onceafatgirl

Peace is better than chocolate

Archive for the category “Relationships”

02 May 2015
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Some unsolicited advice to unstick my proverbial craw.

I was reading an Internet forum for people who have their eating disorders under control, and a woman said her husband, who recently lost a lot of weight because of a medical issue, started speaking judgmentally about her weight and how much she was eating. 


I wanted to write about that issue here because it sticks in my proverbial craw.

I write this blog for myself. I write it as a means of getting thoughts out of my weird, dangerous, sick, and sometimes brilliant mind. Once they are out into the open, I can see what is sick and what is brilliant. I am always honored if someone gets something out of my writing. And I love hearing about it in the comments! But I am not writing an advice column. And certainly, if you want to try my ideas for yourself, you are welcome to, but I’m not promoting anything here. 

OK. That’s kind of a lie. Peace. I am actively promoting self-acceptance as a means of attaining inner peace.

But both here and in life, I get a lot of people giving me advice. Unsolicited and unwelcome. Lately, it is usually when I talk about the weight I gained when I quit smoking, but it has been going on for many years.  And yes, it is hard for me to be with the extra weight. But this is not a weight loss blog. It is a blog where I share what it is like to be a woman who lives with eating disorders.This is a whole blog where I talk about how I was miserable (and yes, fat) because I couldn’t stop eating. And now MY EATING IS UNDER CONTROL! (Yes. I am yelling that!) 

And even more frustrating, I find that this unsolicited advice often comes from people who are riding the wave of being high on whatever diet/exercise/quick-fix food scheme they have discovered within the past year. And I will be blunt (and judgmental), sometimes I look at what they are suggesting to me and all I can see is them acting out an eating disorder because their eating is not under control. And I think, Oh, sweetie, been there, done that, when I was an in-so-deep-I-couldn’t-see-the-surface addict. So thanks, but no thanks. But I only think it, and I don’t say anything. Because they are not looking for advice. And I don’t do unsolicited advice.

I have been doing what I do for over 9 years. 9 years and 4 months. 3,407 days! I am past the “pink cloud.” I am no longer “high” on losing weight and eating well. I have stuck to this through life tragedies and screwball comedies. I do it when it’s boring. I do it when I don’t want to. I do it every day always. No matter what.

Yes. It makes me mad when people tell me how to do it “better.” I know it shouldn’t. I know they are just excited about something. Or they are trying to help. Or even if they are not, even if they just want to feel superior, because they have managed to wrangle their body into a socially acceptable shape and size, I should be grateful that I have my own solution. And that I know it without a doubt. I mean, how many things work for over 9 years? And since it has worked for over 9 years, I am confident that it will continue to work.

I will close with this. A lot of people want to know “how I did it” (referring to losing 150 lbs), but when I tell them that I have not eaten any grains, starches or refined sugars for over 9 years, they tune out. They want an easier way. But I have tried that “easier way,” and it  looks like exercising to the point of exhaustion and injury. It looks like starving myself for long periods so I can binge on sugar. It looks like being miserable in my body and life because I can’t stop eating. It looks like being obsessed with food every second of every day. 

We have a saying in the community where I keep my eating under control. “Keep your eyes on your own plate.” Today I’m giving you unsolicited advice. And that’s it.
Posted in Inspiration, Life, Personal Growth, Relationships and tagged , , , ,
19 Apr 2015

Reunited and it feels so good…

Yesterday was my 20th High School reunion. I didn’t expect to go. 


I went to a pretty prestigious high school. 20 years out, most people have pretty prestigious jobs. Doctors, lawyers, scientific researchers. Me? I’m just a college dropout with no job.

Of course, I don’t think that’s true. I mean it is true. But I am not even a little ashamed of it. I love my life. I have always done what I wanted to do. I have never lived by anyone else’s rules. And I do not judge my success in life by education, money, or recognition. 

I am happy. Truly, deeply fulfilled and satisfied. I like myself. 

So I guess that’s why I went. 

I was cripplingly self-conscious in high school. I had so much fear and self-loathing that my teen years were torture. I was fat. I couldn’t control my eating. I was overwhelmed with life to the point of paralysis. I was incapable of dealing with my giant emotions.

Perhaps that is true of most people. Hormones and school. Being essentially imprisoned with people because they happen to be the same age as you. 

But to my miserable teen self, nearly everyone else seemed to have everything totally under control.

To be blunt, the reunion was a lot like High School itself. I ate at a table in a corner with the same person I ate with at a table in a corner 20 years ago. I had nice conversations with a handful of friends from 20 years ago. I was ignored by the same people who ignored me 20 years ago. People who were nice then, even if we weren’t exactly friends, were nice yesterday. People who were obnoxious then, were obnoxious yesterday.

I brought my own food. (And thank God. There was a buffet dinner, but almost nothing I could eat.) Only one person who didn’t know about my food boundaries noticed that I was not eating what everyone else was eating. There was a little eyebrow raising, but nothing major. 

My eating habits were, for the most part, not a topic of conversation. But they were the reason I could be there. I was completely confident. Not just in my body, but also as myself. I didn’t feel nervous or awkward. I wasn’t judging myself. I didn’t care if I was being judged. I had a great time catching up with people I hadn’t seen in so long.

Having my eating disorders under control is, without a doubt, the foundation of my peaceful life. It gives me a freedom that I never had as a teenager. 

Especially when I have had my body size on my mind for a while now, it was such a blessing to have such a clear illustration of the gifts of having my eating disorders under control. I wasn’t thinking about my body yesterday. I was just enjoying the company and the nostalgia. I wasn’t thinking about food. I wasn’t sitting at home on my couch so ashamed of myself that I didn’t want to show my face. I was just being myself. And liking it.
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21 Feb 2015
5 Comments

Sorry, not sorry

What are you willing to do to win?

Are you willing to lie? How big of a lie? A little lie? How big can a lie be before it’s not a little lie anymore. What are you willing to do to cover up that little lie you told to win? Are you willing to cheat? Are you willing to pass the blame? Are you willing to steal?

Over the years, I have figured out that winning is not my goal. For me, every day I am sober from sugar, my goal is to be simultaneously more humble and less of a doormat.

When I was eating compulsively, I spent almost all of my life apologizing for existing, but refusing to apologize for my bad behavior. I would justify it, blame other people, and just plain old lie about it, but I never just said, “I was wrong, I’m sorry.”

Now, I am committed to the opposite. I apologize for my bad behavior. And I refuse to apologize for existing. And that extends to being myself and taking care of myself. It’s the difference between being a self-righteous chump and a modest powerhouse.

To my self-righteous chump self, winning was a necessity that I was willing to do anything to achieve. To the modest powerhouse, life is not a zero-sum game.

It turns out that a lot of people have opinions about me. They have opinions about my lifestyle, my choices, and my personality. They have opinions about things that are absolutely and 100% none of their business.

That’s OK. They can have their opinions. What they cannot have are my apologies. Too bad, so sad. Sorry, not sorry.

And there is another thing that they cannot have. They cannot have a say in my heart, soul, or spirit. They cannot make me hard. I will not allow it.

I’m a sensitive person in some ways. I have very big feelings. Books and movies make me cry. Even TV shows and comic books make me cry. (Good ones, of course…)

But malice and cruelty make me cry too. Especially, but not exclusively, when they are directed at me.

My being susceptible to being hurt upsets a lot of people in my life. People who want what’s best for me want me to be harder to touch. Growing up, people used to tell me not to be so sensitive. My boyfriend tells me that when I get upset “they” win.

But I don’t think that’s true. I think “they” win when I grow a crusty layer of ice around my heart, so that I am immune to malice and cruelty.

I don’t want to be immune to malevolence. I want to be hurt by hurtful things, so that I never stop being moved by moving things, or inspired by inspiring things. I never want to forget my humanity.

I spent the first 28 years of my life trying to numb my gigantic feelings with sugar. I built fortresses around myself trying to be hard. Fortresses of fat and indifference and meanness. I ate my feelings into a 300 lb body. And it never did work, either. I was still sensitive. I just lived in a tiny world. A tiny world of self-involvement and ego.

This is better. Crying is not the end of the world. Nobody is winning when I cry. Because crying is not part of a game. It is part of being alive and aware and available for life. Which I do for myself. So, sorry, not sorry!

Posted in Inspiration, Life, Personal Growth, Relationships and tagged , , , , , ,
29 Nov 2014
2 Comments

Dear Tradition, consider yourself flouted. Love, me

And that is Thanksgiving done. Phew.

As you may know, it is my least favorite day of the year. I had ignored it, considered it just another Thursday, for a long time.

This year we went to my boyfriend’s family’s home for dinner, and my Mom’s for dessert. (Of course I did not partake of dessert.)

It was fine. It was even nice. Or at least there were some really nice moments. But it’s so much. It’s so much food. It’s so much noise. It’s so much heightened emotion.

I have said before that I am not afraid of food. I don’t worry about eating things I’m committed to not eating. But it is not always comfortable. It can sometimes be a matter of holding my thoughts in check. And that can be exhausting. Especially when I am out of my element.

And also especially on Thanksgiving. Because the traditional mode of celebration is eating. To not eat can somehow feel like I’m saying, “screw you, tradition. And screw you too, America.” To go to Thanksgiving celebrations and not eat sugar and carbs, and not over eat, and not do anything “special” is, without a doubt, to set yourself apart. It is to show up at a party and then…not party. It can feel like being the party-pooper. Which is why I used to just treat it as another day. It’s easier that way.

Of course I DO NOT WANT to eat sugar. I do not want to over eat. I am not telling you all of this because I want an excuse to “live a little.” I do not want any excuses. I love my boundaries. Seriously, getting my eating under control is the greatest thing that ever happened to me. And I am not interested in giving that up for a feeling of inclusion. Or normalcy. I am telling you this because I have made a choice. The choice to participate in this tradition on my own terms. For my boyfriend, mostly. Because it’s important to him to do his family traditions. And I love him.

But my food always has to be on my terms. Always. Period.

Look, people know. My boyfriend’s family is totally supportive. My family is totally supportive. I’m not saying that anyone was pressuring me. It is having to protect myself from the “Great American Institution” that is Turkey Day that is exhausting.

But it’s only one day a year. And nobody said I had to love it. I just have to get through it. And I don’t have to worry about that for another year.

Posted in Inspiration, Life, Personal Growth, Relationships and tagged , , ,
23 Nov 2014
2 Comments

If you have something to say about my weight, DON’T! Seriously, just don’t.

Something came up this week that I want to talk about.

It was nothing major, really. It was a common enough occurance. But good Lord did it piss me off.

A woman I don’t know very well said to me, “How’s your diet going? I can see that you have lost weight since last time I saw you.”

Number one, I have not lost weight since the last time this woman saw me. At all. I may even have gained weight. So it occurred to me as a lie. And I am not even a little interested in polite lies. I am positive she meant it to be nice. That she thought it was the neighborly thing to do. But that kind of thing is disingenuous to me. And not welcome.

Number two, I am not on a diet. Diets have a goal and an end. You lose 15 or 20 or 50 or whatever number of pounds and then you eat crap again. Diets get cheated on. Because diets deprive you of anything enjoyable so sometimes you have to “live a little.” Diets are about losing weight.

What I do is a way of life. I don’t want to cheat. I don’t have a goal so I can stop. I don’t want to stop. I have boundaries around my eating because it makes me happy and free. If I lose weight great. If I don’t, it doesn’t change anything. I eat delicious meals that I love that don’t include sugar or simple carbohydrates. Because I am addicted to those things. I am not on a diet. I have a diet.

And number three, and this is the important one, it is rude and obnoxious to talk about someone’s weight. Stop that!

I would say that the average human has between 1 and 5 people in their lives who are allowed to speak openly about their weight. Because they are loving, nonjudgmental, and a clearing for the person. If you want to know if you are one of those people, you need to ask. Seriously. Just because you are a parent, or a friend, or a sibling, do not assume you are welcome to comment or ask about a person’s weight. If you are too embarrassed to ask, then you should keep your mouth shut.

And if you ask, and the person says no, then keep it to yourself. Not, “Well I just want to say…”

I don’t care if you think it’s a compliment. I don’t care if you think it’s important. I don’t care if you think it’s polite. Whatever it is, no means no.

I hate this idea that people think somebody’s weight is open for discussion. I understand that it is on the outside for everyone to see. But it is still deeply personal.

My body is the only vessel I have. It contains the entirety of my life. Without it, I am very literally dead. It is a deeply spiritual thing. Whether you see it that way or not. So mind your own business.

OK. I am done ranting. Thank you.

Posted in Body image, Inspiration, Life, Personal Growth, Relationships and tagged , , , , , , ,
09 Nov 2014

Otherwise how would I learn?

I’m on the road again today. To Kentucky for a bit. Maybe not more than a week. But I’m happy to be going.

My boyfriend and I were apart for 2 weeks. The longest since I moved in with him. And I didn’t like it.

It’s funny that when I lived in New York I used to fear/hate leaving home. Because food is easy at home. And now, I would rather be on the road with a cooler as long as I can be with him. My definition of home has changed. My definition of comfort too.

We will stay in an extended stay hotel so I can have a kitchenette. And there is a grocery store within walking distance. So it’s not as if I am flying by the seat of my pants with my food. And so far I haven’t had to. But I really think I could if it came to that. For a short stay in a small town.

But the other thing I get to do is not worry about that right now. That’s not what is going on right now. I only have to deal with now. I don’t have to figure out how to deal with vague possibilities in the distant and uncertain future.

When I was eating compulsively I would often give up before I started something. The fear of having to deal with hardships and discomforts that may or may not pop up was an excellent excuse to quit. And quitting gave me more time to get high on sugar.

But for today, right now, I am incredibly happy to have my eating under control, my food taken care of, and to be available for adventure. Or at least life in the form I chose it. Which happens to be rather adventurous.

I was not the kind of person who would have chosen a life of regular travel. I chose love, of course. And it happened to come in the form of wandering. But I have learned that life likes to give me things I don’t think I want. Otherwise how would I learn that I love them?

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05 Oct 2014
1 Comment

I’m not going to pretend it’s quiche.

A while ago I thought it was time for my boyfriend and I to pack up our stuff, get in the truck, and move on. To a different location and a different chapter. But I jumped the gun.

But now it is really time to move along. And my boyfriend and I are both really happy about it.

But on the way out, we are being met with malice. Mostly from one person. But it’s a lot of malice. And it is forcing me to look at some things about myself.

When I got my eating under control I understood that I had to trust Life. I have written about it before. And I do. I trust that all is working out the way it should. I know that all will be well. But I am very bad at dealing with mean people.

I am not a mean person. Not to say that I have never been mean. When I was eating compulsively I could be quite malicious. I was always angry about being “dealt a bad hand” and I took it out on everyone I thought got a better life than I did. But it never felt good to be mean. I never enjoyed being a jerk. Though I always thought I would when I fantasized about it before hand.

But I don’t know how to be OK with cruelty. And what I am talking about is cruelty.

And I realized something the other day. What is going on is evil. I realized that evil is not some conceptual force in comic books and movies. It’s not metaphysical or otherworldly. It is the things we as humans do to hurt and torment and abuse with our eyes wide open. And my sensitive heart has a hard time with it.

But the agreement I made to trust Life is not just to trust that it will all work out in the end. It is that I will honor what happens every day. And that includes malice and cruelty. I need to learn to honor evil. And frankly, that’s hard for me.

I don’t know how to do that. But there are things that I do know. Eating within my food boundaries means that I cannot pretend or lie. Pretending and lying make me want to eat a chocolate cake. So when faced with malice, I need to acknowledge it. I need to make it clear that I see it. And that it’s not OK with me. Even if there is nothing to do about it. I can’t make nice. I’m not going to eat shit and pretend it’s quiche.

The truth is, evil exists. And it is going to continue to exist. And I need to figure out how to live with that with peace in my heart. Because my own peace is my own responsibility.

I don’t know what that looks like. I don’t have the answer. But I am happy that by this time next week, this particular evil will be behind me.

And besides, I know that as long as I keep my eating under control and work at growing personally, the solution will come. I already know to trust that all will work out in the end. And I’m quite sure that the issue will pop up again. In some form or another.

Posted in Inspiration, Life, Personal Growth, Relationships and tagged , , , , , ,
06 Sep 2014
1 Comment

Better than the alternative.

Today I called a restaurant to ask about their menu. I wasn’t going to. I looked it up on line. They had vegetables. They had protein. It would have been fine.

And then my boyfriend said, “But aren’t you going to call them?” And I said “Yeah. OK.”

Here is the truth. I would have been able to eat there without calling ahead. It would have been fine. But only just fine. By calling, I gave myself the opportunity to eat better. I was able to make a special request and have them prep something for me specially. This restaurant normally braises their cabbage with a seasoning blend that has starch in it. But one of the cooks told me that he could set aside some for me that did not have that seasoning. He then answered all ten thousand of my questions. Told me what was made pre-prepped and could not be changed, and what I could get on the side. He even told me portion sizes.

I would have had to take up plenty of my server’s time if I had asked all of my questions at the table. And in the end I would have ended up with a salad of lettuce and onion and 4 orders of steamed broccoli. Dry. It would not have been my favorite meal. I would have made it work. Because I always make it work so that I keep my food boundaries. But I would probably have been kind of disappointed.

I can have a lot of anxiety. Especially around keeping my food boundaries. Because as a sugar addict and compulsive eater, I am so clear that my happiness and sanity hang in the balance. But since I have started living with my boyfriend, I have been trying to be able to be more flexible about eating out. NOT like crossing my boundaries. Ever. But being more willing to trust that I will be able to keep my boundaries in the actual real world.

Other people do it. Calmly and peacefully and with the sure knowledge that it will go well and be great. I know so many people who regularly do what I do in restaurants and in public. I know people who have done what I do anywhere and everywhere. Morocco and India and the South American Jungle. Places where it’s actually hard. And yet they have managed. Even Japan (though I have been told that Japan was the hardest.)

I want to feel free to go out into the world and live my life. And trust that I will be able to keep my food boundaries as long as I am willing. Because that is really all it takes. Willingness.

But it was nice to remember that preparing can not only make the experience less stressful, it also gives me an opportunity to get something I would not have gotten if I had not called ahead. Not only did I get to let go of some of tomorrow’s dining anxiety by being prepared, I gave the restaurant an opportunity to be prepared to serve me better.

I am sure that I will have plenty of chances in life to prove that I am willing to keep my food boundaries in all manner of circumstances, while flying by the seat of my pants, because that is what life throws at me. But in the mean time, I am grateful to have a fantastic boyfriend who reminds me that when being prepared is an option, it’s worth the effort. And I’m sure he thought to remind me because, let’s face it, a better-fed Kate is a happier Kate. And a happier Kate is better than the alternative…

Posted in Inspiration, Life, Personal Growth, Relationships and tagged , , , , , , ,
30 Aug 2014

…But that’s none of my business…

Over the past few weeks I have been thinking about what it looks like to let people be themselves. Make their own choices. Fight their own battles. Live their own lives.

It’s a hard thing. I know that it is hard for everybody. And I like to think it is something that I am relatively good at.

Relatively. I mean, it’s not easy. Especially when I love somebody. Or in my pride I think I know what would be best.

And maybe what I think other people should do really would make them happy, or give them peace, or just generally make things work out for the best. But none of that matters.

When I was growing up, a lot of people wanted me to lose weight. Doctors and family and friends. Not because they didn’t like or love me fat, but because they did. They wanted better for me. They wanted me to be healthier and happier. They didn’t want me to get obesity related illnesses. Or be made fun of. Or get hurt and rejected.

But nothing those people wanted for me ever helped me. None of their opinions or advice ever landed as anything but judgment, cruelty, and conditional caring. I am not saying that that is what it was. I am not saying that it was not genuine love and concern. But it did not occur that way. It occurred as intrusion. And for the most part, it still does.

I love advice.

When I ask for it. Because I am choosy about whom I ask. I go to people who have something I want when I ask for advice. When I wanted peace around food, I went to people who had peace around food. I did what they did. Not people who were skinny. Not even people who had lost a lot of weight. I wanted food to stop being an issue. So I went to people for whom compulsive eating was no longer an issue. When I wanted to open my heart and find a powerful relationship, I asked for advice from people in the kinds of relationships I wanted. Not people who happened to be married. Not women who were trying to land a husband. It was about relationships. When I wanted to quit smoking, I went to people who had successfully quit smoking and were empowered by it. Not people who still had a puff every once in a while. Not people who had never had or wanted a cigarette. People who quit so that they could grow.

What I do around food is not for everybody. Plenty of people are not sick with sugar addiction or eating disorders, and can eat sugar and drink alcohol normally and without negative repercussions. Or have other food issues that would be exacerbated by what I do.

And no. Not everybody wants what I have. And I can understand that. I think most people can’t imagine how sweet and delicious my life is. I don’t think many people can fathom what it is like to have found a certain amount of peace. I bet they think that what I have is a dull as can be.

But even more, there are people who do, indeed, want what I have, but are unwilling to do what I do. Almost everybody wants to know how I live with the idea of never eating chocolate cake again. Or never having a glass of wine with dinner. Or they want to make sure that I know that they never could. So many people, when they hear my solution, decide that it’s too much. They want an easier, softer way. Not so hard. Not so extreme.

And who am I to tell them differently? Who am I to judge them for not doing what I do?

And it’s not just food. Food is just the most obvious example to me. My “amazing” weight loss transformation that is written all over my body. (Those of you who have been reading my blog for a while will know that I put amazing in quotes because I happen to know that my weight was the symptom of my eating disorders. That what’s really amazing to me is the gift of having my eating under control, which takes care of my weight issues. And that more than amazing, it’s work and dedication and giving myself over to grace.) Who am I to offer advice about any choice. Who am I to tell anybody anything? Who am I to tell another person how to live. Or what happiness is. Or where to find it?

Unless you want to ask me. And then I would love to tell you what works for me. And even then, I give it as a gift. With no strings. To do with what you will. Because your life is yours. And you get to live it for yourself.

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23 Aug 2014

I might go through hell, but I don’t need to live there

So I wrote a blog yesterday that I was going to post today, but yesterday was so insane that I decided it was better to write a whole new blog. So here goes.

Yesterday my boyfriend and I were set to travel to Florida. We got to the airport in plenty of time for our flight to Tampa, where we were going to connect to a flight to Ft. Lauderdale where we would arrive around 3. Then we would drive two hours down to the Keys. We’d hit the grocery store first to stock up the kitchenette we were renting, then head to a bar we like walking distance from the hotel so we could relax with beer for him and diet coke for me.

But then our flight to Tampa was so delayed that we were not going to make our connecting flight. So the airline did their best and managed to get us redirected. We would get into Ft. Lauderdale at 9:45 at night. By way of Kansas City. And then Nashville. No joke.

Now this is annoying. And while things were not settled, and we didn’t know how or if we would get to Florida, it was very stressful. And for about half an hour, I was really upset. But I kept reminding myself to breathe. I had all the food I needed, because I travel prepared. And my boyfriend called the hotel and told them we would miss check in. They said they would hide our key and we could check in in the morning. Plus, I was with my boyfriend, so it was all fine. We laughed about it a lot. Even as it was going on. We were both able to take it in stride and make the best of it.

So we finally get to Ft. Lauderdale after 8 hours of numb butt cheeks. We rent a really nice car for a good deal. We drive the 2 hours. I buy an apple at a rest stop and I have some protein packed in my bag so I have breakfast for the morning so we don’t have to run to the grocery store first thing in the morning. All is well. We’re exhausted. But the day is done.

Or so we think.

We get in about midnight, find our hidden room key, and go to the room. I open the door and the first thing I see is a mountain of garbage. Pizza boxes. Water bottles. A banana peel. There is a pile of towels on the floor. I turn on the lights (afraid there will be people in there) and the beds are all unmade. And it smells.

We are both clear that we are not going to sleep in the beds. (Duh!!!!) So we take what seem like unused pillows and go sleep on two chez lounges on the screened in balcony attached to our room. No joke.

So there are two things I want to say about this.

1) I didn’t have to eat over this. I didn’t have to drown my feelings with chocolate cake. I didn’t “deserve” something sweet at the end of a hard day. I don’t eat outside of my boundaries no matter what.

Sugar wouldn’t have made anything better. And in the long run, it would have made everything so much worse.

2) I had to learn to live a certain way when I got my eating under control. I had to learn to let life happen the way it happened. I had to learn to let go of anger and resentment. I had to drop self-pity.

It’s true that I was just plain miserable from midnight until I fell asleep on the lounge chair. And I was anxious for the hour that I was awake before the office opened and we got a new, lovely, clean room. And a refund for the night. (Obviously.)

But the trip is not ruined. We were able to be calm and loving and happy through the whole day. And I am perfectly happy right now. I’m laying by the pool watching iguanas eat bugs around me. My boyfriend and I have had a lovely day so far. We have even enjoyed telling our family and friends. We are already laughing about it.

I got that freedom from getting control of my food addiction. When I was eating compulsively, just the trouble with the flight would have been enough to positively ruin the whole time away. The. Whole. Trip! It’s not fair! Life isn’t fair! I hate everyone!!!!

But today it doesn’t matter if life is fair. All is well. Because I can let it be done. I can be happy in the now.

So that’s my story. But now I’m warm. I need to post this and get in the pool.

I hope you have a beautiful day. I am going to.

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