January 31, 2020. A year into this crazy weight loss journey. 6 months later I have learned its really not about the final destination, but everything I checked off the list along the way.
I’m pretty sure at that point I had been on fish and asparagus for 5 meals a day for the last few weeks. Working out 4 hours a day. Not working on my business but my body. Obsessing about water intake, when I had to stomach fish and asparagus next. Who was going to watch the baby while I worked out?
It was all-consuming. Obsessive. I have watched soooo many babes go through this and the mental load but I HAD NO IDEA UNTIL I WAS IN IT.
The weekend after this photo was taken I had a bad weekend with Violet. There was an incident with a box of cheerios. An unknown amount of protein bars, and who knows what else I ate. But I was fucking starrrrrrving. Starving.
Then I got back on routine.
Then we had a crazy family incident and I made the decision to push back the show another month to the end of March. I was watching all the Corona stuff going on in the wee hours of the morning on CNN before it was even really talked about. I watched this “mysterious illness” take over China. I started to get skeeved out by the gym. I was getting scared of taking Violet to the childcare gym due to my mom’s immune issue.
I started slacking off. Then I started binging. My body was starving. Stressed. Not enough sleep, brainpower, angry fits. Think PMS on steroids. I literally ate anything I could get my hands on. I hid food from the family. I was legit possessed like an addict. My willpower wasn’t my own because my body was so starved it went into fight or flight mode.
And then I took over the whole lease at Escobar in the middle of my slow season.
Then Corona officially hit the media full force here.
Then the shutdown.
Homeschool.
Hurricane learning to climb out of the crib = no more naps.
No income.
America literally falling apart before our eyes.
The fear of my mother dying from this virus.
What a shit show. Everyones everything was a shit show. We were “all in this together” but not really. Everyone’s circumstances were different and their struggles were different.
I knew what I was doing was bad for my body and my health so I decided to cut the sugar cold turkey. I went through withdrawals like a mofo. For two weeks solid I felt like I got thrown down a flight of stairs. My whole body ached. I slept all the time. I got full-body acne. I withdrew from everything except my inner circle.
I do not wish how I felt on anyone. But it was my body’s right to say fuck you for doing that. So I hired a hormone coach @drheatherrhodes to get my body back to where it needed to be.
Today, 6 months later, I actually have the photoshoot I had booked for post bikini competition.
I’m 20 pounds heavier.
I keep getting asked, “why don’t you push it back?” NOPE. Because you know what? I tell women to celebrate themselves wherever they are at and own that shit. I tell them to own their scars, own the body that has brought you here.
Today’s photoshoot isn’t about feeling sexy or trying to find myself. Today is about having fun, celebrating the shit show of 2020 and owning who I am right now.
I do not feel bad about what happened because I learned so much about myself in the process. In every negative event, there is always a positive. Sometimes it’s hard to see but I promise you can find it.
Cheers my friends.
