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The Weight Loss Saga: Mirrors, Lies, and Photographs

Before & After

Reflections are funny things. Unless you’re looking into a funhouse mirror, the reflection is always showing you the truth. The messages that we receive are always the right ones. Its our brains that distort the truth because for some reason or another, our self worth, our view of ourselves… is never as plain as what we see. This is especially true when it’s a full length mirror.

New Clothes Needed ASAP

I still see the fat girl in the mirror. I see that the number on the scale keeps going down, but I still see the fat girl in the mirror. My belt that I wear everyday didn’t even fit when I started this journey. I’ve now had to adjust it many many times. The mirror still shows me the same girl. I had to order smaller work shirts because my once “fitted” shirt and yoga pants look like they are all sagging and falling off of my frame. I run my hands down my arms and my hips and my thighs when I am in the shower and things feel more tone. I feel the definition in my muscle coming in. Things don’t jiggle as much and I can move my hands around my body with ease because it IS smaller than it was without a doubt.

But my mirror is still showing me the fat girl.

Really, I know it isn’t. Mirrors don’t actually lie. Right?

I would want to take photos for my man (yes, we will still call him that… I’m still living in that world in my head… so we will go with referring to him as such) and I would take a million photos before I felt ok with sending a single one. If I took a photo and then compared it to an old one, I would see the difference. But with each new shot, the fat girl is in every frame.

Its like I can only see the change in comparison to the old self. In comparing the way my clothes feel, the way my body can move, the way I can actually fit into new clothes, how I can scratch the parts of my back I used to not be able to reach… but my eyes still lie to me.

I wish I had the answer for you on exactly what point in the journey or what age or what size you look at yourself and say… “oh, there I am.” Unfortunately, I don’t know that. I think when you’ve been told your entire life that you are the fat girl… the one that isn’t good enough… pretty enough… built right… I think your brain sees what you are told and not who you are.

But, what I can say is that I am doing something now that I never did before. I’m going to be in the photos… take the photos… smile for them. I owe that to my love. Taking photos for him has allowed me to become more comfortable in my own skin. Even if I have miles to go, I am not going to be the one who hides in group photos or who goes years without updating photos because I just don’t want to take another photo of my round-ness.

I am going to have a sit down with the mirror, my brain, and my eyes… and we are going to figure this all out.

The Weight Loss Saga: My Trainer Tried to Kill Me & Battling my Bitchiness


Ok, I’m gonna be hella real here with you… Last week, I tried working out with a personal trainer for the first time in a loooooong time. It sucked. I wanted to vomit. I walked like I had been on a long horseback ride for the remainder of the week. It was embarrassing. To think of how hard I worked to lose all of the weight originally before my son was born and how hard I used to train doing API Caveman workouts like a pro… now, I had my ass handed to me by a slam ball and a prowler sled. I knew it wasn’t gonna be pretty. That is why I wanted to try out a trainer at a gym other than the one I work in. It was a very humbling experience and one that has not really helped with my recent depression episode. I have still been going to my Zumba classes, but have not been doing any weight training since then.

This week, I’ve made a conscious decision that I can either stay in my bed and do nothing and be unhappy or I can be gracious with myself and appreciate the journey that this is going to be to get back to where I need to be both emotionally and physically. I’ve kinda been a real bitch recently. Kinda. Sorta. Maybe a lot. I’ve been hurt these past few years and I resent myself and my body for allowing myself to fall so far. But, I can suck it up or I can shut it up. I can’t keep hurting others, allowing others to hurt me, and settle for the way things are. We are ALL made for more than mediocrity and crankiness.

Today, I decided I have to take big steps towards whatever that “more” is meant to be for me. I think I was shaking when I asked my trainer friend, Jillian, to help me. I couldn’t even get the words out without bursting into tears. Thankfully, she loves me and I didn’t even have to say much and she filled in the gaps for me. She asked me to send her when I was available and told me we would figure it all out. So, I’ll still want to vomit and still be sore as hell and waaaay behind where I desire to be, but I know she will keep me consistent, push me to where I need to be, and love me as long as I don’t throw up on her shoes.

But, I know that finding my rhythm with getting back into the gym is only HALF of the battle. I need to learn how to like myself again and have a healthy connection to my body… and less of a connection to my inner jaded beeotch. Being healthy is more than a number on a scale. It is reaching your total power… inside and out. It is shedding ALL of the excess weight that you carry: body, mind, and soul. So, part of “working on myself” has to be working with an emotional trainer… AKA a therapist. So, that is my next call on Monday morning.

Down 45.3 pounds… a few life lessons achieved… time to really get to the hard work. Thanks for being part of it with me. xx


She has always been the witchy woman, the moon child, the dark divine.

Her spirit deeper, stronger, more real than anything you would ever know.

Her light was supposed to fill your darkness. She was sent for you and you alone.

But you would never open the curtains but so far to allow her to shine for you.

She didn’t talk to many people, although people wanted to talk to her.

She never let them in. Pleasant hellos. Quick proper smiles.

She let you in and there was nothing proper about that.

Her body and soul bent, worshipping you at the altar of your boots.

When you were absent, her mind became her temple for her continuous monastic meditations on you.

You’ll never understand what you have tamed.

She stripped bare for you: clothes, fear, control.

All the armor is back on now. The magic. The shield and cloak.

The resting bitch face is in full effect.

She let you in and there was nothing she could do after that.

Recipe of the Month – Vegan Keto Tortillas




We recently tried this one out in our Keto Journey Facebook Group and it was a really big hit. I love Mexican, I love bread, I love food, and I hate cooking complicated things (anything really) so this was a definite winner for me!!

These tortillas take about 15 mins to make and consist of only 3 ingredients:

1) ½ cup tapioca flour

2) ½ cup chickpea/garbanzo flour

3) 1 cup canned coconut milk

Making the Batter

1) Whisk together the dry ingredients in a medium sized mixing bowl.

2) Stir in coconut milk with dry ingredients until thoroughly combined. Batter should be thick but not too thick that it can’t be poured onto the skillet pan.

Making the Tortillas

3) Pour roughly a quarter of a cup onto a nonstick or greased pan in a circle. Using the back of a spoon, spread the circle out until you have about 5-6 inch diameter circles. NOTE: if you are doing this like a bread or a fritter as mentioned later, then don’t spread out the circles at all for desired thickness). The thickness should be that of a crepe.

4) Cook the batter until bubbles start to pop up. Roughly 1-2 minutes. Flip with a thin spatula and cook for another minute or two on the other side.

5) Transfer to a plate to allow to cool. Repeat for the remainder of the tortillas.

Ideas and Feedback

So this is SUPER easy. Like seriously. The hardest thing was finding the flour which I couldn’t even find in the super hippie crunchy health food store, but Amazon Prime for the win on this one!

I made these thick and thin just to get some ideas for myself on how this easy of a batter could be used for other things because with me being allergic to everything in the world, I wanted to see how versatile this could be. So, if you make them thicker, they are totally deliciously sweet fritters. I added some almond butter on one of the thicker ones and it was a sweet little vegan treat. Also, if you wanted to make them more savory, you could add some herbs and salt to counter balance the sweetness of the coconut and serve the thicker ones like a savory naan bread side for other dishes.

I didn’t eat all of them, obviously, as it makes quite a few so I saved the others in a ziplock bag for another couple meals and warmed them up for a few seconds in the microwave to make them soft again and they worked out just fine.

Hope you try these yourself and be sure to hop over to our FB Group HERE where we are always sharing recipes and support and love!!!

The Weight Loss Saga: Gym Class, Little Boys, and Real Beauty


My struggle with myself has been a long standing war. I think it is pretty safe to say that 98% of that battle has stemmed from my relationship with my body. Everything from being the “fat girl” to developing early to being told that sexuality was dirty and secretive. My connection to myself has struggled as a result of my hatred of my own flesh (and the amount of it). Most of my memories of elementary school are connected to not being able to get up “the rope” in gym class or being called “Fatty” under their breath by the boys in class as I walked up to the front.

Years later, I still could never get up that damn rope, I would kill to have the body that they called fat, and I still hold a grudge when these same boys have tried to add me on Facebook over the years. (Really, y’all…come on). The thing is, these comments and feelings have a direct correlation to the rest of our lives. I feel like what I see when I look at myself is not actually what others see. All I see is that fat little scared girl. I know that I am not fat… I have fat. I also have fingernails, but am not a fingernail. I’ve come to terms with my beauty being from within and that’s a pretty fucking cool way to be beautiful in a world of fake boobs and faker attitudes. And it is THAT beauty that I see in the mirror now… I am beautiful in a way that defies convention and I’m never looking back but I do want to be a healthier version of myself. I have spent so many years being strong and looking soft and it has made me powerful and a bit rage-ish. Now, I am focusing on looking strong and being soft. I don’t wanna focus in whether or not my calves will fit in boots this fall or what my shoulders will look like in a dress.

29790812_10208541335450490_1838378233797833221_nI’ve done every diet in the book and have been able to drop over 60 pounds multiple
times in my life. I should be able to write a book on weight loss, but what I have learned is that it is a lifestyle to keep it off and everyone’s body chemistry is a little different as to what will help them lose, gain, or maintain as they see fit.

There ya go. Book written. Best seller. Millions of lives changed.

For me, every time I have been able to quickly, safely cut weight and keep it off for any period of time it has been a result of a low carb lifestyle. I have realized that my mouth likes profiteroles and a glass of Riesling but my ass does not. When I was tasked with dropping 60 pounds in 3 months to join the military (there’s a long story there, but no, I am super civilian) Atkins, Two-A-Day PT sessions, and practically starving myself was a great way (sarcasm) to accomplish that at 20. But in my mid 30’s now with 3 businesses, 2 dogs, an 11 year old boychild, and a busted metabolism from decades of yo yo dieting, losing weight especially when I don’t have all day to train in the gym like I once did seems nearly impossible. For me, this is where Cyclical Keto eating (maintaining ‘cheat carb’ days to keep my body on its toes) and supplementing with external ketones has been crucial. I needed to drop weight, gain energy, and get back on track before I could even step back in the gym.

IMG_0249To date, I have lost 43.9 pounds in under 3 months. I am far from done, but I have started easing into workouts again with a couple of Zumba classes under my belt and start weight training again tomorrow at 11 am with a trainer to get me started again. Although I do not let the size of my body define the size of my life anymore, I still want to feel lighter and more alive in it.

Life is a story meant to be edited, I’m working on the whole masterpiece that is me…for me.

True Devotion & the Scent of Caramel Coffee


Have a glass of wine with me and I shall tell you of a love that was not meant to be…

Actually, scratch that. That just sounds poetic and tragic and with any true love, that’s what it is. But this, this is more a study of TRUE devotion than of anything else.

We all strive to be ‘devoted.’ Do the right things, be a good person, talk the talk, and mostly walk the walk, right? If we stay on the right path and keep focused on where or to whom we have pledged out devotion, then that’s being ‘devoted.’

If that is true, then devotion sounds a lot like integrity… except its more than that. Integrity is doing the right thing when no one else sees. But devotion… is doing the right thing, unwaveringly, regardless of who is looking, FOR that which you have made a vow, spoken or unspoken to… even when its hard as fuck.

So, I tell you all of that to be able to explain all of this.

The same day that I launched this blog, birthed my creative offspring, I had to delete the line “devoted girlfriend” from the bio. I guess its true what they say about doors opening and chapters ending and all that “everything has a beginning and an end” talk. Spoiler alert: if you’re expecting this to be a sordid tale of he did this and he did that, it won’t be. But I am going to speak some real shit here… cause that’s kinda what I do and all.

I love that man. With a passionate fervor that was probably never healthy. From the moment I first saw a photo of him (yes, we met online), I was struck. That kinda moment where you stop breathing and the words “oh shit” fall audibly out of your mouth and you just know that you’re in trouble. Deep, deep trouble.

We talked all day every day, up late nights until nearly 3 AM, talking about everything and nothing. Sharing photos of our lives, our dogs, stories of our past, our hopes for a future together. When we finally met a few weeks later, I was hooked. The energy, and the chemistry, the sex… EVERYTHING was all that I had ever wanted but never knew I needed or thought I deserved. He was/is/will be the most gorgeous being I have ever laid my eyes on.

Even more than that, we saw so many things on the same level and the things that he knew about that I hadn’t experienced in life yet, were all the things that I wanted for us. I was moldable clay in his hands and had never been happier. We saw everything eye to eye… except for when we didn’t. It seemed that everything lined up perfectly and I will always know him as the other half of my soul. But the most frustrating thing about it all is that for all the ways that we were matched, there were a few things that we couldn’t get past…on both sides – I am no saint, mind you, I am a very jealous creature, and this mouth can be wicked when its hurting.

We spent the weekend together and I knew that we would find a way… or die trying. I have never wanted anything more in my life. I would have crawled on my hands and knees to him (he lives in the next state over, mind you) until they bled to be near him. I spent my days in meditation on thoughts of love, counting the minutes until my next work break so I could talk to him again. I poured every ounce of myself into him and would have practically killed to be the air he breathed. I remember sitting on my bedroom floor sobbing my eyes out when the caramel coffee scent of his vape was no longer present in my teddy bear from that weekend. (Yes, I sleep with a stuffed animal. Judge me if you must). Still, the scent of caramel coffee gets to me.

He loved me. Loves me. I don’t know where things are now. But he loved me, this I know. But there was something tragic and painful that we couldn’t bridge. I tried all that I could do to communicate with him about certain things but I could never help him to see me for who I was and how much I love him (Again, neither of us are saints… I take my blame too). But as for me, personally, I began to feel the heavy spiral. We were literally at an impasse and we began to hurt each other… to the point, I believe, of non repair. When I found myself in a constant daze of empty numbness, I knew that as much as I wanted, cried, prayed for, would give for, bleed for, plead for, scream for, and even fight for… that it was hurting us more than bringing joy.

I was devoted to him with every fiber of my being. But this isn’t the devotion that has been on my mind these past few days. I mean, of course it HAS and it always will be. During our short time together, I learned soooooo much about myself and true love and sexuality and intimacy… just everything.

Never settle in anything in life. Always live in truth, no matter what. Love at 900 mph with your hair on fire. Sexuality is NOT wrong or ‘dirty.’ Intimacy is a good thing and being vulnerable is ok. Take no small steps with the one who you love. Hold NOTHING back.

There’s so much more, but I’m pretty sure WordPress has a storage space limit.

The devotion that I’ve grabbed hands with and began to walk with… is the devotion to myself… someone I’ve never had enough esteem for or love for to put first in ANYTHING. To my mental wellbeing, my daily existence, my connection with the world and to myself. This went against everything I’ve felt, I’ve wanted… after all, how could a girl like me even get a man like him in the first place, right? But… when I met him, he transformed me. A switch turned on inside of me that made me more powerful, more passionate, more beautifully radiant, more everything than I ever have been before. More of my true self. He inspired me to be more and to never doubt what I felt. I made a vow to him to never lie or hide anything or take small steps. But, the woman that he was molding me to be listened to every word… every lesson… understood that the rope was connected at both ends. I made an unspoken vow of devotion to be the woman in my head and my heart that he saw me to be and to take care of her as I would him. So, when we began to become toxic for each other, no matter how painful, it had to stop.

True devotion and living in truth… is being in the arms of everything that you’ve EVER fucking wanted, looking into the beautiful eyes of your dreams, and taking the steps to save yourself… to save you both.

I dedicate all that I write to him and all that he turned on within me. Thank you for inspiring me to be the little girl and the woman you saw through your eyes. I am eternally grateful, my Soul

If I Squeak


If I fight with you, it means I love you. Because if I am fighting with you, then I am fighting for you… and I hate to fight at all.

If I scream at you, it means I feel. Because I rarely feel anything at all. But I feel you and so you hear me scream.

What I want to be screaming is from the rooftops… that I truly, deeply love you. But, with my bare feet pressed firmly on the ground, I raise my head and open my mouth- and I squeak.

I want to be loud and strong, but the primal, guttural cries of my painful longing suffocate me and take my voice… and you hear me squeak.

If I squeak, it means I love you because I am trying to scream and trying to fight.

And I hate to fight at all.