Bam! In the blink of an eye, the Lil' Dude is 3 year old.
And bloooob, blooob, blooob ..... the baby weight is still happy, hanging out with us.
Oh that darn thing!
I nursed him till he was almost 2. The weight came off relatively quickly (AT FIRST) until the "busy time of the year" for me at work hits. While I hustled at paperwork and reports, I also shoveled Rolos into my mouth like a champ! Oh those sweet little gold bite-sized pieces of smooth, chocolatey, sweet delight. My friend's mom said, "A moment on your lips, forever on your hips." Oh how true!!!
Fast-forward to December 2015. Busy time hit. I didn't gain weight. I lost inches. I am good. Ooh. Whatever I am doing is working. :)
I may not be obese, but I do struggle with weight, self-image ... all that things that affect women. You know --- the pooch, the saggy Bingo arms, how your clothes don't lay flat on your body, or how they ride up, or how the clothes just don't look right. That's just the aesthetic aspect.
Mentally, I was tired. I was sluggish. I was blah. I didn't sparkle like I used to. How does one sparkle when you have to tend to a toddler, to the home, to your full-time work, to other obligations? Losing sparkle was just how "the way it is." Isn't it?? All these adulting is rubbing my sparkle off.
Forget sparkling. I am surviving.
If you have been a follower of this blog, you know that I love being active. I am not actually a sedentary person. I love working up a good sweat. I love feeding my body with goodies (and some junk). Imagine how un-sparkly I was when I wasn't exercising like I ought to be and when I was just shoveling junk into my body.
Now, it is almost 4 months into my fitness routine. It has been working out pretty well so far. It is something I can do and don't mind doing.
Do I love it? No. Not all the time. However, I do look forward to it more than not.
I am not at the point where I can just let it go like Elsa. It is still a conscious effort for me. I plan my meals. I schedule my workouts. But I feel good when everything is in order. There is purpose. When I was running far and long, I have a goal every day -- 3 miles, fartlek, 10 miles, negative splits. Now, I am back to having daily goals. And I thrive when I have goals.
I am taking care of myself.
I am happier.
And you know what?
I sparkle.
I have a knack for doing things in untraditional ways. Join me as I go through life in an out-of-sequence way.
Showing posts with label confession. Show all posts
Showing posts with label confession. Show all posts
Friday, April 8, 2016
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Confession.
Attractive is being rail-skinny.
Your clavicles have to jut out.
There should be no flabby bingo arms.
In fact, twiggy arms are ideal.
When I was about 14 years old, I started eating only one meal and a snack (an apple) for the whole day. My favorite was actually not eating the entire day until dinner time at home when I kinda have to eat, or when I am out with friends.
I also experimented with diet pills and laxatives and some throwing up after meals. I also imposed weird diet restrictions, such as being a vegetarian, to make it difficult to find food to eat.
All these efforts made me pretty.
It made me a slim 100-pounder. Definitely no thigh chub-rubbing action going on there.
But I was pretty, so pretty.
Who cares if I fainted twice.
Who cares if I feel faint even while sitting down.
Fast-forward to moving to the United States and meeting my now-boyfriend.
With him, I started to eat and learned to enjoy eating.
We would cook and experiment with dishes together during college days.
I started feeding my body. I eat everyday. I eat many times a day.
I quit feeling faint.
Instead, I started feeling strong.
What is stressing me out about going home (Singapore) is my body.
When I was about 18 years old and after spending about 6 months in Europe, I came home and the first words out of my mommy's mouth were, "Oh my god. You are fat."
Now, almost every phone calls home inevitably lead to some form of "How fat are you?" or "Are you fat?"
My mother told me recently she doesn't want me fat.
Because being fat is ugly.
And she doesn't want an ugly daughter.
I know she loves me and she won't disown me because I have gained weight.
However, I know she will be disappointed to find me the weight/size I am.
Almost every trip home involves my mom's inquiries about my weight.
And almost every time at the airport, mom and dad will make a comment about how much rounder/fatter/chunkier/beefier I have gotten. In fact, I don't like having them come to the airport to pick me up anymore. It is stressful dealing with a "reverse culture shock" and I just cannot gracefully handle lamentations about my weight.
Certainly my family doesn't just comprise of my mom and dad. I have to handle weight comments from cousins and aunts and uncles.
Never mind that I am running half marathons.
Never mind that my activity level has increased since high school.
Never mind that I don't feel faint anymore.
Never mind that my life doesn't revolves around not eating and making up crazy excuses to avoid eating.
So, I am a little stress.
In fact, I purposefully avoided eating on Monday.
Nutrition on Monday consists of black coffee (no sugar, no creamer).
And somehow, I skipped eating today too. Well, I munched on some almonds to help me stay awake while I was driving.
How do I feel?
Faint. Weak. Not happy.
I skipped a workout because I just lacked the energy.
I guess, the point of this post is to let it out.
While I am definitely a healthier person, making some sound choices with food and enjoying food and being active, there's a part of me that has difficulty shaking the "past." I will always want to please my mommy. In fact, a lot of decisions that I make right now, I think about how it will affect my parents.
I am not kidding when I tell you that I did consider about not eating for 2 weeks just so I can drop some pounds.
I am not kidding when I tell you that I contemplated not going home so I don't have to deal with this weight issue.
So, I am eating tomorrow.
But that was what I told myself on Monday.
But now that I let it out, I better eat, right?
Because somehow, I have 87 followers checking on me tomorrow to make sure I eat something.
Wish me luck while I navigate through this jumble of a mess.
(p.s.: When I do become a parent, I will instill good eating habits and good activity habits in my kids. I want to run with my kids, sign them up for races, let them run amok in playgrounds and kick balls and hop and skip and swim and eat.)
Your clavicles have to jut out.
There should be no flabby bingo arms.
In fact, twiggy arms are ideal.
When I was about 14 years old, I started eating only one meal and a snack (an apple) for the whole day. My favorite was actually not eating the entire day until dinner time at home when I kinda have to eat, or when I am out with friends.
I also experimented with diet pills and laxatives and some throwing up after meals. I also imposed weird diet restrictions, such as being a vegetarian, to make it difficult to find food to eat.
All these efforts made me pretty.
It made me a slim 100-pounder. Definitely no thigh chub-rubbing action going on there.
But I was pretty, so pretty.
Who cares if I fainted twice.
Who cares if I feel faint even while sitting down.
Fast-forward to moving to the United States and meeting my now-boyfriend.
With him, I started to eat and learned to enjoy eating.
We would cook and experiment with dishes together during college days.
I started feeding my body. I eat everyday. I eat many times a day.
I quit feeling faint.
Instead, I started feeling strong.
What is stressing me out about going home (Singapore) is my body.
When I was about 18 years old and after spending about 6 months in Europe, I came home and the first words out of my mommy's mouth were, "Oh my god. You are fat."
Now, almost every phone calls home inevitably lead to some form of "How fat are you?" or "Are you fat?"
My mother told me recently she doesn't want me fat.
Because being fat is ugly.
And she doesn't want an ugly daughter.
I know she loves me and she won't disown me because I have gained weight.
However, I know she will be disappointed to find me the weight/size I am.
Almost every trip home involves my mom's inquiries about my weight.
And almost every time at the airport, mom and dad will make a comment about how much rounder/fatter/chunkier/beefier I have gotten. In fact, I don't like having them come to the airport to pick me up anymore. It is stressful dealing with a "reverse culture shock" and I just cannot gracefully handle lamentations about my weight.
Certainly my family doesn't just comprise of my mom and dad. I have to handle weight comments from cousins and aunts and uncles.
Never mind that I am running half marathons.
Never mind that my activity level has increased since high school.
Never mind that I don't feel faint anymore.
Never mind that my life doesn't revolves around not eating and making up crazy excuses to avoid eating.
So, I am a little stress.
In fact, I purposefully avoided eating on Monday.
Nutrition on Monday consists of black coffee (no sugar, no creamer).
And somehow, I skipped eating today too. Well, I munched on some almonds to help me stay awake while I was driving.
How do I feel?
Faint. Weak. Not happy.
I skipped a workout because I just lacked the energy.
I guess, the point of this post is to let it out.
While I am definitely a healthier person, making some sound choices with food and enjoying food and being active, there's a part of me that has difficulty shaking the "past." I will always want to please my mommy. In fact, a lot of decisions that I make right now, I think about how it will affect my parents.
I am not kidding when I tell you that I did consider about not eating for 2 weeks just so I can drop some pounds.
I am not kidding when I tell you that I contemplated not going home so I don't have to deal with this weight issue.
So, I am eating tomorrow.
But that was what I told myself on Monday.
But now that I let it out, I better eat, right?
Because somehow, I have 87 followers checking on me tomorrow to make sure I eat something.
Wish me luck while I navigate through this jumble of a mess.
(p.s.: When I do become a parent, I will instill good eating habits and good activity habits in my kids. I want to run with my kids, sign them up for races, let them run amok in playgrounds and kick balls and hop and skip and swim and eat.)
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