Moving Forward

There is something about New Years that always stresses me out.

A night that should be filled with joy and anticipation of all the exciting things yet to come, I, year after year, find myself anxiously worrying about what kind of resolution I should make. I crawl through every nook and cranny of my brain, shoveling through the thousands of things about myself I want to change.

Maybe I should resolve to lose 30 pounds?

Perhaps I should decide to focus on my career? I can resolve to bring my photography into "full-time" status?

Or should I make a resolution based on my home?

To clean more? Save more money? Finish all the projects I have yet to begin?

Maybe I can choose my resolution based who I am to those I love?

I can be a better Mother? A better Wife? A better Daughter? A better person all around?

But in the end, after hours of wrestling with the the thought of narrowing down all of my potential resolutions into one solid decision- I give up.

I just give up.

And that is how I start my New Year- tired and defeated.

A few days ago I had a beautiful opportunity to spend some time with people I most likely never would have. As most rare and beautiful opportunities- it offered golden conversation. 

One particular conversation struck and resonated with me deep in my core.

The conversation began over a mutual love of photography, but somehow moved to thoughts of travel. We both agreed that to travel the world, to see beyond our lives, to experience outside of ourselves is a terrifying yet great desire. 

We also agreed that to do that there would need to be many things in our lives different than they are now. 

So what is it that holds us back from our desires?

What keeps our passion tucked neatly inside ourselves, safe from mirrored judgement?

It is not a fear of failure.

It is not a lack of funds.

It is not a single stereotypical thought.

It is what we are to others. 

Who we need to be.

Who we need to be that keeps us safely far away from who and what we want to be. 

In one way it is about Self Sacrifice.

But in every other way it's about making a Decision.

So this New Year's Eve, as I struggle with the stress of making that resounding resolution- I have made a decision.

My decision is Myself.

Not the self that my family relies on. Or the self my children need. Or the self that longs to do all the things I am "supposed" to do.

But the self only I know.

The self that lives passionately in my gut, struggling to come out as I violently push it back into silence. 

I choose Me.

Now, It would be nice if I could end my Post here. Leave you inspired to "throw caution to the wind" and be the most honest version of yourself.

But that would be a lie.

It is not possible to give up the side of you that others rely on and to ask that of ourselves would be unfair. But we can resolve to allow the deepest part of us out to visit a little more often. 

And that is what I resolve.

So this year will be different. 

I am not starting it off tired and defeated.

I am starting this year with open ears and an open heart.

I vow to take more chances and risk just a little bit more for the sake of myself. 

What will you do for yourself?

The Goddess.

The Fool I am grateful for the rain, the storms, the snow, the pain, the hurt, the darkness. I am grateful for the ridicule, the disapproval, the contempt, the shunning. I am grateful for the neglect, the abuse, the beatings, the molestation, the abandonment. I am grateful for the sense of inferiority, immaturity, inadequacy, imperfection. I am grateful for the illness, the disease, the destruction, the death, the despair. I am grateful for the want, the need, the envy, the selfishness, the lust, the jealousy. I am grateful for the ugliness, the obesity, the awkwardness, the clumsiness, the deformities. I am grateful for the stupidity, the ignorance, the slowness, the illiteracy, the lack of education, the inability to learn. I am grateful for the rejection, the betrayal, the shame, the failure, the humiliation. I am grateful for the anger, the hatred, the resentment, the terror, the fear, the cowardice.I am grateful for all these dark things and all the dark things spawned by these dark things. I am grateful for all the ice-hard shadows whose ragged, savage edges have ripped my soul open to Thy Light.

Copyright @1999-2010 S. C. Norwood.  All rights reserved.  http://www.mandarava.com/sacredfemale/the_fool.htm Today I felt drawn to the idea of the Sacred Feminine. The Divine Female. The Goddess. (Or any of the thousands of other names She holds.) I can't talk about history, or religion, or even ideology- at least not on this topic. But something, Something is drawing me here, pulling me, guiding my heartstrings to this place of holiness.  As I began to research and read I was somehow directed to the above affirmation. It ate away at me. It grounded me. It connected me to all women- all goddesses- everywhere. See, deep down I believe in the Sacred Female. Like I mentioned before, I may not know her history, her religion, her philosophy- but I believe in her because I am Her. We are all Her.... We always have been. She is there buried somewhere deep within us. Unfortunately, somewhere, somehow we have allowed ourselves to lose our divinity. We have ALLOWED others to take her from us, to Steal away such an essential part of our being. Scratch that... to Steal away what is essentially our ENTIRE Being. So. Right here, Right now I pledge to take Her back.  I pledge to open up my heart, my body, my spirit, my Being to Her. And I pledge to remember that She lives in me because She IS Me.  Breathe. Open. Release. Just Be. "We must find ways to heal the wounded feminine in our own hearts and souls." -m.starbird Welcome Home My Friend.

Jump In...the water's fiiiiiiine!

I am pale.
Really Pale. 
I may even go so far as to say I am clear.
So, as you may imagine- swimsuit season is not my favorite. (And i think it's fair to say that the majority of you can relate in one way or another.) 

For the last 5 years I have hid my thighs and viewed them as large, white, disgusting masses which ooze the embarrassment of cellulite & stretch marks. (Yummmmm) .....
 I had given up on them. Condemned them to darkness forever. 
      ....or at least until last Saturday.

I don't know what made me do it, what made me stop caring. And quite frankly I am not so sure it matters. What matters is: I did it! I removed the shorts and jumped in the water with confidence... And by golly it felt amazing! The world did not crumble. No one told me to go back into hiding- in fact I doubt anyone even noticed. But for me, the baring of one of my greatest bodily insecurities has given me a new sense of reality. I am what I am. I am where I am. Wishing to be someone or somewhere else is dishonoring. Give light to the moment- whatever that may be.


A friend of mine once said to me, "I am what I am.... and that is enough."

Right now I am a Woman working to expose her insecurities and better herself in hopes of providing a more wholesome life for both herself and her family. And there is no doubt about it- my cellulite & stretch mark thighs are advertising a whole new level of comfort in an imperfect perfection.  Come on in with me- the water is just fine!

Health & Heartbeats

I often blog in my shower.

I mean, I obviously don't hang out alternating soap and the space bar, but I think exactly what I wish to say. It is always eloquent, clear, and moving with a very distinct voice.
Then reality hits. The water stops, and I watch as all that clarity and courage circles down the drain.
This is the exact reason why I haven't written since taking the plunge into blog #1.  
Believe me I have tried.

A friend of mine said something to me recently that hit very close to my soul. "You don't talk. You don't like to say things because you're afraid that once you do they will become real. Well I have news for you- they are real whether you say them or not."

Sometimes we all need a reminder and I think him for mine. I want to help other men and women speak more openly and freely about their own body images and the issues that surround them. And in order for me to do that- I need to get started talking about mine. I imagine there will be times when it is slow going, times when it may not make any sense, and times when it may not be in any way inspirational, rather dark and empty. The goal is to keep it honest and share my journey- whatever that may be...

So, on that note.......


Tonight I started running. 

I know what you're thinking- "Who cares. No big deal."

Well, I assure you- for me it is a HUGE deal. My motto has always been: "I don't run unless something is chasing me." So to willingly run for enjoyment- its nothing short of pure madness.
I am starting on the couch to 5k plan because I am pretty sure I have zero endurance right now. In fact, before starting tonight I tried to quick-charge my phone battery so I could have a way to call home when I inevitably keeled over and died. I am happy to say that was a worry wasted. 

But more important than WHAT I am doing, is WHY I am doing it. After all, isn't that at the root of all we do?

So tonight, while blogging in the shower, I thought about why exactly I decided to start running. I was surprised to find that the answer wasn't just to lose weight.

Now, don't get me wrong. That is certainly in my mind. When I looked int he mirror today I thought "ok. I can handle this. Im not super fat. And I've had 2 kids... " but the real answer was more than that. It was, "to get out. to lose weight. to feel better. and to connect with me."

I'm actually surprised at the honestly I had with myself. I want to be skinnier.But more than that I would like to feel better. Lately I have been feeling old and frumpy. More like a big old blob than a mom constantly on the run. But I also discovered that I wanted to start running for me, to get in touch with myself and really listen. How often do we brush off our thoughts, tuck them away to the back of our minds giving them little to no respect?? It happens all to often. I have, especially recently, been putting the needs/wants/whims of everyone else ahead of mine. So- for me- 30 minutes, 3 times a week is a wonderful, beautiful start to listen to what my silence is saying. And even, just for a moment, value myself enough to not just brush it away. 

Your thoughts are waiting. Pull them out of the dark. Listen... what are they saying to you?

It Started with a Secret...

.... Or should I say "The release of a secret..."


On Tuesday, February 21st 2012 I wrote a Facebook note and shared it with my family and friends as well as on my Photography page. It unveiled a secret that I had been holding on to for quite some time.
I wrote that note to help other women (and men) who may have been going through similar experiences.


This blog is a continuation of that note.


I suppose that would be a good place to start.

National Eating Disorder Awareness Week. -----> This.Is.My.Story.

We all have secrets. Some thrill us. Some haunt us. Some make us smile. Some shame us. And some really aren't as quiet as we think they are. But the one truth that carries through the core of all secrets is Silence. 

This is My Story. 

I started studying dance at the age of 2.5. I became a Dancer at the age of 8. That was the age I made the decision to study with a much more serious school in the hopes of making a successful career of it. It was also the age that I started comparing myself to other girls- other dancers. They were all so tiny. And though I was nowhere near fat (actually I am pretty sure I was just as tiny as they were) I started to feel inadequate. 

I honestly can't tell you when I started witholding food, but I was young. I do know that it started with guilt and ignorance. I had no concept of what was healthy and what wasn't. And honestly, I had no desire to learn. I just wanted to make sure I was super skinny. I remember standing in front of the mirror arching my shoulders slightly forward so that my clavicals would stick out further. I wanted my skin to be sunken in and my bones to be seen. To me, that was beautiful. 

My unhealthy relationship with my both food and my body was something that I hid pretty well. I ate only when in front of my family because deep down I was ashamed and I didn't want to deal with the lectures. Occasionally the pain of hunger would get so bad I would have to give in. For situations like that I carried saltines with me. If I only ate one or two it would take the pain away and I could still lose weight.

When I was 14 I injured my knee while rehearsing. I was heartbroken. The healing process was long and although eventually my doctor deemed me fit to dance, my instructor deemed me unfit to be a serious dancer. No, he never did say those words- but to my teenage self it certainly felt that way. I had gained a little weight from not being able to exercise (realistically, I was probably a healthy weight but there was no way I wanted that.) and in every class my instructor would point out that my muscles weren't tight enough, which in the dance world is a huge deal- especially to me. 

My insecurities increased even more, which meant my desire to be skinny also increased and intensified. More hiding. More Hunger. More control. More obsession.

Finally, there was a change. My best friend convinced me to audition for a summer theatre group. Something to do just for fun. I truly believe that in a way, that group ended up saving me. 

The director had an incredible ability to see things in his students that they may not be able see themselves. He took a group of kids who all had their own battles and taught them how to create something powerful. It was an environment that was challenging but filled with positive energy and encouragement. And boy did I love that world. 

Once summer ended I continued taking classes. I was growing more and more confident in myself  and slowly more comfortable with my body. Now, I am not saying that I still didn't withold food- I did. Changes like that don't happen overnight. But I was happier. 

I wish I could say to you that I was "cured." I wasn't. But I was given something I hadn't had in a long time: confidence in myself. And because of that I was, with a lot of time and a lot of hard work, able to build a much healthier relationship with my body and my food. 

Today I am 27 years old and a mother of 2 beautiful children. There are still many days that I look at myself and feel that gut-wrenching desire to be skinnier or the overwhelming feeling of inadequacy and uncertainty. There are still moments that I touch my clavicals and think about how I wish they were more prominent, or my shoulder blades stuck out further, or I was just all around prettier.  There are still times when the thought of not eating at all is so overwhelmingly appealing to me. But I fight it. I fight harder than I have ever fought before. Because there is nothing scarier to me than the thought of my children going through that. They NEED to know without a shadow of doubt in their minds that they are beautiful. They NEED to be comfortable in their own skin. And deep down I know that it starts with me. 

So today I choose to break the silence.

-Christy Lynn Jerome DeLong-

February 21st, 2012

In honor of National Eating Disorder Awareness Week. 2012.Share Your Story.