A Memory

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Tonight I remembered a dream of mine. Tonight memories flooded my heart.

My first job was a retail job. All my friends were pretty jealous. I made good money. Received a great discount. Had great hours. I got to put together great displays for the holidays, or set sales… It was awesome. I had found my calling.

That job started the long list of other retail jobs that I pursued. I went to school for fashion merchandising. I wanted to live in New York and create displays for major retail stores. I wanted to work, write, travel and dream big.

Then there was this boy.

This boy, may he rest in peace, stomped on my dream. Okay okay- he is not dead but he broke my heart after I had chased his dream. After I had listened to his “my life goal of fashion was stupid” comments….I gave up and followed his dream. So when he broke my heart I decided he was dead to me.

So I once again got back in retail and realized I loved when the stores closed for the evening, we would take our shoes off, crank up the radio and re-set the store. Sometimes it was just cleaning it and resizing the racks. Sometimes it was total resets for the holidays or a new store opening. I loved these times.

I loved the all nighters. Since I am an insomniac- all nighters work well for me. I loved folding and refolding. I enjoyed putting together the window displays. I enjoyed the time in the store when it was still and quiet from the hustle of the shoppers. It was probably the only time during that season of my life I wasn’t on something or drunk. Something about doing sets or new layouts made my heart so happy. I didn’t need to find a boy, take a drink, or party the night away because something else was so much more desiring…. Work.

So tonight after a crappy day. After everyone left, I didn’t want to go home and so I did what my heart did all those years ago. I planned a new grid for after the holidays. I put shirts in size order. I took out the old clip board and folded shirts. I figured out what more this holiday grid needed!

Completely alone.

With the music turned up high.

Kicked my shoes off.

Sang a little too loud.

A memory that was worth revisiting and thinking maybe it is never too late to chase this dream.

One Pound At A Time

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This is me.

This is not a before picture.

This would have meant I was bold and brave.

This is me.

This after a month of working out….hard.

This is after skipping sweets. Bread. Dairy.

This is still not good enough.

See I live in the DFW area and I know I am not suppose to compare myself to others. But it is so freaking hard.

The women out here always look perfect. They don’t leave their home unless makeup and hair are perfect. They are always dressed like they just might meet the president. Or even if they “just threw something on” they look like they just stepped out of a JCrew magazine.

(sigh) Not me.

My hair is frizzy. Not straight. Not curly. Just there. Pony tails and I are best friends. Makeup….well I try but I would rather go with out. I love T-shirts, jeans, work out clothes and well flip flops. These women around here even when they wear casual (like gym clothes) they are still put together with hair done and makeup.

So most days I feel like I am in high school again. Comparing my boobs to their boobs. FYI I have none. That was the 1st thing to go when I decide to lose weight. So now I once again revisit the boob job question in my head.

I compare my weight to their weight. I see their thigh gap and wonder do they sacrifice to get that or are they naturally skinny? Either way I conclude with lucky.

I compare my clothes to their clothes. I love fashion but not one to spend a lot on super trendy. I will spend money on a good pair of jeans or sweat pants, though.

Everyday I step into a target I wish I could blast the lady in front of me or behind me with a “lady you just went grocery shopping! Leave the pearls at home.” But then I look around and realize I am the only one that seemed to miss the “dress up at Target day” memo.

(Sigh) I have to remind myself…This is me.

Every pound. Every scar. The lack of boobs. Every stretch mark. Every vein. Every single thing on my body is me. Even the clothes I wear. I could change my wardrobe. I can change my weight. I could get boobs, but deep down I have to love myself. I have to not compare my body or life to anyone.

I have to accept myself so I free myself from others accepting me. I have to not care if I love a good pair of yoga pants OVER the latest Free People dress. (BY THE WAY I DO LOVE THEM.)

I have to realize God made me.

He made me.

I am not air brushed. I don’t have fake nails. A fake tan. Or fake boobs (yet). I may not look like anyone else because this is me.

So today I go to the gym for me. I will swim not for a thigh gap but to take my pain and stress out on the water. I won’t see another woman and compare. I will not compare myself. I am not losing weight to compare to anyone, I am doing it for me. I will wear makeup or not wear makeup not to compare but I will wear it or not wear it for me. I will wear what I want to wear and not compare….all for me.

One pound at a time I will love myself and accept myself. One pound at a time I will learn that I am beautiful and don’t have to compare.

❤️
KGB