I don’t always participate in those Facebook challenges that get passed around. You know the ones: answer a bunch of random questions about your favorite things, post a happy picture for 100 days, dump a bucket of ice water over your head. But sometimes I decide to play along (I’m a sucker for the writing ones, 7 Lines from Page 7 of Your Work in Progress, anyone?) Yesterday, the awesome Alexis Anne, tagged me in the I’m Beautiful Just the Way I Am Challenge in which you are tasked with choosing five photographs you feel beautiful in and posting them. I’m sure I’ve been tagged in this in the past, and just scrolled right on by, but this time I decided to pause and take the challenge. Continue reading
A friend of mine posted this challenge on Facebook on New Years Eve: describe 2015 in three to five words. Five words? A whole year to summarize. I write 65,000 word novels and struggle to keep my weekly blog posts at around 300 words (this one is way over, folks). Despite the difficulty, I loved her idea of summarizing all those year-end thoughts in this really concise way. I chose these five words: Continue reading
There’s an awesome dialogue about health and wellness and whole-ness going on here. After reading it I feel enlightened. And embarrassed. Why? Because the concept of fat talk is something I never thought about.
My personal philosophy on life embraces kindness to self and others as its overarching value. My education in counseling taught me about encouraging strength in people. Yet I had never considered the impact of my internal and external dialogue about weight. How many times have I thought or said things like, those three miles I ran this morning totally off-set that cinnamon bun I just ate? How many jokes have I made about my beer belly? How much have I talked about the fact that the apple I ate is totally counteracting that chocolate bar? Or lamented I’m so bloated?
This was never directed at others, always at myself (though I’m sure I haven’t contradicted others when they have uttered these phrases about themselves). But why is this the dialogue? Why not say instead: I’m so proud of myself for running three miles today. Or damn that was a good cinnamon bun/beer/apple/chocolate bar. Or I should probably drink some water; that creamy soup didn’t sit so well.
Even more important for my dialogue to change since my professional role involves being a trusted resource for college students. And while I am appalled at this counselor’s terrible response to a serious situation and can’t imagine what would possess someone to say that, I can’t ignore my own vocabulary.
So I pledge to be more aware. To stop the fat talk. To start instead the health talk. The wellness talk. The whole-ly, beautifully, uniquely me and you talk.