The Year of 'Me'

Written: October 8th, 2015.

The title of this post probably makes you scratch your head and think, "wow, what about her children?" Trust me, they have not been forgotten. They are my whole world, learning and growing each day, right before my eyes. But this post is more than just that.

The Year of Me is well, about me. It all started in January, like most years do. It was when the scales had not budged more than 10 pounds from when I had had our third child, Leila, 9 months prior. I decided that I was done feeling frumpy, unattractive to my husband and feeling like I wasn't even in my own skin anymore.

I stripped down to spandex shorts and a camisole, because I didn't even own a sports bra at the time. I had been living in nursing bras for most of the last 4 years. I stood in front of my full length mirror and I took the dreaded "before" picture. I was 137 pounds.

That day I perused through YouTube videos in search of an exercise routine that I could do at home, with three children at my feet, that would take minimal time and no extra equipment.

In my mind I wanted to lose a realistic amount. We had a vacation to Aruba coming up in 3 months and I wanted to feel comfortable in a bikini. Well, as comfortable as you can after three kids. I decided my first goal would be 10 pounds.

So I worked really hard on myself for the first time in years. Of course I always took care of myself when I was pregnant and nursing but this was the first time in a really long time that I had even attempted exercise. It was hard. It was trying. I remember calling my dad so frustrated because I was doing all the right things but yet the scales weren't moving. At least not at the rate I was hoping for.

At one month I took a progress picture. I was disappointed. I was unsatisfied with my results. My husband could tell my body was changing, he complimented me and said I looked great. But it just wasn't enough.

For the next 3 months I cleaned up our diet at home, including more fruits and veggies in our meals. Less pasta, bread, fried foods, fast food, beer, etc. I exercised, I practiced portion control and some how, some way, I kept my motivation.

To make a long story short, here I am 9 months later, 33 pounds lighter and quite arguably the healthiest I've ever been in my entire life. Sure, stretch marks don't go away, my skin will never be the same after carrying three kids and I'm pretty sure I lost every ounce of boob I ever had, but I feel better about myself than I have in a long time.

Weight loss doesn't define me, though. This year has been so much more than that.

Around February Danny and I hit a sort of bump in the road. A disagreement of sorts. Without going into personal details, I can say that we reached a point where we needed to ensure we had an open line of communication. That we trusted each other. And that we could be completely honest with each other. So we set out as a team and we were determined to become closer as a couple, as best friends, as the mother and father of our children and as husband and wife. We had rough days. We had better days. We had days that I'm not sure how we didn't throw in the towel.

They say you have seasons in life. This was a season that even with heartache and tears, I am glad we went through it, together. I learned a lot about myself. Which leads me to my next topic.

I've always had pretty low self esteem. I need constant reassurance. I have always been shy and doubt myself. I am sometimes afraid to have a voice for fear of confrontation. But in that dark season, I had someone on my side. The one who vowed to be with me in good times and in bad. My husband set out to give me confidence. To make me feel valued. To help me see and accept myself just as I am.

While it has not been an easy task, I've grown in more ways than I ever could have imagined.