leaning in to fall away

See, I am walking and the path is very narrow with a foot thick and 50 foot high glass walls on both sides. I can see distorted images of what a normal life would look like through the glass, but I cannot scale the wall nor break out. All I have is my naked body and the support and love of others talking to me through the glass and moving along side me. And I see doctors and my therapist and do the tests and the protocols and the research and the everything, all in hopes that there will be a diagnosis or diagnoses to say, "Ah, here we go," and we'll treat the disease and then the glass will crack and shatter and back in the world of the living I will be. I'd take slices and scars from the crash if it set me free.

This is for HER

The right here and right now. I always wanted this space, this "brand" if you will, to be about the real me taking care of myself. Skincare and makeup aren't going anywhere. This is simply the soul beauty self care portion. 


There is a photo in our entry way, which is also the hallway to our kitchen, that I walk past hundreds of times a week. It's me at the beach in 2010 at 245 pounds, after 130 pounds of weight loss from RNY Gastric Bypass. I'm the thinnest I have been since I graduated high school 16 years ago. A handful of those passings I notice it, and for as long as I can remember it has either brought shame that I am no longer that small or pride that I am losing weight and almost back there. 

Because that's when I was happy. 

Because, for me, I was thin. 



"Don't try to lose weight."

I must have looked confused, like he was speaking a language I don't know. My first thought was, "What? No way I heard that correctly." 

So he, the best endocrinologist in Seattle, said it again. 

My second thought was, "No one will believe me."