Doing it.

That's it, I've decided. I'm going to start my plan of becoming fit, again. 

This will about the..oh, 4th time now? I thought the last time I did it, that it would be the time it would "stick". Because, I finally had healthy eating and working out down pat. I had no problems, no slip ups, and I was truly happy. Honestly, I was.

But... (there's always a but, isn't there?), it all came back on. The 40-50lbs I had worked so hard to lose was back. And bigger than ever. Not because I became lazy or careless, because I got sick. Really, really sick. It was my Senior year of high school, and I was stuck on bed rest for 3 months. Now, you all know the last 3 months of Senior year. Prom, yearbook pictures, the whole 9. Yeah, I wasn't there for half of that. And it killed me. 

The doctors weren't sure what was wrong with me. Heck, I wasn't sure what was wrong. And still, to this day, neither of us know what exactly what it was that brought me to be put on bed rest. All I know is that it's happened a three or four times now, throughout the span of my life. And each time, it gets a little worse. It's scary.. really, really scary, but it's something I've learned to accept and live with. 

The pain eventually went away, I was able to start walking around more. Start living again, pretty much. But it just wasn't the same. I wasn't the same. I was big. Bigger. Because I had spent the last 2 months (When I was able to eat again), just eating. Everything.. literally. I had no self control, at all. I was miserable. I mean, come on.. If you can't walk or do anything, what else is there to do? So, of course, I ate. Watched the same tv shows every single day, and ate. I still can barely watch tv without wanting to scarf down everything in sight. It's sad, I know. 

And ever since my Senior year of high school, 3 years ago, I have been getting bigger... and bigger. From the weight I was before I got sick, I have gained a total of 95lbs. It honestly makes me break down and cry just typing it out.

I'm unhappy.. depressed, even. I can't help it. I hate my body image. I have zero confidence. And what hurts even more is that I have one, literally one, picture of me with Olive. That makes me cry even more. Because when I look back at these pictures, pictures of her or her and Vaughn, I'm going to regret not having any pictures of her and I. 

I need to do this. And not even just for myself, for Vaughn and Olive. They're the reason that I'm going to do this, because they're the one's that deserve it. Vaughn deserves a happier me. A me that doesn't include being a nag, or not wanting to be intimate because I'm afraid of how he'll see me.

 I cry, a lot, because of how I look. I thought that after I had Olive, the weight would fall off of me. Wrong. It didn't even trickle off of me. It just..stayed. So far I've only lost 20lbs. Now that might seem like a lot to most people, but not to me. Because I gained a total of 50lbs when I was pregnant with O, and I was already 20+ lbs heavier before that. I had let myself go, and I accepted it. 

I want to create a new me, the old me, because I deserve it as well. I want to be happy again. I want to be able to be in pictures, not always behind them. I want to love my body, and feel sexy. Yes, I said it, sexy. Because whether we say it or not, we all want it. 

So, this is the turning point. This is when I change my life for the better. Yeah, I know, it's really close to the holidays. Which is definitely going to be a challenge. But if I can break through that enormous barrier, I can do anything. I'm going to start tracking things on here, so that I have something to hold me accountable. I feel like it'll help, a lot. And so, goodbye overweight, obese, fat Jess. I can honestly say that you are not going to be missed. Not one bit. 

xo, Jess.

Day Three: 31 Days of Being A New Mom

My weight has been my mortal enemy since before I could even remember. 

I was a chubby girl when I was younger, and I had the hardest time dealing with it. I was constantly fixated on the fact that I was big. Huge, in my opinion. Because that's how it always is, right? You always feel like you're bigger than you actually are. Like your tiny, barely even there, love handles are the most noticeable in the world. Or your so-called "thunder thighs" are the size of mountains and no matter what you do or how you dress, they just.won't.change. 

Yeah. That was my outlook for pretty much my entire life. No matter what I did, or how much weight I lost, I was still that "fat kid". 

My mom came to the conclusion that I had what she called a "fat head". Because back when I considered myself fat? I was not fat at all. 

I look back at myself at that age, at that weight, and I'm like, "What in the hey was I thinking?! I was so skinny! Look at my legs! I thought those were fat?!" 

Heck, if I could look half as good as I did back then, during my "fat kid" stage, I would be one happy camper. Because, let's be honest, I am a lot bigger than I have ever been. If I was as big as I am now, back then, I'm not sure what I would have thought. I probably would have had an anxiety attack or something, and just plain ol' died. Because back at that age, weight was everything to me. Self image, yadda yadda. 

Now? Well, it's a whole different story. I still dislike my self image, on an extreme level, but I've somewhat come to terms with it. Not in the sense that I'm going to give up ever trying to lose weight and just become even more of an enormous blob. Because trust me, I do not want to be like this forever. 

But I've accepted the fact that my body isn't going to be like how it used to be. My skin isn't going to be as tight and my hips will never be how they were. But, that's okay. Why, you ask? Because this body of mine pushed out a tiny human being. Now if that isn't an excuse for being a little chunky, I don't know what is.  

When I was pregnant I had a really rough time accepting the fact that my body was changing, and fast. Because, let's face it, you go from normal you... to "oh my God" sized you, in less than a year. That's one heck of a transformation! 

But with having a child, comes changes. In your lifestyle, marriage, bank account, and especially, your body. It's something to be proud of though, tiger stripes and all. Because you went through one of the most rewarding, yet exhausting, things that anyone can go through.

You made, grew and gave life to another person. 

So, with that said, I try and be a little less critical about my body. And I think every mother should as well. Things will shift back to how they were and you'll look a little more like you and less like the "oh my God" sized you. But it takes time. And even though you won't look as great as you once did, it won't matter. Because you'll have that little pride and joy stumbling along next to you, and that right there, is something to be proud of. 

xo, Jess.