onceafatgirl

Peace is better than chocolate

Archive for the tag “the next big adventure”

Tomorrow everything changes. Like usual.

Tomorrow everything changes. 

Philosophically speaking, you could say that everything is always changing. But my life is very much built on routine and the comfort of sameness. Especially as someone who moves around so often. I keep touchstones with me always. I travel with a kitchen. With the same bedding and the same bathroom accouterments. I have my favorite mug at our house, and my favorite mug at our apartment. I have my ramekins at our house and my ramekins at our apartment. 

But tomorrow we go pick up Harlow Gold (we are keeping her shelter name, Harlow, and I love the line in Bette Davis Eyes “her hair is Harlow gold. Also she is black with dark grey underfur. So not gold at all. Anyway…) And that is a new personality. That is a new being with needs and wants and desires that must be honored and addressed. That is the start of 15-20 years (Life willing) of relationship.  

Once I got my eating under control, I got clarity. And I got to learn who I was and what I wanted. And what I didn’t. And I didn’t want kids. I could see that the societal assumption that I did want them, along with the assumption that the man I ended up with would necessarily want them, made me assume that it would all happen. That one day it would be “time” and I would know. But I didn’t. And he didn’t. And that was amazing. And we have spent almost 13 years enjoying our lives together.

And now, at 48, I am finally, for the first time, ready for a pet. And that feels good. It feels right. It feels just the right amount of life changing. 

I suspect that Harlow Gold will just slip right into our lives like she was always there. That my new normal will be normal pretty quickly. Having my drug foods down and my eating under control means that I am good at going with the flow and rolling with the punches. But no matter what, tomorrow, everything changes. Like usual. 

Making bad art. And also great art. As one does.

I finished my lined zipper pouch. It was (is) absolutely hideous. And kind of hilarious. But I love it and am proud of it. And people on social media told me it looked kind of like a baked potato. 

So I modified the pattern, and changed the colors, and made a freaking adorable baked potato zipper pouch. With a fabric lining and crocheted butter pats and chives on top. I’m still considering how to crochet a dollop of sour cream for a little zipper accessory.

One of the most important lessons I learned about art is that you have to be willing to make bad art to make great art. And that not all your art is going to be great, even if you are a great artist. 

That was a lesson I heard, but did not *get* until I had my eating under control and I was no longer drugging myself with sugar. 

When I was eating sugar and drug foods compulsively, it really felt like I would never eat again if I didn’t eat that thing (cake, cookie, piece of pizza) right now. Like that was the last one on Earth and it needed to be mine.

I crafted in a similar manner when I was still eating sugar. Obsessed. Obsessive. Frantic. Inspiration was fleeting. And without the discipline of keeping my eating under control, I didn’t even understand discipline. You want me to STOP and then START AGAIN?????

Addiction felt like I would literally die if I  didn’t get my drug (sugar.) And similarly I felt like I would literally die if I stopped working on that project.

And because of that the art I made was often rushed and half assed. I didn’t want to do the mundane parts. I didn’t care about the details. I just needed to get it done!

When I gave up sugar and put boundaries around my eating, I learned that there was always another meal coming. Not just was told, but understood! And that let me be calm enough to focus on other things.

Now, when I make art, it is a vehicle for the details. I even IRONED the fabric lining for sewing and just general neatness. Who even am I???

I have some more ideas. More things I want to make. And perhaps some of them will be hideous. But it feels good to make some creative leaps early in 2025. 

Life, God and the Universe Conspiring

I found out this week that I did not get the job teaching art to kids. 

If I had gotten the news a week ago, I would have been devastated. But instead, I just remembered that I can’t get a job that isn’t for me. And I can’t lose a job that’s mine. 

See, I believe that. I know that. Ever since I put my drug foods down and stopped eating compulsively, I have had a level of peace and clarity that lets me see clearly, and choose my reactions. Now I understand that Life is always giving me better than I thought I wanted. I have very real examples of it throughout the 18+ years of having the sugar down. Men that dumped me and jobs that fell through, only to find out that there was something better waiting for me. Something and someone *right* for me.

But sometimes, when I am attached to something, a specific outcome, or just needing a *win* for once, whatever I have decided a “win” is, it feels so personal. So targeted. Like Life and God and the Universe are out to get me.

But in these little moments of clarity I can see that when I get my ego out of my own way, Life, God and the Universe have only ever conspired to give me the best. A life beyond my wildest dreams.

My mother-in-law sent me a picture of a crocheted potato this week. Right before I got the email about the art teacher job. And I asked if she wanted to learn how to make one. She did! I got excited and I have spent the past few days trying a bunch of different potato patterns. Accidentally made an egg pattern. Made an egg cup for a princess, and gave the egg a face and a tiara. Gorgeous and hilarious. A gift for a friend!

My creativity feels abundant. I am making art. I am writing a lesson plan to teach how to crochet a potato. I am feeling excited and inspired. 

I still don’t have a job. And I still want to make money. But I trust that the best way for me to do that is on its way. Maybe by teaching people how to crochet potatoes. Who knows? Not me. And I don’t need to worry about it. I can let Life, God and the Universe conspire without me.

…Grow up, Kate

What does it mean to trust the process? I guess the further I get from my own past experiences, the less I know what that even means. And right now that is frustrating and annoying. (Terrifying. It’s terrifying.) 

This week:

Someone asked if I might be interested in applying for a part time office job they know of, and I asked for more information. I am interested in making money. I am also interested in making money from my creative brain. I am trusting that the right things are coming my way.

I have an almost-done crochet project for someone that has been sitting in its project bag for over a week without me touching it. But I don’t want to do it. And I don’t know why. But I am not. And that feels right. So why do I feel like not doing is automatically wrong?

Among a whole list of other basic health related big girl accomplishments, I went to the doctor and actually let them draw blood for the first time in 20 years. And the phlebotomist was so generous, listening to me, going along with my needs, not being condescending or impatient with me. And then she was also just spectacular at her job. I didn’t cry, and that made me want to cry in a different way. Shout out to Lisa! But that was a huge hurdle for decades and I just made it over it? Okay…

All of these feel like big things. But I don’t know what they mean. 

I already know how to move forward from a lesson I have failed to learn. I know how to catch up. I know how to both move up and move on.

But I feel like these are new lessons. A whole new curriculum. New frontiers and all that jazz. Emotionally, personally, in my connections and my accomplishments. And I feel like I don’t know protocol. I don’t know what “letting go” looks like.

In the serenity prayer, there is the serenity to accept the things I can’t change and the courage to change the things I can. And also the wisdom to know the difference. But wisdom comes from experience. And I don’t have that. Which I suppose means it’s coming. And probably fast.

And maybe what it comes down to is that I don’t want to fail. Not even once. And well…grow up, Kate. 

Doing the work scared.

I saw a meme with a quote the other day that really struck me. The magic you’re looking for is in the work you’re avoiding.

I love my comfort zone. Adore it. If my options are go big or go home, I’m going home. I’m putting on some yoga pants, taking off my bra, putting on an audiobook and doing some garter stitch knitting.

A friend of mine is an artist who makes her living painting. She was recorded speaking about it and she said one of the things that makes her a success is that she loves being afraid. I have never been a fan, personally. And perhaps that is a gift she was born with. But for me, it had to be cultivated and nurtured. And I still don’t love it. I just love the results.

When I got my eating under control I learned to make friends with being afraid. Or I became willing when I realized that the things that I wanted for myself, like a body I was comfortable in, and a level of integrity I was proud of, and a clear mind, and great relationships, and love were all on the other side of things I was terrified of. These were all things I both desired and lacked. And I wasn’t going to find them in any of my usual haunts: my couch, my bed, a pack of cigarettes or a box of Little Debbies.

In our Western culture, we have a lot of fad diets. And one of the most common things about them is they claim that you can eat whatever you want and still lose weight. One of the hardest lessons I learned was that in order to change my life, I had to change the way I was living my life. If I could eat whatever I wanted and still lose weight, I wouldn’t have needed to lose weight. (Not that I needed to lose weight. I was a beautiful fat woman! I needed to get my eating addiction under control.)

I am ready for a new chapter in my life. I would love to find a job I love. I would love to write some fiction I am proud of. I would love to complete some fiction whether or not I am proud of it! I would love to create new crochet doll designs that bring my skill level up a notch. Or ten.

But right now I’m in my comfort zone and right at this moment I don’t even know exactly how to get out of it and scare myself proud. But I am keeping my eating under control, and doing my spiritual writing and meditation. And trusting that Life will lead me in the right direction. I know that the next right thing will come to me as long as I’m willing to do the work scared.

A job, some fear and anxiety, probably a miracle.

One of my favorite things I had the opportunity to learn when I got my eating under control is how to go with the flow. How to let life happen as it does (because it will) and to make the best of it. To handle new and difficult situations with grace and ease.


On Tuesday morning this past week I got a call from management in my company, asking if I would take on a new position. And could I start the next day?


I was certainly happy to take it on. I have mostly just been working part time for almost a year now. And while I have enjoyed it, because I love having lots of alone time, the truth is I like work. I like being of use. I like being good at what I do. I like the feelings I get when I accomplish things. I like being impressive. My best friend’s old therapist said that a huge portion of our self-esteem comes from our job.


And there is another part of it for me right now. I am not working with my husband on this job. My boss is someone I just met for the first time on Wednesday. And while I love working with my husband, and we make a great team, there is something exciting about getting the chance to show someone else what I can do. And knowing that what he has to say means something different to the company, coming from a stranger and superior, than it does coming from the person who chose me as a life partner.


The other important thing about getting my eating under control when it comes to this job is that keeping my food boundaries has taught me how to manage my fear and anxiety. Because for as excited as I am to do this job (and I am very excited), my brain goes on a little merry-go-round ride of thoughts and feelings, and a good portion of them are fears. Fears that I will fail, that I am not as good as I think. That I am not good enough in general.


It doesn’t matter that these thoughts are irrational. Anyone with irrational thoughts will tell you that knowing you are being irrational does not change the experience of it. It’s why self-knowledge was never enough to lose weight when I (and seemingly everyone else) cared so much about my weight. (I’m sure the world still cares about my weight because it cares about weight in general. I just don’t care that it cares anymore.)


But in getting my eating under control, I learned how to stop thoughts. I learned how to change my mind. I learned how to change my thinking. I learned how to harness control over my thoughts as a tool.


Eating compulsively always had me too high on sugar to manage anything, especially my thoughts. It had me foggy, and careless, and numb. These are not ideal circumstances to take control of one’s own brain. The point of getting high was always to stop thinking and feeling entirely, not to control myself.


I am very excited about getting a new opportunity. And if you read last week, I do believe that this job came straight out of a miracle door. So I am going to keep meditating on miracles and the doors they emerge from. And I am going to keep my eating boundaries. And I am going to do an amazing job! Probably. And if not, I expect there will be another miracle coming through another door. But for right now I’ll do the work in front of me.

Happy to be wherever here is

I am not a person who likes change. Or surprises. Or being unprepared. So this week was not my favorite.

My husband and I were set to head to a job in Connecticut. So we did all the things we do when we head out to a job. We found an apartment, and set up utilities. We went into the garage and packed up our second “traveling” home with another set of dishes and small appliances, and sheets and towels, and all of the things that make our home ours when we are working on the road. We even have a traveling Alexa device and a traveling meat grinder. We are not messing around.

My husband had to be there a few days before me, and it was going to take 2 days to drive,  so we picked up his truck and he left on Tuesday. He drove all day Tuesday and then woke up on Wednesday and got half way through the day’s drive, just a few hours away from the apartment we would be renting, when he got a call. The job was canceled. Turn around and go home. 

That is correct. Canceled. Not postponed. Not delayed. Just plain canceled. 

I was kind of devastated. I have friends in that area. Some in Connecticut. Many in New York City. I was looking forward to being driving distance from them. And with the vaccines getting distributed, I was looking forward to getting hugs and in-person laughs. At least at some point in the year. 

And we had made lots of plans for the money we’d make there. Fix up the outside of our house. Have new concrete porches poured in both the front and the back, have the driveway redone, and have the siding on our house replaced. We counted our chickens before they were hatched.

I was also really stressed about money. We had already signed a lease on an apartment. I did not know what that would mean for us financially.

But the apartment complex terminated the lease and it only cost us the security deposit, which was the best case scenario. So all that I really had to do was mourn the lost expectations of living back on the east coast near my friends and the money I had already spent in my dreams. And I did have to mourn those things. So I did.

But a lot of really good things came out of this as well. For example, in a row, we had some little things go wrong right before we left. Our plumbing was wonky because roots sometimes grow in our pipes, so we had some plumbers come over and snake our outside drain. My husband would normally do this himself. But we were busy packing and getting ready to move, so we hired someone and in terms of both time and money, it was the best thing to do. It cost less than it would have for my husband to rent the machine and do it himself. And we are kind of procrastinators, so if we had not been on our way out, we might have left it longer. And then our furnace stopped working so we had someone come out to look at it. Thankfully it was an easy fix. Both of these turned out to be easy fixes and we took care of them quickly, and now they are done.

And then, since he was on his way back to our house, my husband looked to see if he could get a PlayStation 5 and they had one at the store just a few blocks from our house. So because he had to come back, he got the thing he has been wanting most for the past 6 months. Not the worst consolation prize.

But maybe most importantly, my husband and I were both working on a project that was causing us a lot of stress and frustration and we are now in the process of getting out of that job. Today we are writing a letter together to say that we cannot go back to that job. That in leaving it, we realized how it had been affecting us detrimentally, both individually and as a unit, over the past several months.

I will tell you that one reason I know I cannot go back to that job is because I know what it feels like to give up poison, and to know that I cannot go back to feeling like that. I did it with sugar.

I know that some people think I am crazy for keeping my eating boundaries. They think it’s extreme. They think I must be suffering because they believe they would suffer to give up cake. I need to express to you that I could not do what I do every day for over 15 years if I did not get one hell of a payoff. That payoff is not feeling toxic or poisoned or trapped. I felt all of those things when I was eating compulsively. Now I feel free and light and able to take life as it comes. Like when a job I was really looking forward to falls through at the very last minute.

Leaving this job feels a lot like giving up sugar. I feel sort of disoriented. I am afraid of what I just gave up and what I will lose because of it. Money security in this case. And potentially the good will of certain people in the company we work for. But also, when I even think of letting it back into my life, everything in me screams that I do not want to go back there ever again. I do not want to feel that way ever again.

And in general, I do not want to go backwards. I want to move forward all the time. I want to keep getting better, and to keep getting a better life because of it. That is also a gift of having my eating boundaries. Growth.

We don’t know what is in store for us moving forward. We don’t know what our next job will be or where it will be, at home or on the road. But we did learn some things about ourselves. 1) That we miss the road. 2) That we can’t do that awful job that we may have ended up stuck in for years if this canceled job had not come up. 3) That we are resilient. 4) That we are excellent at packing quickly at a moment’s notice. (Actually, we already knew that but this was a nice reminder.)

I will tell you what this feels like. It feels like a fresh start. It feels like someone hit the reset button. It feels like exactly what I need and where I want to be, even if I am not sure where, exactly, I am.

My eating is taken care of, so all is well with me

There is a saying that “Hell is a hallway.” That it is the transition, the periods of unknown, that make us unhappy, anxious, and weary. I am in a hallway. I’m right at the threshold,  but I’m not quite in the door yet. 
I moved this week. Packed. Drove 8 hours. Unpacked. (OK sort of unpacked. There’s a lot left to do. And a lot of clutter in our new living room.) But a lot is still up in the air. Unfinished.
My furniture and internet don’t come until Tuesday. What office space I will have on my new job is unclear, and I will be working from home until that is figured out. 
And grocery stores are not what I would prefer. I have been spoiled. It turns out that small town Oklahoma is not going to provide for me in the manner I am accustomed to. Even driving an hour to the nearest city I can’t find some of the things I really “need.” Like Italian Sausage without sugar. This is a bit of a blow. I will have to see if there is a butcher who will make it for me by special order, like I did in Texas. Or maybe Amazon. You can but almost anything on Amazon.
But what I do know is that I will adapt. I always do. My eating habits will change, but I will stay within my boundaries. My routine will change, but I will figure out how to take care of myself. Some new things will be better and some will be worse. That seems to be the way of it.
But because of the consistency of keeping food boundaries, new normals come quickly to me. I think this much travel and change could have a hangover effect on me if I didn’t have a touchstone in my food commitment. 
Don’t get me wrong. I’m tired. I have gotten less sleep and more physical exertion in the past few days than usual. And I am ready for my new home and new job to be settled. But my food is already settled. It was while our old apartment was in disarray. It was while we were on the road. And it is while our new apartment is littered with crates and boxes. My food is always taken care of. And that makes my life better.
People often shudder and balk at the idea of what I do. So restrictive! So extreme! So unyielding! But in actuality, it makes times of difficulty easy. I don’t always get to eat my favorite foods when I am living in the crazy, but I never have to worry about food. I have already planned, and prepared. And the truth is, there are lots of ways to do what I do quickly and efficiently. Ways to cook huge batches of food to freeze. Ways to buy pre-packaged proteins that travel well. Ways to simplify that part of my life so I can focus on the tasks at hand.
I still have lots of unpacking to do. And I still have work that needs to get done from my last job that has fallen by the wayside in the face of a big move. But my food is taken care of and my eating is under control. So all is well with me.

No rest for the weary, but they can have delicious meals

I had a long, weird week this week. My husband and I went to our permanent home in Chicago for the week, to do some work out of the home office, and meet with the accountant to get our taxes done. And while we were gone, some shady stuff went down at our job site. Which meant he had to rush back to take care of that, and I had to get our taxes taken care of by myself. Plus, my workout routine was thrown off, so while I *did* go on my jog every day, every single day was a struggle with myself to do it. And also, I’m gaining weight. Even though I am eating exactly the same and working out 5 days a week just like always. The weight gain, thankfully doesn’t throw me into a pit of despair, but doesn’t make me particularly happy either.
And this week doesn’t get any easier. Because we still have to move on to our next job in Oklahoma, which means being out of our apartment in Tennessee and moved into our apartment in Oklahoma by Friday. No rest for the weary. 
And the truth is, I’m weary. 
When times like this come around, I have to remind myself that that’s life. Sometimes I just tired. Sometimes I’m just sad. Sometimes I’m just worried or restless or cranky. And if there *is* something to change, which, of course, sometimes there is, it’s always me. It’s always my thing to change. Like my eating, or my sleeping, or my attitude, or my expectations. When I was eating compulsively, I was always looking to force change on something or someone else. Then I could be happy. 

That never worked.

Regarding my weight gain, I could change the way I am eating, and eat lighter options with less fat, to see if I would lose this weight. But my experience is that it doesn’t always help. And one way that I keep my food boundaries is by fighting the food with the food. I eat foods that I find delicious and satisfying to keep myself from feeling deprived of cake. Because if I ended up eating sugar and carbs, even just a little (at first), the little bit of weight I’m gaining for no reason, would end up being a lot of weight I was gaining for a very valid reason. Because I would never be able to stop at a little. I’d be 300 lbs again in a minute. Ok, not a minute. But definitely a year, and possibly 6 months. And that is *not* an exaggeration. 
And I suppose there is a reason I’m tired. Because two 7-8 hour drives in a week, plus all of the life obligations I had to handle in between was a lot. And I will be a busy bee this week, wrapping up the work I can here, and starting up the work I have there. Along with moving a home from one place to another. 
But there is nothing to fix. All there is to do is one thing at a time. Keep my food under control. Take care of my body and my mind. Take care of my work and home obligations. Put one foot in front of the other. And refrain from worrying about anything not in my control. Which, frankly, is not as hard as it sounds. And is much easier when my belly is full of guilt-free food, and my mind is clear of shame and worry. 

Logistical Tetris, and then the fun part

As a person who travels for work, I get to see all sorts of places and be part of all sorts of communities. And I enjoy that very much. There are things I like and things I dislike everywhere. For example, I won’t miss the way people drive here in Tennessee, but being so close to Nashville was fun. 
But it’s just about time to move along, and that means my least favorite part of this way of life. Apartment hunting. Setting up utilities. Packing, hauling, and unpacking. Tying up loose ends. Ending and beginning again. 
It’s stressful. It’s a lot of moving parts. It’s kind of like logistical Tetris. All of the pieces are coming at you in quick succession and you have to get all of them to fit together in a certain time period. 
It’s times like these that having food boundaries is helpful, especially in terms of self-care. Because I already have an attitude that prizes planning, preparing, and protection of my food. For example, I am looking ahead to the future and realizing that I will have to prep more food than usual in advance. Both today for next week at our permanent residence. And then again in two weeks when it’s time to officially pull up stakes here and head to a new home in a new town.
I know a lot of people who forget to take care of themselves in difficult or unusual situations, times of change and upheaval. They forget to eat until they are starving and/or hangry. They forget to sleep enough because they need to get “one more thing” done. They don’t make time to take care of their bodies or their minds. 
And what’s more, they think they are doing the right thing, being honorable, sacrificing.
I am not saying that there is not a time to sacrifice. There is. There is beauty and honor and love in it. But I am going to suggest that moving apartments is not that time. If I had to sleep in a hotel for a night, I could do that. Having the internet turned on immediately is not life or death. (I even have a hotspot on my phone!) And since we change residences about every year or so, that would make for a lot of sacrifice, of my my health, my happiness, and my relationship (I don’t want to be cranky, angry, and taking things out on my husband) to basically be able to like stuff on Facebook. 
Getting my eating under control taught me about my own priorities. It taught me *how* to prioritize. And my well-being is my number one priority, followed closely by my husband’s well-being. Everything else is a situation that will pass. 
So I will have to do a bit more work today. But it will give me peace of mind and keep my head clear. I won’t be nervous about when or where my next meal will be. I will be able to think about all of the many things I have to get done, without worrying about how I am going to take care of my needs. I will be free to go with the flow of life.
But one of the best things about logistical Tetris is that all of the pieces come in rapid succession, but then they are in place, and it’s done. And then I can look forward to getting to know a new place and a new community. And that’s definitely the fun part of a life of traveling.

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