns.

But, I know that isn’t the Lord.
That’s not how He works.
And that’s not how I write.

I write my heart.
I write my life.
I write what is true of the moment, so that I can learn and heal, and in the process prayerfully help someone else out there do the same.

And, at THIS moment… I am free.

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hope when purity is stolen: my story

hopewhenpurityisstolen

i was 14.

a freshman.
young and naive and scared because my life at home was torn and broken.

i was a christian, yet incredibly confused because it seemed i couldn’t find God’s face no matter how hard i tried.
i felt so alone and there was a crowd that seemed to be happy and free and not at all scared to be who they were.
i went to that crowd, and i quickly bent to the things they were doing.

i was 14.
a virgin.
there with that crowd.
at a party with kids a lot older and sadly for them, a lot more experienced than me.
i went alone, and found myself alone…and for the first time of my life, not at all sober.

i asked him to stop.
the room was spinning.
i begged him to go.
the tears were falling.
i told him how God would be so mad at me if he did this, “just please please stop!!!”
i cried, sobbing the word “no” over and over again…until I lost hope and no longer felt a part of the experience.
and when he was done and before the door was closed, all I heard was,
“don’t leave this room.”
and with the click of the door, my life was changed.

~~~~~~

I spent my childhood/teenage years dreaming of my wedding, of my happily ever after, and in those dreams I knew that on my wedding night I would be pure.

It’s what I was taught.
It’s what my faith, as loose as I held it then, showed me was the right thing to do.
And I believed that I was going to be that good girl.

And when suddenly that gift I wanted to give was stolen from me, I was left with a whole lot of nothing.
I felt I was nothing.
Because he saw me as nothing.
He stole from me so much more than my virginity.

It’s amazing what a moment will do.
How it can make you so small, so broken, so dirty, so incredibly insignificant…
worth absolutely nothing.

And because I didn’t have godly women/mentors to speak into my life at that time, I had nobody to stop me from walking into even more pain.

You see, I stopped caring.
Nobody had been there to save me.
Nobody was there to stand up for me.
Nobody stopped what was so obviously happening, and now?

God was mad at me.

You can never imagine that kind of shame.

In my eyes, I was used goods.
Broken.
Nothing.
What could I ever possibly offer my husband one day?
And so, I loosened my grip on my faith even more, and instead sought out to make right of what had been so wrong.

My first time had been an experience of hell.
And I was determined that from then on, I would be in charge of every time after that.
So for years, I offered myself when it “felt right.”
Feeling worthless, in hopes that when it was over, somehow that feeling of meaning…of worth… would return.

It never did.

Instead, I would curl up in a ball and sob uncontrollably.
Aching for my mistakes, knowing it wasn’t right, and then continuing to feel as though there was nothing else I could possibly do.

In my broken cloudy mind, I couldn’t see the truth.

~~~~~~~

“Born again virgin.”

We hear it said often now.
But it was something nobody had ever explained to me then.

Even so, had it been shared, I’m not entirely sure it would have been enough to stop me from my destructive behaviors.

What I needed to be told is what I’m sharing with you now.

You are so much more.
YOU, who may feel so broken, so unworthy, so dirty and used…
ARE SO MUCH MORE.

And here is why.

Our incredible Creator, the one who hung the stars and spoke majestic mountains into place, thought enough of you to breathe life into your very being.

Think about that.

Think about how carefully and thoughtfully an artist creates a masterpiece.

You are his masterpiece.
You are worthy.

Not a single person, or a single experience can ever EVER change that.

Those times you may have messed up, or were tragically hurt and used…
He was there with you.
Crying with you.
Longing for you to reach out to him so he could hold you and heal you.

You have a choice.
You can walk the sinful path I did, which caused me and so many others incredible pain.

Or you can run to the forgiving and healing arms of your Heavenly Father.

Those thoughts of “What could I possibly have to offer someone someday, when I am so dirty… so used… so broken…” are thoughts from the enemy.

You are more than just a gift of Purity.
You are God’s chosen person.
You are his masterpiece.
You have value and are worthy because Christ died and made it so.

No matter what may have caused you to stumble, fight against the lies you hear, and cling with all your strength instead to what is true.

And the truth is, in Him, you will be completely cleansed and restored.

“…having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish.” Ephesians 5:25-27

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just, and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” 1 John 1:9

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There are other incredible women and authors sharing their stories and wisdom on purity. I encourage to you spend some time really meditating on this issue, and finding even more truth for you to put on and wear daily.

Head here for the complete list.

PurityLarge

© 2013 “Le Musings of Moi”

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addressing narcissism: the untold story of my blog

narcissism

“…bloggers really are just…narcissistic…” I heard her say.

And I felt a slight sting somewhere inside me, yet I tried not to react.

i’m just too sensitive…

don’t be too much drama…

And then a short time later I came across this comment, “I believe that when each and every blogger delves deeper, you’ll likely find that sharing in this manner is, in a sense, a cry for attention. If it really were all about the writing, why share it publicly? Granted, popularity may not be the main reason, but I think it’s also unrealistic to dismiss that’s a reason behind why you write publicly.”

I know I’m sensitive, and I know there is a story behind what was said, and likely it all comes from a good place…

So let me share as well, the story behind me…

| Addressing Narcissism |

The story I have yet to share…
Because if you knew me as my husband and close friends do, and you knew my heart and my story, you’d see that I too, come from a good place. And it’s not the place you think.

~~~~~~~

Though I hate the memory, 5 years ago I suddenly began suffering through debilitating anxiety after helping to care for my grandpa in his last days of cancer.

All this followed a long two years of postpartum depression after Taylor was born, and it was the first anxiety I’d ever experienced in my life, and it was awful.

Horrible.

An actual living nightmare, and like nothing I could ever explain, or want to explain, or ever want to feel at that level again in my whole life.

And in that time of my life, I felt so incredibly lost and alone.
Absolutely nobody understood my darkness.

My friends had faded away, though they had tried, they simply didn’t know how to help.
My husband remained, yet unreachable…as he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t help.

I stopped reaching out.
And so I remained deathly afraid.
Fearfully alone.
And I wondered if God would ever pull me out the nightmare I was living.

“… The lights go out all around me
One last candle to keep out the night
And then the darkness surrounds me
I know I’m alive
But I feel like I died
And all that’s left is to accept that it’s over
My dreams ran like sand through the fists that I made
I try to keep warm but I just grow colder
I feel like I’m slipping away
*Beauty from Pain lyrics*

I couldn’t sleep.
I couldn’t read books.
I didn’t want to talk.
Even T.V. made me feel unsettled.

And so I passed the painful time on my phone playing mindless games to keep me distracted from the anxious thoughts that threatened to steal everything.

I’d spend hours searching for things online just to keep from realizing how slowly time was creeping by.

And then somehow I came across a blog.

I’d never read one before, but was intrigued that people were just putting their private journaling thoughts out there for everyone to read.
…and judge, so I would later learn.

And as I read, I learned that she too suffered with anxiety.
like mine…
She too, had felt depression.
like mine…
She wrote of things I understood, the exact things I was living in that very moment.
It was as though, sometimes, she even wrote what I hadn’t even been able to make sense of myself yet.

And beyond that, she made me laugh.
Out loud.
I didn’t believe that would ever happen again.
Truthfully, I hadn’t even smiled in over a month.

Not to my husband.
Not to my son.
Not even to myself.
But there I was, waking up my husband at night….with laughter.
And as he awoke to hear me retell the story that had brought me joy, I felt warmth in my soul for the first time in a long time.

Ultimately, that feeling was a blessing from God.
But, I also know that this blog I’d found?
Was His personal gift to me.
It was a tiny little step towards healing.
A tiny little step towards hope.

And it all happened because I had found someone who got me.

So when I hear opinions and comments such as the ones above, this is immediately where my heart goes.

I reluctantly remember that scared and hurting girl curled into a ball on her couch sobbing…clutching her Bible and praying for strength just to get through even the next five minutes.

I think of that girl and I thank my sweet Jesus that he gave the guts to Alice to share her life, her thoughts, her issues, and especially her humor so that I could have that moment to hold on to.

So that, when things got better and then got hard again, I could go back and remember…
I’m not alone.

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{this picture made her day.  okay.  mine too.}

And as I came out of that time in my life, I remembered the final lyrics of what had become my theme song:

“My whole world is the pain inside me
The best I can do is just get through the day
When life before is only a memory
I wonder why God lets me walk through this place
And though I can’t understand why this happened
I know that I will when I look back someday
And see how you’ve brought beauty from ashes
And made me as gold purified through these flamesAfter all this has passed
I still will remain
After I’ve cried my last
There’ll be beauty from pain
Though it won’t be today
Someday I’ll hope again
And there’ll be beauty from pain
You will bring beauty from my pain”
*Beauty from Pain*

And suddenly, I knew I too needed to blog.
I no longer felt it was okay for me to keep my struggles and lessons to myself in a journal.

God needed to create Beauty from my Pain.

He didn’t intend for us to live alone.
He didn’t intend for us to suffer alone.
And He didn’t intend for us to learn His lessons alone.

~~~~~~~

I have a folder in my email account.

In it are all the emails from women who, over the years, have shared their hearts and their lives and their struggles.
Women who thought they were alone had nobody who understood.

I read and re-read them and pray for them.
Some I still keep in touch with.
Some are now my closest friends.

I keep those emails not to pat myself on the back for a job well done, but to remind myself how God is absolutely at work.
And so that when I get discouraged by judgements or distracted by shiny things, I can glance through that folder and remember… it’s not about me.

~~~~~~~

I’m a writer and I’m sensitive, and it’s exactly how God created me to be.
I think and connect with others, with myself even, through written words.
This is just me.

And I get not everyone understands me, and that’s okay.
But what I desire you to grasp is why I have this blog.
It’s not for attention.
And not to make it all about me.

{although I have been distracted here and there along the way.}

But where I am now, honestly??
I now pray with each blog I post, that when all is said and done and you walk away from here, rather than it being me you think about, instead it’s become HIM.

Writing is my passion.
Jesus is my passion.
Ministry is my passion.
This blog allows me to tie it all together.

~~~~~~~

© 2012 “Le Musings of Moi”

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the story behind me (lit-rally) and day 4

I thought I might share a little of my past history, and how it all led up to giving Tracy’s 30 Day Method my all.
If you really want to go back and get deep with me, here’s some reading so ya fully get my “issues.”  
It’ll be like a fun little therapy sesh, ya?
{in order}
But, if you’re not into back reading, or doing therapy with me, then here’s the short version.
In the midst of struggling with some serious body issues and after trying every workout known to man, I happened upon Tracy Anderson on Oprah.  (who’s with me?!?)
I was stunned and in love and ab.so.lu.tely wanted mah, mah, mah.  
{that’s more, more, more with a southern accent} 
I instantly bought her Mat & Dance Workout and worked that magic every single day.  I was hooked from the first moment, and should have absolutely been happy with my results.  I am 5’6 and was able to stay between 122-125 pounds.
But, I had issues.  
You can read more about them in those posts I linked to, but basically, it was a bit of body dismorphia.  Though I was at a healthy weight, I was miserable.  I would cry because I worked out so much and just wasn’t seeing the results I needed.  Only, the results I “needed” weren’t really healthy.  
Or realistic.  
I compared myself to other people, friends, celebrities, the girl in the grocery line, and then inside my head I would stack myself up against them.  And because I saw things in a skewed way, I always fell short.  My thighs still touched, my belly has a soft roundness to it rather than a concave look….It was miserable.  I was miserable.
I was constantly counting calories.
And then discouragement would set in when the scale wouldn’t tip below 120….(which was a goal because I wanted “flex” room to gain weight)….and so I would go on a little junk food binge, thinking “well, I’m already big, why not enjoy it?”  I wouldn’t go to too crazy, but a few bowls of sugar cereal and piece of chocolate cake may have happened a few times.  Or not.  And it may have followed cheese pizza and breadsticks.  Maybe.  
I had been weighing in daily, allowing my weight to determine whether I would be happy that day or not….and 9 times out of 10, it wasn’t what I wanted, and I’d get off the scale in tears.
Finally a year ago on my 31st birthday, I hit I guess what you’d call my rock bottom.  
I’d been having a pity party all morning and afternoon dreading my party because I would be eating out and unable to count calories.  And then I started to think ahead to the holidays (which are after my birthday), wondering how one earth I’d be able to resist all the food and sweets they’d have to offer? {I’ve never been one to say no to sweets….and then especially not the one to say no to the three or four or ten after}  I’d surely become fat and disgusting…
 I laid in bed most of that day and just cried.  I absolutely sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.  
{and I may have had an amazing box of Vons chocolate chip cookies with me.  And okay, maybe pizza too.}  
But when my tears had cried out all the pain I’d been carrying over the years, something within me became determined.
This had to change.  
I had kids.
I especially had to think of my daughter, who would be learning from me…watching me.
I had to step up, take responsibility and do the work to get better.  
I was NOT going to continue on this way.
So, I called a counselor and made my first appointment for January and began the process towards growth and healing.
It took a lot of work. 
I read a lot of books (which are in my previous posts), did a lot of praying, and had a lot of people pray for me.
The change was gradual.
I’d notice little things here and there, but it wasn’t until October that I finally just let it all go.
I stopped counting calories.  I stopped working out.  And I ate.  Whatever I wanted, and I didn’t care.
I saw my muscles turn soft, and my thighs and tummy fill out.  I saw cellulite in places I never knew it could exist, and I really didn’t care.
I didn’t cry.  I didn’t weigh myself.  I didn’t think I was disgusting and stay in bed…
I was totally okay.  
I was happy, despite my body!
And that is HUGE for me, you guys.  
What may seem so normal to you was a turning point for me.
And while I am still happy….I finally came to realize enough was enough.
And that was about the time that my fat pants stopped fitting, and my underarm skin started to wave when I really never meant to say hi.  
But more than anything, I just started to feel yuk.  
I wasn’t comfortable in my skin, and for once, it had nothing to do with a number on the scale.  
That’s when I decided I was ready to do the 30 Day Method.  
Because after eating all of the DANGER foods to my hearts content and not working out a lick, I realized it wasn’t really what I wanted.  
Who’d have thought that gluttony isn’t all that great at the end of the day?
{oh ya, think that was Jesus…}  
Or two to three months in my case.  
I knew that giving up that stuff wouldn’t be a sacrifice, because I was over. it.  
Mah-jor.
{what’s up with this short version turning into a novel?!?  I mean, my word!}
Anyway, I could go into A LOT more detail, but I’m thinking I should save it for my memoir. 
{you’ll buy it, won’t you?} 
I think you get the point anyway.
Let’s get to Day 4….and I really will try to make this short.
I took all three supplements!  
Think I’m getting the hang of it.
I’ll only report from now on if I don’t.
Food:
Woke up a little light headed and actually had to open the fridge and sit on the ledge for a moment.  {can’t be hot flashes yet!}  
So, I decided I needed to eat breakfast pronto.  Fresh berries: strawberries, blueberries, and pomegranate seeds.  
To die for.  
Snack was amazing.  And it was really hard to stop and save some for the afternoon, but I did…because I care about metabolism.  I just do.
Lunch was exactly what I needed, and super easy to make, and I did it ALL BY MYSELF!  
{usually Jimmy helps me, I can’t even make a grilled cheese!}
And then dinner was absolutely incredible!  And incredibly small…
I’m pretty sure I can never eat chicken without mango and tomatoes ever again.  So good.  Mmmm mmmm mmmmm.
The hunger was present at times throughout the day, but nothing that turned my mood, which is step in the right direction.  
Hanger is not attractive.
Workout:
Once again, I didn’t wake up sore, so I decided today was the day I would up the reps to 40.  The first side was manageable, the second side took some determination.  And then, again, I did the arm section twice.  For cardio, I did the book sequences on the trampoline, and then the Thanksgiving Cardio twice on the ground.  Holy hardness. {that’s what she said.}  I decided that since my legs seemed all confused yesterday, it might be better to show them what’s up on the same day.  How’s THAT for muscle confusion?!?
I’d say the workout totaled 1 hour 45 minutes, which is my max time frame, as Chloe was awake and in my way the last 15 minutes…
So instead of adding reps, I’ll have to add ankle weights instead.
So far I have COMPLETELY stuck by the rules with no cheats or additional bites or unsupposed to drinks.
And it feels OH so good.
I just want to prove to myself that I can finish something I start.
That I am stronger than I give myself credit for.
That I am worth 30 days of getting clean and healthy.
Without ever once allowing numbers to trip me up!
And besides, Tracy IS the boss of me, so what she says goes.
So excited that you guys are here reading and some of you even (love ya Robyn!) are doing it with me…and I’m just so so in love with every last one of you for all your support!  
Mmmmmmmmmwwwwwwwwaaaaa!
Smackin’ it to ya.
My word, I’m wordy tonight.
{tomorrow I have some snazzy tips for ya…should most def. be helpful!}
….and because I feel this was a bit heavy, maybe you should read this post for a laugh.
© 2010 “Le Musings of Moi”
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wide open spaces

To catch up, read Part 1…and Part 2:
I gave my notice on my apartment and my job, and moved in with a friend for a month to save some money.
I continued to live my lifestyle, but I knew that once I got to California things were going to change. I would get personal with God again, I would give up partying, I would make friends who had depth and quality. Friends I actually chose to be friends with, friends I hoped would become like family.
And then I got a phone call from my step dad a week before we were to all move. He asked me if I was sitting. Then he told me the job fell through. They weren’t going after all. They were staying in B town.
My heart sank.
Yet, the words I had written that emotional night still clung to my soul. I was getting out. I was leaving all my hurt, pain, and bad choices behind me.
I knew one guy in California. He had been a waiter and an aquaintance at the local Red Robin, and I remember him mentioning he was going to California to manage a restaurant there. So, I took a chance and called his restaurant and explained my situation. I asked if he was hiring and if he happened to know anyone who needed a roommate. He told me to come on down, he would help me set it all up, and I could crash on his couch for a month until I got settled.
He was the only one I knew there, but that was enough for me.
And so, a week later….with my Honda Accord packed to the roof, I said yet another goodbye to my family. And this time I knew I wouldn’t be going back.
I was going to start over. I was leaving all the bad choices and memories, the hurt and the pain….
I would miss my family…but I needed my smile. I needed my laugh. I needed happiness. And it had been years since I seen any of it in B town.
I put on the Dixie Chicks, Wide Open Spaces, and sang my theme song all the way to California.
My dreams were coming true.
© 2009 “Le Musings of Moi”
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It means so much that you are here! I know life gets busy though, so if you don't want to miss a thing, I invite you to subscribe to my blog through email!