Two months.

Two months. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a full two months, but it was pretty close.

I found a guy that I liked; well I didn’t exactly find him… I just got the nerve to do something about it—two months ago. I stood up for myself, but was asked to wait. I like to view myself as a reasonable person, so I agreed. I agreed to wait. Now, don’t go telling me that that was dumb. Don’t tell me that I shouldn’t have waited because I refuse to believe that. I fully believe that I did what I needed to do, and here is why.

I am impatient. Well, I thought I was impatient. I am the type of woman who wants what she wants—now. But I waited. Now, I’m not a good waiter and these two months of waiting have taught me a few things.

1. I don’t mind the wait, but only texting is what scares me. There is something about phone conversations, or simple face-to-face interactions that calm the nerves. I guess you can say I haven’t had the best luck with only texting, but that is a story for another time and place.
2. I used to believe that I wasn’t a fan of “nicknames.” This is false. When the right guy calls me a name that makes me smile, then it’s okay.
3. I am perfectly able to stand up for myself. A few people have seen my stumble with this concept over the past few months, but I did it. And I feel good about that. This reaffirms that I will never be a woman who loses her power to an undeserving man.
4. I’ve also gained a deeper understanding of what I need from a man. A list of wants and needs in a man is not good to have, but I understand what would fit best with me. I’ll be honest, I will certainly need a strong (mentally, not physically) man to balance with my hard-headedness.
I am a strong believer of having no regrets. Everything happens for a reason, so I’ve just decided to find the silver lining and blessings in disguise now, instead of later. I will admit that part of me is sad for a lot of reasons that I don’t want to share, but what good will that do? Not much. There is no need to wallow what never was.

What I will do is share some song lyrics. (They don’t necessarily reflect how I feel, just some songs that have been rolling around on my head and playing on my iPod)

It's gonna be a hard row, but it'll be worth it
'Cause I know, underneath the surface
What's a-waiting if you dig a little deeper down
Keep doin' what you're doin', patiently
'Cause nothin' worth growin' comes easily
Lovin' me's gonna be like workin' unbroken ground.
- Gary Nichols—Unbroken Ground


Washed away the pain
and made me new
What an unlikely angel
sacrificing all she can
what an unlikely angel
for an undeserving man.
- Jason Jones—Unlikely Angel


Well everything changes baby,
Ain't nothin' in this whole wide world ever stays the same.
Your future plans were nothin' but sunny days,
And now you're standing out in the pouring rain.
Well how could anyone pick up your heart,
Just to watch it fall?
And that lighthouse that stood on the hill for you,
Now don't shine no light at all.
- The Great Divide—Break in the Storm

Well, this has been a long entry for me, so I’m going to get on with it! Thank you for reading and I look forward to hearing from you.

Survival of the fittest.

It’s human nature to want to be the strongest. I guess its natures law—Survival of the Fittest. Not literally (well, sometimes literally), but mostly mentally. We want to have everything together and to be sure of ourselves. Even in the moments when we share our weaknesses, we feel a sense of strength. We tell ourselves that our ability to share the weak is still strength. And when we hide the weak, we feel strong because no one knows better.

Why? Yes, saying we are programmed to be strong and amazing (yes—we are amazing) is an easy way out of explaining things, but it’s not the truth. Why do we care so much about being the strongest, the best and essentially untouchable.

I’m not speaking down on those who do this because I am the epitome of this. I don’t like being viewed as weak and I attempt to be the best. And you may not see this, but I had wished I was untouchable. I hate the pain of being hurt and the vulnerability of putting myself out there.

This is one thing I slowly see changing. I am no longer constantly viewed as happy, bubbly Ashley and more people know about how I feel. I guess this blog has helped me in this. As I get more comfortable in my writing and I get less skittish about talking about things, I can feel I’m growing.

I know I have my own unique strength. I know I’ve built walls around certain parts of my, but as I get stronger those walls are slowing coming down. I imagine those old school cobble stones that have built walls inside of me, and I see each one slowly coming down. Instead of walls, they are forming one heck of a foundation. I’m not sure what the foundation is for, but I’m happy to know it there.

I’m happy to know that the smile that lights up my face is becoming more genuine. I’ve gotten to the point that I will look in the mirror and be caught off guard. I am stunned by the smile that has been gracing my face lately. There is something comforting about seeing a genuine smile, especially when that smile is your own. Instead of seeing tired eyes and a force grin, I see a smile of pure joy. I see happiness and strength—something I wasn’t fully aware that I was missing.

So, I want to know… why are you strong? I know you are strong; we all are, but why? What walls do you have and what part of you do you strive to keep untouchable? And most importantly… what does your smile mean? Are you guarded or happy?

Appearance.

As I was sitting in the airport waiting to board my flight home, this girl sat in the chair next to me. She had to be in middle school and she reminded me of someone. Her all black clothing, carefully chosen “I don’t care what you think” backpack and need to listen to music reminded me all too well of the girl I used to be me. I’ll admit that I went through a punk or whatever phase when I was younger. I’m certain my parents and family are distinctively happy that it was just that—a phase.


Regardless, this miniature reflection of the girl I used to be has brought something huge to my attention… I have changed. I know I’ve been constantly evolving into the woman (okay, not quite a woman—but I am getting there) that I am today. I think the biggest change has been the pride I’ve taken in my appearance.

I used to not care about what I wore or how I looked. I’d say college was a turning point, but not THE turning point. It wasn’t until this whole weight loss journey began that I truly started to give a shit—to put it frankly.

This change hasn’t been a welcome one for the bank account, but it’s been amazing for the soul. There is something liberating about knowing that this shirt is not a t-shirt, and that I couldn’t fit into this size of shorts a year ago. Something strangely exciting about giving away the clothes that I wore in comfort because they kinda slide off my hips.

The weirdest thing is the fact that I am actually taking care of the assets I had all along. My hair is not always in a pony tail and my face is actually treated with care. I’m getting better about liking my hair how it falls and doing the infamous “run my hand through my hair like I don’t care” trick that they do in movies. I’ve become a fan of Mary Kay and I’m far less likely to just pick up anything.

I actually care now, and this is something that I can hardly believe. Though most people view caring about your looks as a hassle, I love it. Because finally I see myself as worthy. I view myself as good enough to take the time to look good. I matter, and so does how I look… you know, in a good way.

Your words.

When it became “real” that I was going to actually get the Lapband, I decided to keep this blog. I wanted a record of what I was going through in the event that someone accused me of going about weight loss the wrong way. I have since learned that there is no “wrong way” to lose weight, there is just the right way for YOU. And the blog has become more of a log; it has become the play that I visit for a reminder of how far I have come.


The strangest part of this blog has been the following I seemed to have accumulated. My list of “Readers” only says fourteen (who’s counting?), but the support I’ve received has been overwhelming. So overwhelming that I don’t have a clue what to do with.

Each time I get a comment, message or a kind word—I kind of freeze. I’m used to being in the spotlight for school stuff, but nothing as personal as this. I don’t mind sharing my heart or emotions, but the whole thing is slightly foreign.

Even more foreign when people seem to admire me for what I am doing. I don’t feel as if I am any different than anyone. We all have things in our lives that we fight and we overcome—I am no different. The only difference is that I seemed to have put myself in the spotlight. I did not expect to actually be in this spotlight, I just expected for my words to reach those who needed it.

Even though this whole thing has greatly shocked me, I have been blessed. It may boggle my mind that each of you has taken the time to share your kind words, but it also serves as an immense blessing. I have been bad in replying because it has taken me a long time to see myself worthy of your words. As I continue on this journey, I lean on your encouragement more.

Each word you have shared with me has given me extra fuel to succeed. Thank you for your continued support; you have all been a blessing to me.

God bless you all.

Why?

So, today I spoke with my telephone coach. I have been blessed to become a part of a service called “Healthy Roads” and every two weeks I talk to my coach. We set goals and talk about what I am doing right and wrong.

Today our conversation led to “Why do I want to be healthy?"

My first thought was not to avoid illness. It was not to be skinny. It was not to live longer. It was nothing along those lines, but something deeper.

I want to be healthy so I can be a mom. I’m not saying that I want to have a kid today, or tomorrow, not even in the foreseeable future. But I want to be healthy enough that when the time comes, I can be a mom. I want to be able to go through things normally and to be at peace with my body.

With that you can say that once I am a mom I want to be able to run around with my kids and place hide and seek… All those little things that healthy people do better.


So there you have it… My why, which is sometimes more important than the how.

This is my mom and I! No, I'm not this tall! Just standing on a step higher than her :)

Still alive.

I've been a terrible blogger lately, but here's a picture to prove I'm still alive!




I shall post a real entry soon!

• This entry was blogged without border's from my iPhone!