Beauty From Ashes

So I as I sit in front of my computer today, I am completely distracted. My heart is filled with sadness, sadness for a friend who lost her father this morning. My heart is just breaking for her and her mom and her sister and all those who loved her dad. I find myself fighting off the tears and just thinking a lot about life and death and heaven. And I keep wondering how my friend is doing and wondering what I should be doing as her friend and can’t help but feel totally helpless in this situation. I don’t know what it’s like to lose a parent, but I can imagine that it’s one of the worst feelings I will experience in my lifetime. I keep thinking about dying and I imagine my own death some day and wonder what people will say about me when I go. If I were to die tomorrow, would I leave this world having left any kind of mark? Who would come to my funeral? What would be my legacy? Would the fact that I have lived for thirty-three years on this earth really even matter? I don’t know. I k

I have really been in a struggle lately. Struggling not in loving myself, but in tolerating myself. I feel like I'm going backward. I worked so hard to get where I was and in a matter of eight months, I undid what it took me two YEARS to do. How does that happen? I'm not really sure. I know it started with feeling stuck. I had hit a plateau with my weight, the same plateau I always hit when I have lost weight in the past. And I got really frustrated with busting my ass at the gym and denying myself foods I really wanted to eat and not seeing any results. Couple that with stress at work, quitting my half-marathon training and being disappointed in myself, and losing my best friend and biggest supporter for no known reason. All of that lead to me giving up on myself. Allowing myself to choose sleep over the gym. Eat Taco Bell instead of a salad for dinner. Sit on the couch in my pajamas instead of going for a run. And now I am 24 pounds heavier than I was at the start of 2011. I

So, it’s been a week since my lunch date and I’ve heard nothing from CB. That leads me to believe I’ve been dealt the friend card yet again. Awesome. I’ll be honest, I’m filled with a mix of emotions. Part of me is pissed! He couldn’t even bother to let me down easy? Nope, he chose to be a coward and just not say anything. That’s pretty crappy, especially because I was super vulnerable and put myself out there with him one hundred percent. And that makes me want to punch him in the gut and tell him to get over himself and to be a man. (Don’t worry, I won’t really act on that thought.) Part of me, most of me actually, is devastated (but I’m trying to hold it together). My last post was so authentic to how I feel about CB. I really did feel so confident that he was my husband, that this was going to be the beginning of our future together. There were so many things that have happened over the last six months that lead me to believe that God has his hand in this and that I was finally fin

Warning: This is probably the most honest and uncensored post I have written to date. Read at your own risk and withhold judgement:) I just love this song - Adele's One & Only. Click here for the lyrics: http://www.metrolyrics.com/one-and-only-lyrics-adele.html This song gives me chills and makes me tear up every time I hear it. The lyrics (and Adele's voice) are so haunting. And when I hear this song, I'm imagining I'm singing it to two people. The first person I imagine singing it to is CB. This song encompasses my feelings for him and the possibilities that could be there with him. I think about him all the time and I close my eyes and envision a future together. I see us happy and in love and doing life together. Having babies and making our own family. I see our wedding and walking down the isle toward him, reading my vows and crying tears of joy that I've finally found him. I imagine kissing him passionately and never getting enough of him. I imagine lazy

So I've never really been one to take risks. I personally prefer to play it safe and be predictable. That may not be very exciting to a lot of people, but at least I know what to expect and won't get hurt....That has always been my mindset. However, if you never risk, you can miss out on amazing opportunities. And if I have any regrets in my life, it's that I have always played it safe and held back in life for fear of rejection or fear of looking stupid. So I decided to change that! Yesterday was my 33rd birthday {insert jokes about being old here:)}, and I decided to give myself a gift by taking a risk. I almost chickened out. But because I know myself, I shared my plan to take a risk with some of my close friends. I knew I would have to do it because they would ask me about it later and I didn't want to have to tell them that I was too afraid to do it. So I did it. I put myself out there. I made myself vulnerable. I risked rejection and looking stupid. I was so nerv

Fraud is defined as deceit, trickery, sham, poser, faker, impostor, misrepresentation, reckless disregard of the truth. I am a fraud. I walk around letting people think I have everything together. I go to the gym. I ran a half marathon. I lost sixty pounds. I walk around acting like I've figured this whole thing out and have conquered my battle with food. I even go so far as to get a big ass tattoo that covers my entire thigh and talk all this game about how it represents starting over and a new me and blah, blah, blah. All of that is a lie! Since January 2011 I have gained seventeen pounds. I am a foodie and have an unhealthy relationship with food. When I'm sad or angry or stressed, I turn to food. And this year has been really stressful. Work has been insane and very emotionally draining. I lost my best friend. I am still single with a deep longing to be married. I feel stuck - like my life is a holding pattern. I feel very isolated. So I turn to food. I eat fast food. I eat

Has something ever happened to you - something small, insignificant - to make you giddy? It's a feeling that you carry with you throughout the day. It makes you feel like you're walking on air, that you're invincible, and you have this grin on your face that you can't seem to wipe off. Everything just seems to be better. Well, that just happened to me today! All because he smiled at me and waved when he saw me this morning....I think I'll be floating on this moment for a couple days:)

Do you remember having your favorite toy when you were little? Maybe it was a teddy bear or a dollie or a blankie or a book - whatever it was - you carried it EVERYWHERE! Your mom had to pry it away from you because it was covered in dirt and needed to go through the wash. It was a comfort to you. It was your friend and you loved it more than anything else you owned. I don't remember having a favorite toy growing up, though I'm sure I had one or two. My brother Jesse had a bunny blanket that he took everywhere and rubbed the satin ribbon on it for comfort. My brother Dustin had a stuffed Big Bird that he carried all over, everywhere he went. That thing was so tattered and worn. It had to be washed many times. The eyes on him were worn off. My brother loved his Big Bird well. He loved it so much, he never wanted to be without it. My friends Paul & Melissa have a daughter named Annie. Annie just turned four and she has had a stuffed bear named Bear Bear since she was a baby.

Friendship. It is defined as a person known well to another and regarded with liking, affection, and loyalty. I LOVE my friends. Friday I was able to spend the entire day with people whom I like & have affection for and whom I am loyal to - and it was a glorious day! I started the day off by having coffee with a friend I haven't talk to for about three years. We chatted and laughed and had real deep conversation for two hours. It was wonderful to reconnect and just "be" with one another. And then I went and played in the pool with "my girls" from the gym. We soaked up the sun, laughed ourselves silly, and just spent time chatting and sewing into each others lives. These ladies are like my big sisters/my "moms" and I adore each and every one of them. And then I met my friend and her son for dinner and laughed myself silly and just enjoyed a time of just being totally comfortable in my own skin and free to be myself and speak my mind freely withou

So it's no secret that I'm about to head into my 33rd year of life, and I am single. I have been single for a LONG ASS time! And it is my deepest desire to be a wife and mother. I don't even know if there are words that can express how much my heart longs for these things. I have faith that one day I will be married and have children with my husband, but I would be lying if I said my faith has never wavered. There are times where I am a "doubting Thomas" for sure. Watching both of my younger brothers get married made me question whether or not I was destined to be single. And then seeing my brother become a parent twice over, caused that desperation to creep back up inside me. And it seems that everywhere I turn, people are getting married and having babies. And don't get me wrong, I have real joy for them, I really do. But at the same time, I can't help but desire what they have and wonder if I will ever have that for my own life. When it comes to

So I went to see the movie "Crazy Stupid Love" Friday night with friends. I started the evening off in a great mood, as I had just gotten my hair cut into a really sweet mohawk , had a cute dress on and was feeling good. I was feeling very confident in who I was and we were laughing and joking & having the great time. Well, I'm not gonna talk about the movie, as to not spoil it for anyone, but I will say it's pretty dang funny. And anyone who knows me knows I have a unique laugh that can be pretty loud. Well, about forty-five minutes into the movie, the girl next to me leans over and says (in a not so pleasant tone), "Excuse me, but I paid money to come here and watch this movie, not to listen to you." I was taken totally off guard and said, "I'm sorry." And then she felt the need to repeat herself one more time. I again apologized. So I was officially that obnoxious person in the movie theater who ruined a movie going experience for someon

A group of us girls from the office went to a workshop the other day about body image and the media. Let's just say I did not leave there with warm fuzzy feelings. The workshop didn't inform me of anything I didn't already know. Society/the media in America says to be beautiful, to be lovely, you have to be tall and thin and white. Well, I am one of those things, so that must mean I am one third beautiful. After the presentation, there was a time for discussion. One woman, an overweight, middle-aged, black woman asked if men were really attracted to thin women. And several people spoke up and stated they didn't think men liked thin women, but preferred a woman who was thick. I believe this is the truth for those women who spoke up during this workshop, but it is not my truth. My truth that I have known since seventh grade is that to be big (fat, curvy, thick - whatever you call it) is ugly/bad/wrong/unwanted. For as long as I can remember, I have battled my weight. I h

Hmmmmm, I have a problem. Okay, I have lots of problems. But one of my problems is that I have great expectations - great expectations of myself and of others. Don't get me wrong, it's good to have standards and to hold one's self to them. And I feel like I do a great job of holding myself to the standards I have created for myself in my life. The problem comes in when I try to hold other people to those same expectations. This does nothing but cause trouble for me and the other person! I end up hurt and frustrated....but how do I lower my standards? Should I have to? Don't I deserve to get what I give? It seems like it might just be a lose lose situation here.

We all know the saying, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me." This is such a fricking lie! It should say, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will break my heart." In my experience in the past thirty-two years of my life, words have hurt me deeper than any injury I have ever endured. And not only do they hurt you, but they scar you. The other day at work we had a training and we were asked to list words that people used to identify us or place us in a box. And one of my co-workers casually said, "Why is it we only remember the bad things people say about us?" What is is about the bad that sticks to us so well? I heard it said that it takes four positives to cancel out one negative. Why do you think that is? Why is negativity so powerful? I know for me I grew up hearing so much negativity. I was not popular growing up, and was teased and ridiculed in middle school. I was told I was ugly, fat, a cow, a dyke. I was

So if you know me, you know I am secretly married to David Cook, aka Mr. Stacie Brown. Totally joking! I do, however, find him irresistibly sexy and brilliantly talented. If you don't know who David Cook is - shame on you!!! Anyhow, his new album came out two weeks ago and I committed to listening to it as often as I can (at least once a day) so when he goes out on tour, I'll be able to sing along to all his songs. Don't judge me! :) His new album is superb and there are so many great songs on it. One of my favorites is titled, Time Marches On. One of the lyrics in the song says, "I never thought I'd see myself down here/In the same damn place with a different year/Where the lines on my face never looked so clear." And the chorus goes, "Time marches on, right or wrong/Never waits for no one, no/Can't turn it off, won't make it through/Cause time marches on without you." Oh how I can relate to these lyrics. So often in my life, I have felt lik

I grew up in a home where there was lots of cursing. I consider myself a "cursing Christian" and am always happy when I meet a fellow CC :). I find cursing to be theraputic and actually once read an article in a health magazine that said studies show that people who swear are less stressed than people who don't. So that's a good thing! But the four letter word I am talking about today is not a "swear word." Love is a four letter word. It's amazing to me how something so amazing and precious and beautiful as love can also bring so much hurt and pain and devastation. There are so many people around me who are experiencing great heartache because of love. Relationships are severed. Strained. Longed for. Complicated. And sometimes, the cynic in me wonders if love is really worth it. Is it really worth all the pain and heartache? We grow up (especially us girls) watching Disney Princess movies and having fairy tales read to us. And in all of these stories the

I am currently in the process of getting a phoenix tattooed on my left thigh. It's huge. It's beautiful. And as the artists in the tattoo shop continue to tell me, it's " badass !" :) I've spent nine and a half hours laying on a table while the BRILLIANT Steve Schram tattoos my leg and I have five hours to go. And oh my goodness, it's been painful! There have been parts that were just irritating and uncomfortable, but bearable. There have been parts that hurt like hell and I just wanted to scream (I've only said the f-word once so far). There have been moments where I've wanted to stop and be done because I couldn't handle it anymore. During these nine and a half hours I've had time to talk to Steve and get to know him and how effing amazing and talented he is, what a beautiful human being he is and what a loving father and husband he is. And I've also had LOTS of time to think and reflect. And this whole process of getting tattooed,

So, I’ve been told by many people that I write well and that I should write a book. I always laughed that off because I’m not an author, sure I was an English major in college, but that doesn’t mean I can write. And yes, occasionally I can spout off something witty or thought provoking after I’ve had an experience, but that would account for a few pages, not an entire book. And what would I write about? I don’t feel like I’ve arrived at anything and have no authority to give people advice on anything. But what if I did write a book? A non-fiction book. What would I write about? People say you should write about what you know. I know about sorrow, loss, heartache. I know about working my ASS off to lose weight only to have it come off very slowly. I know singleness, being an outsider, always feeling like I’m the only one bold enough (maybe dumb enough) to challenge things and ask questions about why they are the way they are. I know what it’s like to be the fat girl wherever I go and AL

Finding The Smile So there’s this blogger that I follow. His name is Ben Davis (bendoeslife.com) and he has lost 130 pounds after discovering a love for running. He has completed countless races and has even completed an Ironman! He’s badass, super funny and easy on the eyes:)!!! Once in awhile he will write something deep and thought provoking, and yesterday I came across one such post (see below). As I read this post, I felt like I was reading my own life - that Ben has been sneaking into my journal and into my head. These last few months of my life have been filled with sadness and a rollercoaster of emotion. And the saddest thing about all of it is that I gave up on me. I decided that I wasn’t worth fighting for. I let the darkness creep in and take over. I allowed comfort to beat out sacrifice. I decided that being sad was easier than fighting to find the joy. I quit on myself. I lost focus. I decided to settle for comfort because it was safe. It didn’t matter that the comfort was

Some of you know that last year I trained for and completed my very first half-marathon. It was one of the most life changing experiences I have ever had. It helped me to realize that all my life I have allowed others to define me and that I didn't really know who I was as a result. All the training and completing the run was about proving something to myself. It was amazing! (See my note More Than A Run for more on that experience.) Well, I decided I was going to participate in the half marathon again this year. Training began a couple weeks ago, and I will complete the run on Mother's Day. I went for a six mile run this morning, and had a bit of an epiphany about my life. You see, when I do something once, I automatically make this assumption that I have conquered it/mastered it and if I do it again, it will be a piece of cake because I know what to expect. Well, I have ran the six mile distance hundreds of times, but today it was a real struggle to complete. And as I was on

Well, it’s been one month since I ran in and completed my very first half marathon! And it’s actually really hard to believe that I did it or that it was even something that was in the realm of my abilities to do (due to my own personal demons and things I was told/experienced as a young lady about myself and who I was and was not). So I have to remind myself that I did actually do itJ. Completing this race was not only good for my body and physical self, but it was so good and needed for my heart and my attitude toward myself and who I am. And what is even more strange is that I’ve had at least a dozen people tell me that I’ve inspired them. It is so odd to me to hear people say that. I’ve never considered myself as inspiring. I’m very flattered, but again, I don’t often believe in my own abilities and impact. So that has been a big thing for me. This whole process has changed my life! It was like my own little personal Breakthrough trainingJ. I never could have imagined how training

Do you ever feel better about yourself/about life when you're around someone? There are people in my life who just make me feel good about who I am. I find myself smiling and laughing a lot more around them because their personalities are so infectious. Do you ever wonder if you get in your own way in life? I wonder this a lot actually. Do my own fears and insecurities hold me back? Have I missed out/passed up some great things because I was scared or unsure? And sadly, I'm positive the answer to this is yes. Do you ever wish you could get away with saying exactly what was on your mind? Gosh, I really wish I could do this….sometimes I don't say things I want to because I'm afraid of the way it might be received and sometimes I don't say it because it may be deemed inappropriate. And sometimes I don't say it because I'm too nice. Do you ever just want to grab ahold of someone and kiss them? Man…I wish I was a little more bold and brazen sometimes! Have you ev

I am going to begin this post with a disclaimer (which probably means I shouldn't be writing it, but I'm going to anyway)....The thoughts and opinions expressed in this post are mine and mine alone. I am speaking only for me and not the enitre female population. And the paragraphs to follow are written with deep emotion (hurt, disappointment, frustration, fear, saddness, lonliness). So these are not always my opinions, just today:). Okay, now that I've got that out of the way...... I have to say that I L-O-V-E, love men. I relate to men much more easily than I do women. I grew up the only girl in a family of tons of boys. Two of my very closest friends (people I would lay my life down for) are men. I trust them completely and adore them with my whole heart. Men are fantastic, really they are. BUT men can be big shallow, self-absorbed jerks sometimes too. What is that all about? Why is it a man can say that he wants a woman who's going to love him for who he is, who'

I have a tattoo on the top of my right foot that's been there for about four years now. When people see it, they always ask me, "What's on your foot?" And I always say it's a heart shaped rock with the hebrew word, hesed, that means unconditional love. And they look at me strangely and I reply by saying that it's a long story, but I have the actual rock that is tattooed on my foot. So, I decided to explain my tattoo here...In the fall of 2005 I had my heart completely shattered. I had fallen in love with a man whom I thought loved me back. It turns out that he did love me, just not enough....basically it came down to this - he cared for me and another girl and had to make a choice and one week after my 27th birthday he told me he was in love with her and wanted to marry her (people work fast in the romance department around here!). I was shattered, broken, devistated. I cried for about three days straight. I didn't know what to do. I thought this was the m

Food and I have quite the history together. It's really a love hate relationship - I love food, and it hates me and my body. I've realized how food treats me and have tried to end the relationship many times, really I have. But it's soooo hard. Food tastes so good, and it can be so comforting sometimes. I know that there are times when I eat my emotions instead of dealing with them. Sometimes sad and lonely is a plate of chocolate chip pancakes or pizza and stressed out is Qdoba and a candy bar....not good, I know. I've decided the only way I can end the vicious cycle is that all food needs to either taste like crap or I need to remove the tastebuds from my tongue....I'm just kidding, but life really would be a bit easier if food didn't taste so wonderful....But seriously, this is something I'm really trying to work on. I don't want food to rule my life, and I think I'm making pretty good headway on this one. And hopefully one day soon I'll be ab