Scared Shhtless

What I wore to work yesterday: Skirt: Lotus (15% online with checkout code: MODA), Shirt: Old Navy, Shoes: Guess, Watch: Michael Kors, Necklace: CeleneStones (15% off when you mention this blog and EM Krista for your own custom bracelet, earrings or necklace- celenestones@gmail.com)

You know that old saying "Be careful what you wish for."?

Yeah. About that... 

If you have been reading this blog for any length of time you probably know (and are sick of hearing me talk about) how I have spent the last year working on creating my best self.

Although I have not been 100% on point all of the time...  I mean... I have taken a bottle of canned whipped cream right into my open mouth whilst standing in front of the (non-judgemental glow of the light from my open) refrigerator more times than I can count and enjoyed one too many glasses of wine one (or 10) too many times... but, I have been conscious and deliberate about doing things that scare the shit out of me and working on making myself proud over the last year.

I have written out goals, made plans to achieve them and executed. I have tried, learned and taught new things.... Pilates, PiYo, and becoming a certified Health Coach. I  have stopped buying quite so much meaningless shit, paid down some debts and developed a deeper faith and trust in God.

My goal throughout this journey has been to:
  •  become physically, mentally, and emotionally healthier
  •  be happier with how I look and feel
  •  become a kinder, more supportive, enthusiastic, positive person
  •  ditch ALL extremes... extreme self-loathing, extreme fear of judgement, extreme diets and/or  binging, and the tendency to compare myself to some unreal/unattainable standard of beauty
  •  to learn how to take care of my body with food and exercise
  •  to balance self-discipline with grace and realism

And then, once I had a handle on all of those things...

  • help other people reach their goals and become the best versions of themselves

Those have been the goals all along.

So why... now that these things are happening... am I absolutely terrified?

I got a message from a friend I went to high school with (who is now a trainer/nutritionist/chef in another state). She asked me if I would be interested in doing some blogging for a fitness and nutrition website. She said she thought that what I have to say might resonate with people. The current contributors (two VERY fit individuals who have made careers out of fitness and nutrition) are inspiring and extremely knowledgeable, but they are SO physically fit that your average person may not always be able to relate to them. When you see people who own studios, are personal trainers, have a half dozen certifications, and are paid to work out all day, or are a paid to be a fitness model... you may write them off as not being able to understand the struggle of the average person who is along way from having a handle on food addictions, or who wouldn't know where to start if dropped off at a gym.

After an amazing two-plus hour conversation I said... "Most definitely!"  I'd love to partner with you and contribute to this website.  She asked for a bio, a few blog posts, and some photographs to post on the site.

I was extremely excited.


I went to the website and actually saw the pictures of the other contributors!!!!!

Holy Hell.

This man and woman are insane. I'm talking 6-pack abs, chiseled muscles, and not an inch of fat to be pinched. The only way either of them would have a belly roll is if someone placed an actual pastry on their abdomens. A roll sitting on a "belly". That is it.

Instantaneously all of my excitement turned to terror. No friggin WAY you are putting my pictures next to their professional fitness photographs. Sweet LAWD. No one would take me seriously as a fitness and nutrition contributor. Who the hell would read what I had to say??????? The fear had set in and it was major. I could  hear it now...

She's fat.
She's not even in that good of shape.
She doesn't have a Masters degree in Nutrition.
Why would I want to take advice from her?"

Thank gosh I had to leave the house to get to my Pure Barre class or I may have written my old friend an email backing out of the whole thing.

While I was in Pure Barre and later that night teaching PiYo I was surrounded by mirrors. Mirrors that forced me to look at my meaty thighs, the rolls I have when I'm bent over in a forward fold, or the back fat creeping out of my new (super tight) sports bra. I looked at all of it. For 2+ hours. At the end of the night I laughed and told a girlfriend and student of mine not to be surprised if all of our workouts are extra hard over the next few weeks while I prepare to have some pictures taken for this website. I briefly mentioned that the people I would be contributing with are physical specimens. She scoffed at my remarks and rolled her eyes. Then I looked around that room full of women I have grown to love and thought of the ladies I just left in my barre class and I realized that I am in really good company.

Most of us are not fitness models. Most of us are just trying to feel better, be healthy, live a good, long life and be the best version of ourselves. And... the more pictures of average, healthy body types there are out there in the world (or on the worldwide web) the less we will feel like we all have to look "perfect" to look good.

So, I figured that it is time to "walk the talk".

I can't just talk about how proud I am of turning my life around and then be ashamed of what my "transformation" looks like. I can't extend grace to other people and talk about realistic expectations to my health coaching clients and then turn around and condemn myself for not looking like a fitness model. I may not ever feel "ready" so I guess now is as good a time as any.

It's been 48 hours since the phone call, almost 24 hours since I freaked-the-F-out, and I'm happy/terrified to report that the photo shoot is scheduled, the bio is in the works, and the blog posts are-a-coming.... 

Even if the thought of all of that does make me kind of want to vomit in my mouth. Like that slow burn of a burp that turns to puke. You know the one... 

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