My Body, Your Body

If you didn't instantly start singing Pretty Ricky's 2005 legendary hit upon reading that title, you are lying.

It's ironic that I'm writing about body image because as I type this I'm drinking kombucha and munching on celery sticks. Which in and of itself isn't all that bad except that this is all I've eaten so far today (2:10 PM over here). So it turns out this is still something I'm working on. How timely.

I've struggled with body image for a very long time. I can't tell you how many diets I've been on and exercise programs I've started and only a couple times completed (you can read about one of them here and here). My weight has yo-yo'd all of my life, from 115 (at a time when I was struggling the most with depression and anxiety) all the way to 145 (when I had a constant inner monologue of treat yo self).

It's a work in progress, hence why it's one of my 30 Before 30 goals.

There are parts of my body that I hate (my arms) but also parts that I love (my butt) and even parts that I'm like yeah, okay whatever (hooray for small boobs!). Let's be real, I'm probably never ever going to love my big arms. But I have started to appreciate them. They help me do countless Chaturangas during an hour of yoga in a 90 degree room. I love that I'm one of the few females in my pilates and yoga classes to choose full plank push-ups. So although my arms are not as petite as I'd like them to be, they do a hella good job of getting me through a 6am yoga sesh.

Challenge: pick something you dislike (or even hate) about your body and instead of trying to to use the Snapchat beauty filter or just ignore its existence altogether, find a way to appreciate that part of you.

And if you can't do this for you, do it for the little girls who call you mommy, gramma, or auntie. We learn to hate our bodies from society so let's try to change the conversation.

If You're Happy and You Know It

Keep it to yourself. Just kidding. Kind of.

I recently had a friend (thanks, David) challenge me to set some pre-30 goals for myself. I was a little offended when he handed me the piece of paper with headers like "Physical Goals" and "Career Goals." Uhmmm I have the body of a goddess and I lean all the way in. I don't need goals. And then I actually thought about it.

I had realized long before this that I was unhappy. In my personal life. In my career. With my body. In fact, for at least the last year I had been asking myself, "What the eff do I want?"

And I wasn't able to come up with an answer, in large part, because I was terrified of the unknown.

What happens when I admit that my career isn't where I thought it would be? What happens when I admit that I thought I'd be married by now (gross)? What happens when I admit that I hate my body?

I was afraid of the truth and how that would affect my life. If I acknowledged that I was this incredibly unhappy I would also have to acknowledge that a change has to take place. And change is scary.

So I'm not happy and I'm not clapping my hands. But in the spirit of my midyear resolution of trying to be more positive, there is a silver lining here. Because I'm actually going to do something about it.

I have many goals that I want to accomplish by the time I'm 30 and I have listed them all below (more so for my own accountability than your approval) but I wanted to talk about three of them that I think will resonate with a lot of you. So over the course of the next few weeks, I'm going to write about these three areas - what they are, how I'm going to accomplish them, and ways for you to accomplish similar goals.

I hope I challenge you to be a better version of yourself regardless of whether you're 27 or 72. I hope I challenge you to stop and take stock of where you are at in your life, wherever that may be. Life gives us endless opportunities to reinvent ourselves, I hope you jump at them.

30 Before 30

Stop judging my writing style (and accept the genre I'm most clearly cut out for)

Write a novel (AKA, actually finish one that I start)

Continue blogging at least twice a week

Obtain a management position

Cut out all dairy from my diet

Drink at least the daily recommended amount of water (I am so bad at this)

Drink less coffee

Regularly work out five days a week

Learn how to play tennis (I'm serious)

Be able to do the middle splits (Yup, serious about this one too)

Run a full marathon

Attend regularly scheduled check ups with a therapist

Wear more sunscreen

Visit Europe

Visit Asia

Vacation on the west coast

Move to NYC (eek!)

Pay off all debt (including student loans)

Acquire $10k in savings (which I should totally already have but Crate & Barrel exists soooo)

Acquire $5k in an emergency fund

Triple what's currently in my retirement account

Move into a one bedroom apartment

Go skydiving

Learn a second language (this one might be lofty)

Learn how to change a tire

Learn how to sew 

Go on one date a month

Go on second dates

Stop ghosting on guys and actually tell them why I'm not interested

Stop taking it personally when someone isn't interested in me

My 2016 Summer Reading List

I'm trying to get back into my routine of regularly writing blog posts. My life is starting to slowly come back together and I'm no longer overwhelmed by the idea of committing to post two times a week. Did I mention my ability to handle stress? Ha. Anyways.

There is seriously nothing better than reading a juicy book while you're catching some rays next to a body of water. Alright, this scenario can always be improved by alcohol and cabana boys but I digress. So I wanted to share my shortlist of my summer reading. I say shortlist because there's about 30 books I want to read this summer and even I (a self-described logophile *Google it*) don't want to read a blog post consisting of 30 book reviews/synopeses so I've limited it to five. You're welcome.

Fair warning: I've only read two of these (The Cuckoo's Calling and Luckiest Girl Alive) and thus can only endorse these two with a clear conscience. I've heard only great things about the other three but hold on I'm getting ahead of myself. Ready? K. Here we go.

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The Cuckoo's Calling - Robert Galbraith (AKA, J.K. Rowling)
AKA, the greatest author of the 21st century. This boss lady's ability to create worlds is on par with God himself. And while this is absolutely nothing like HP, you will still fall in love with her ability to describe her characters with so much detail that you feel like you have known them your whole life. This mystery was obviously a page-turner right up until the ending which caught me completely off-guard. I hate when I can figure out an ending before the author leads me there but Rowling kept me guessing and had me saying "holy shit" out loud when the big reveal was finally made. It was also incredibly refreshing that there was a lack of a love story. Insert clapping emoji here. There's also two other books (and counting) in the series sooo say goodbye to real life while you hibernate with these for the next few weeks.

Luckiest Girl Alive - Jessica Knoll
Holy eff. If you haven't already read this, you need to do it now. No. Seriously. Put down your phone and drive straight to your local library. I absolutely lovedddd the main character in this novel. Why? Because she was real. She was a bitch. She made mistakes. She hurt people. I'm over the damsel in distress bullshit. Ani saves herself. If I haven't already convinced you, read her article in Lenny Letter about her experience with sexual assault and how it influenced her novel. Excuse me while I silently sob at my desk and simultaneously scream 'GIRL POWER!'.

The Girls - Emma Cline
Charles Manson? Say no more. I'm hooked. Emma Cline sold her novel to Random House after 11 other publishers participated in a bidding war over publishing rights. So that tells me that this is going to be cray. This fictional piece about the girls in Charles Manson's intimate circle is a coming-of-age tale that's creating some serious buzz in the publishing world and it's next on my "to read" list.

SweetBitter - Stephanie Danler
I first heard about this novel from my idol, Miss America 2013 Mallory Hagan who slays in basically everything she does and says. If she's endorsing it, I'm in. Synopsis: Young girl moves to New York to "be somebody" and we get to watch as she either makes or breaks it.

The Assistants - Camille Perri
A group of assistants quit playing by the rules and start embezzling money to finally get ahead.  This looks incredibly entertaining. Ethics is for the birds.

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This is in no way my complete list. I'm also throwing in some nonfiction like A Vast Conspiracy, a history of the events leading up to the impeachment of President Bill Clinton. What can I say? I'm a sucker for a sex scandal. Also, #HillzforPrez

Let me know if you are planning to read any of these. I'd also love to hear what you have on your list. Find me on Goodreads and let's be friends :)

Easy...Like Riding a Bike

You know those people who are just naturally good at whatever they do? The ones that are really good at a sport they've never even tried? Or can solve math problems that make your head hurt?

I am not one of those people.

I'm good at: writing (obviiiii), making people laugh, and watching TV. This is the extent of my natural ability. That's a lie. I'm also good at procrastinating, complaining, and eating. I digress.....

I am not good at a lot of things. I cannot handle stress. I have horrible balance. I'm short. I'm highly uncoordinated. Do you see where this is going? Riding a bike is not easy.

So because Metro is undergoing some serious maintenance for the next year (because they are a completely incompetent and corrupt transit system but that's a blog post for another day) I have resorted to biking into work. It's only 4 miles. "It's not that bad," I said. "It'll be fun," I said.

Today was day one.

First off, I borrowed this bike from my sister who is like 5 inches taller than me. Wait, let's go back - do bikes even come in sizes? Can I get a petite? I need a petite over here. Anyways, my feet don't touch the ground. I can barely stand on my tip toes on this thing and that's only if I lean the bike to one side.

It's also a Huffy. Okay, it's not actually a Huffy. I think the brand is Avalanche or something. Which may or may not be worse than Huffy because at least I've heard of Huffy. Regardless, this isn't a road bike for commuting. It's a huge piece of metal that will probably one day be my death trap. Honestly, I'm surprised I can stay upright. Which I actually can't. 

I fell over like 4 times today and every single time I was surrounded by people. Once was on M St. in the middle of Georgetown. If you don't know what that means, go to your nearest outdoor mall and imagine it being filled with rush hour traffic. Then fall over on a bike.

Getting to work was easy as far as actual physical exertion is concerned. It was basically all downhill. Getting home was almost impossible. There's a 260 ft elevation within the distance of one mile. Uhmm...how do you even bike up that without falling backwards? My thighs are still burning. And I could cry thinking about having to do it again.

How I managed to not get hit by a bus or a taxi or someone else on a bike I will never know. But I'm sure that day will soon be upon me.

Because this will be my main transportation for the next year.

All I can say is I better be in the best shape of my life when this is all over.

One

It's been one year.

I found him on Facebook the other day. I'm not sure what I was looking for. Would he have changed his profile picture to show him wearing a red 'R' on his chest? No, he's smiling at the camera while taking a selfie. Would he have typed some public, vague apology in a status update? No, he's posting about transgender bathroom rights.

And it's like I have to fight all over again. I fight him. I fight myself. I fight everyone else's thoughts about the situation and opinions about me. All at the same time.

* Did it really happen? * Did I imagine it? * I said no, right? * Maybe it was just an accident * Maybe I'm overreacting * It wasn't that bad * He didn't really hurt me * He must have had too much to drink * I guess I was dressed kind of provocative that night * I'm alive, aren't I? * He can't be a monster, he's in the Secret Service * I shouldn't have had that much to drink * Why didn't I have more to eat? * I should have drank more water * I shouldn't have gotten in his car * I shouldn't have gone in his apartment * What did I think was going to happen? * He did apologize the next day * 

It's amazing what your mind will do to you. And keep doing to you. Even after a year.

Last month, a woman was raped at knife point at 10am on a Tuesday while riding Metro - Washington, DC's public transit system - the same system I use almost every day. While I was checking emails, getting coffee, and probably bitching about work - she was below our feet being forced to pull down her pants as a man tried to penetrate her.

And I thought, I'm glad that wasn't me. But then I remembered.

You don't think it's going to happen to you. It's something that happens to people who aren't careful. Or maybe "they asked for it" (Just so you know - by definition, you can't ask for rape). You think it's something you see on the news. Or it happened to a roommate's friend in college. But never you. Yeah, I thought that too.

It's been one year.

And I can tell you that now more than ever I have a voice. I'm angry. I'm angry that this happened to me. And I'm angry that this continues to happen to millions of girls all over the world every day. And no one is saying anything about it. Because it wasn't them. It wasn't their daughter. Or mother. Or sister.

It might not be you today, but it might be you tomorrow. Please start saying something.