Chip on My Pretty Little Shoulder

I’m going to attempt to write this without any hesitation. No emotional edits. No disclaimers. I’m going to attempt to write it, really, with all my unfiltered thoughts and feelings pouring onto the page. Knowing me, ever the diplomat who is always sensitive to the effect of words, this will be quite the feat. And if you are reading this at all, it will most likely be an edited and emotionally correct version of my self*. Nevertheless… here we go.

I have heard, over and over again, the assertion that when a “fat girl” loses weight she develops a “chip on her shoulder”. As in, she suddenly thinks she is “too hot to handle”. And won’t give people, whom she would have “happily given a chance before”, the time of day. And she becomes, among more colorful words, “conceited”.

Soooo… by this estimation, I’m left to assume that it’s perfectly okay to be rejected because of my weight, but when that’s no longer an “issue”, I’m suddenly a hypocrite for having preferences? Of course you’re not shallow for only caring about my physical appearance, you’re just being honest. But heaven forbid I should express any of my “honest preferences” while my weight is “still an issue”! Obviously, I’m expected to accept whatever schlep is thrown my way.


The day I reached a PR on deadlifts (205lbs)

You see this woman – with her back fat, and her thighs that rub together, and her giggly midsection; this woman with her lungs about to collapse, who panics at the thought of running a mile and wants to cry in the face of burpees; this woman right here is the only one strong enough to fight for the woman you’ll claim to love later. If you don’t like her, if you can’t imagine yourself being attracted to her, how could you possibly love the one she’s building? The one only she is strong enough to become?

Why should I feel guilty for wanting to be with someone who’s adopting the same healthy lifestyle as I am? I’ve worked so hard to leave where I was, why would I want to be with someone who’s going to drag me back there. Lean or Not… Fat or Skinny, I don’t want to be with someone who’s not active. Someone who I have to drag to the gym kicking and screaming. Someone who’s “put off” by the thought of eating healthy. In the same way I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want to serve in church. I want someone who finds those things just as important as I do so we can be working towards the same goals. It’s called being compatible! But if you want to call it a chip, tattoo it on my shoulder with permanent ink.

A friend asked me if I thought losing weight would change me. And the fact is, yes it does. It is. It continues to change me. This isn’t about replacing a few items on your plate. You have to go through so much. You have to give up so much. You have to accept so much. Of course it changes you. How could you possibly stay the same as your life morphs into something unknown?

Yes, you develop more confidence. You feel better about yourself. Your looks. Your abilities. But I’ve never really had an issue with being confident. If anything, I am often accused of being borderline intimidating because of my confidence. But even that has changed. Previously, I used my confidence as a heavy shield – to protect myself from the painful judgments caused by my weight. Now this confidence is morphing into an adorning accessory. It’s beautiful to wear, but I don’t need it to protect me anymore. And if that’s a chip, I’ll gladly wear it on my pretty little shoulder.

~that’s life… in no particular order

*This post has been sitting in my draft box since December 1, 2014… reviewed, reevaluated, and reconsidered multiple times… But never changed from my original thoughts and feelings.



I thoroughly enjoy my brother’s writing, especially when it’s in my defense 😉

the parentals

Dear single people,

Get married already.

Now that I’ve got the attention of married people:

Dear married people, [I know some of you were thrilled by that initial statement, but…]

Single people aren’t looking at us in awe and wonder, begging for our lives and our help. They don’t sit at home, presumably still with their parents, by the window yearning for our lifestyle. I’m also pretty sure they’re not wandering through the wilderness in bewilderment, suicidal, and in need of a spouse… in need of your help. Their lives aren’t pointless or meaningless if they don’t look like yours. Additionally, marriage isn’t something they’re longing to “accomplish” through your guaranteed 12 step program; and incidentally, yes, that is the message you’re broadcasting.

I know this because they’ve told me. I know because I’m tired of having to prove myself as not being like you other married people.

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A Love I Could Not Deserve

I am Katniss Everdeen. Selfish. Self-absorbed. Manipulative. Prideful. Faithless. And completely underserving of a love like Peeta Mellark.

Yes, I am writing about The Hunger Games again, specifically, Mockingjay. I had to.

I was so utterly disgusted and fed up with Miss Everdeen in this third installment. Whatever pitiable quality she possessed died on those 398 pages and the movie did little to help revive them. I loathed the way she used loved as a tool… A weapon to get what she wanted. The way she flitted back and forth between “friends”, but never without her own self-gratifying motives at the forefront of her every actions. The way she woefully (and endlessly) mourned her own pain while callously wounding others. The way she repeatedly cast before swine the pearls of love she received from Peeta… was the most sickening and frustrating thing of all because…

Because I am Katniss Everdeen. Foolishly self-reliant. Blindly disobedient. Emotionally ignorant. Disastrously arrogant. I cannot accept a love given so completely, it shames all the strings attached to mine. I cannot abide a love so pure, it reveals all the ugly filth of mine. And when confronted with a love offered so freely, I am angry for a debt that cannot be paid with mine.

I have spent the last few weeks ruminating on Miss Everdeen, trying to figure out what it was that irked me so sorely. Clearly she does not deserve Peeta! She does not appreciate him the way I would if his character didn’t only exist in books to torment me! And that’s when I realized, I am her and she is me. I am at the mercy of the love of Christ. Pure, complete, free. A love I could not deserve, a love that holds me to a mirror and reveals to me all the reasons why. Yet, rather than gratefully accepting, I mindlessly deny. I cast aside this priceless gift in hopes of attaining something I can afford. I cast before swine His rare pearl for something I “deserve”.

A Love That Sets a Heart on Fire

I never thought I would write this. I always imagined my blog – though a blog about everything and nothing in particular – was a blog of… substance… maturity dabbled with quirky humor. A blog intelligent people could enjoy. But seeing as it is my blog about “life in no particular order”, it is my prerogative to blog about what’s going on in my life. And at the present, my heart beats with love stronger than ever before. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have a crush on Peeta Mellark.

While women were swooning over Gale Hawthorne, pining for his first kiss with Katniss Everdeen, I was nail biting at the edge of my seat secretly pleading for Peeta to be the victor. While they were rolling their eyes and sighing in exasperation at his puppy dog eyes, I was huddled with my stomach in knots over his wounded heart. And that first kiss with the handsome Mr. Hawthorne was an agonizing knife I had to suffer quietly while others rejoiced.

Now before you all start sending me hate mail, please understand that I like Gale. I would never denounce his rugged good looks. He clearly cares for Katniss, they have a number of things in common, and they are good friends. He’s a provider and a fighter. I have nothing against him.

I also have nothing against Katniss. She is caught between two worlds – loving Gale but having to be with Peeta. And to complicate the issue, she is slowly realizing that people are more complex than she previously assumed and that loving one does not equal hating the other.

But for me, while Katniss is the action heroine of the film, Petta is the embodiment of heroic and sacrificial love. From the first installment, every move, every alliance, every promise made or broken was done in an effort to protect Katniss – often at the expense of himself. He is not a good fighter. He does not know squat about hunting and seems like a lost lamb in the woods. In fact he is often wounded and usually at the point of death. But what skills he does have; (interpersonal and intrapersonal intelligence to start with) he uses to promote or protect her.

In The Hunger Games, while she made it clear she disliked him, while she was only worried about staying alive, he formed an alliance with the enemies in order to distract them from her trail. He had no way of benefiting from that and only got wounded and left for dead. In Catching Fire, we find that he is the one caring for Hamish. Knowing she does not love him, he is willing to play out his part in order to protect her family. And even more so, he volunteers, having been through that hell and knowing his chances of survival are slim so that he can increase her chances of surviving. Again, at absolutely no benefit to himself. How can you possibly fault me for wanting a love like that… A love that sets a heart on fire?

**If you have not seen part two yet, I will try not to completely spoil it for you.**

There is a scene in the movie where Katniss finally comes face to face with the reality of how devastating it would be for her to lose Peeta. Much like the rest of the movie, the scene focuses on Katniss’ emotions without giving much attention to how much more love must have been pumping through Peeta’s heart all this time. While watching the scene, President Snow’s young granddaughter comments, “someday I want to love a boy that much”. My simple reply to her is, “me too”.