Giveaway for Hope UPDATE: WINNER ANNOUNCED!

     Recently I opened up about my struggles with PCOS and infertility (click here to read the post). Neither of these topics is easy to talk about as it can feel like rubbing salt on a wound. However, since allowing myself to be vulnerable and honest I have had readers reach out to me to say thank you; Thank you for being a real woman behind this blog; Thank you for not sugar coating or pretending that my journey to find my healthy has been a walk in the park. When I opened up about my infertility, due to PCOS, I had a reader reach out to me and offer me a gift to help heal an aching heart.

     Crystal told me about her Esty shop, Fertility Gems (click here). She creates beautiful pieces specifically for women struggling with fertility and/or PCOS. She also sent me bracelet for PCOS. It represents holding onto hope - hope that there is always a way and to never give up. Her genuine thoughtfulness and compassion touched my heart. I share my stories to help other women know that they are not alone and Crystal reached out to say thank you.

   When my bracelet arrived it was lovingly packaged. 

This package was more than just the delivery of jewelry. It was the delivery of a hug from one woman to another. Crystal extends her love and compassion to women through her hand crafted jewelry and her work is beautiful.

     Although I have made peace with not having children, I still struggle with the symptoms of PCOS on a daily basis. PCOS is the reason I think about the food I eat, the importance of exercise, and the loving care I need to give my body and soul.  This beautiful bracelet is my reminder that I am not defined by PCOS. I have the power to allow it to make me or break me and I have learned over the years that I do not break easily.

     As women we do not break easily. We suffer in silence and go forward in our lives doing the best we can with smiles on our faces. Crystal and I would like to offer a token of hope to someone who needs to be reminded that PCOS and/or infertility does not define her self-worth. We have elected to give a beautiful hand crafted bracelet away! This giveaway comes from our hearts. It is                                                                                                     our way of extending the hug of support through                                                                                                       the mail.

The giveaway rules are simple:

1. Please Like both New Figure Forward (click here) AND Fertile Gems (click here) Facebook pages.

2. Like this post on New Figure Forward's Facebook page.
3.Please leave a comment under the posting of this blog on Facebook about what you love about yourself.

4. Tag a friend or family member that could use a hug through the mail and both you and your friend receive bonus entries.

That's all. Easy.

The contest will run for one week. The winner will be announced on Thursday, November 6th.

     Our goal is to help remind a deserving woman of the power of hope and never giving up. We cannot help everyone everywhere; however we can help someone somewhere. As one we are strong, as many we are unbreakable!

UPDATE: WINNER ANNOUNCED!
Thank you to all that entered. I was beyond moved by the stories that where shared with me. I wish I could make everyone a winner, but alas I cannot. HOWEVER, I CAN offer my readers a special discount if you would like to purchase this or other pieces of Crystal's work. Click here to be sent to the Esty store. At check out enter code: NFF5OFF and receive $5 off your purchase. 

Congratulations Krystal Earl McDonald!! You are the winner. Please private message me with your mailing information within 24 hours. 

A Year of Honest Blogging

Today, July 10th, marks the one year anniversary of New Figure Forward. 

     A year ago I was toying with an idea to share my story to help fill a void I felt was lacking in the weight loss world.  I had only seen the 'after ' pictures; I had never heard an 'after 'story. I thought perfection would be found in a pant size. Imagine my surprise when I felt confused and lost with my new figure.  My entire body changed. My face changed. The way the world looked at me changed.  The way I felt on the inside and the way I looked on the outside did not match. When you have only known yourself one way, it is terrifying to suddenly see yourself as a stranger.  This made for a frustrating couple of 'after' years.

     I missed my bigger body on occasion. I did not like being a size 28, but I knew how to be a size 28.  Even though I wanted to lose weight, I had still accepted my role in life to be the wall flowered fat girl. I knew how to be her. I knew how people would react to her. I was her my entire life.  Now, a size 12, I had to learn the new me and the world that came along with my new figure.

     Six years after my 125 pound weight loss I have a voice. I have confidence.  I know who I am in my new figure. I found myself.  I have had people tell me the transformation they have witnessed in me is amazing.  Those that know me best have watched me go from a shoulders hunched unhealthy girl to a proud woman with her head held high.  The confidence did not hit me when I put on my dream pant size; it happened years later.

     This blog started out as a way to show the other side to weight loss. The 'after' to the 'happily ever'.  The mental healing process, the self acceptance, and the willingness to relearn myself.  These were not topics I had heard anyone else talk about. No one complains about life after weight loss! Life after weight loss is perfect and everything just falls into place. Lies. All lies! I knew I was not the only person struggling in their 'ever after'.


     I was right. I was not the only person struggling.  Through my blog, I realized the struggle to love ourselves is not reserved for specific weights or sizes. Women, some with figures I used to long for, all struggle with this need to achieve perfection so that they can love themselves.  Self-love is not the prize at the end of the journey. Self-love can be had right now. Self-love will blossom when given the green light.
   

     Moving into my second year as a blogger, I am not the same woman that started writing a year ago. This journey has been immensely healing and liberating. New Figure Forward paved my purpose to inspire others to love themselves. I will continue to advocate for less Photoshop, a variety of shapes and sizes represented in media and advertising, and the belief that our bodies are perfect - stretch marks and all! This next year will be a big one for New Figure Forward. I may have a few surprises up my sleeve. 

     My words mean nothing without someone to read them. I thank all of my friends, those I know personally and those I have met online, and my family. Without the encouragement and support this project would not have gone far. Every email I receive, every like on a post, every comment made helps me to continue pushing forward and fight for change.  Thank you to my readers! This day would not have happened without you! 

(An extra special shout out to my husband. To a man who has encouraged me grow into my own. A man who has pushed me to be my best. A man who has never seen anything but a beautiful woman in front of him.  He edited every blog, took pictures, and inspired ideas.  Thank you husband for everything you have done for me, my self esteem, and my view on the world! I love you more than words can express!) 

Kicked the Scale to the Curb!

I was reminded today of the resolution I made for 2014.  I resolved to no longer weigh myself. I was addicted to the number on the scale and I wanted to be free. To read the post "Addicted to the Number" click here.  I struggled at first. I weighed myself on December 31st and then not again until January 4th. I thought that was good, so I went a few more days. Then on Monday, January 6th I was back to weighing myself everyday and writing it down. I told myself I would stop after I got my holiday weight off. I could stop when I wanted (additive behavior warning!)

The last weight written in my calendar is on February 7th, the last day I weighed myself.  It has been over 2 months without stepping on the scale. I hide the scale. I hide it so well that I'm not sure where I put it.  The first month it felt like a 'how long can I stay away' challenge. Every day that I didn't crack was one more day I was strong.  After a few weeks, the challenge aspect of it wore off and I stayed off the scale because I believe I no longer need to know how much I weigh. I believe that weight is just a number and does not reflect how healthy I have become overall. 

For those that are on a healthy body journey and are losing weight, I understand the need to stand on the scale. In Weight Watchers, my weekly weigh-ins are what motivated me. Six years after losing my weight I still lived in fear of gaining it all back. I refused to go back, and the ideas of getting out of control on the scale made me obsess about the number on it.  I haven't seen 200 pounds on the scale in 6 years, let alone 300.  At what point was I going to accept the person I had become? When was I going to give myself credit for conquering my weight struggle? 

In Zumba, a friend commented on how good I look and asked if I had lost weight.  I said thank you and I may have lost weight, I don't know. I don't stand on the scale any more.  Two things happened in that moment: 1) I realized I have accomplished my New Year’s resolution and 2) my friend looked at me like I was nuts. "You don't stand on the scale?! Why not?!" I did not have much time to explain before class fired up, so I simply said, "I am not defined by a number and the scale doesn't weigh awesomeness."  I meant what I said. I almost got choked up when it sunk in what I had said, it rolled of my tongue naturally. I, from the bottom of my heart, believe I am worth more than a number!

There came a point in my life where I wanted to be set free from the entire hateful inner monologue I have been plagued with since third grade.  I trust myself to maintain a healthy lifestyle, both physically and mentally. I trust myself and the changes I have made are not a phase, the changes have become my second nature.  I no longer need the scale to tell me what my worth will be for the day.  I no longer eat with fear of how it will reflect on the scale in the morning.  I eat and exercise for me, for my body, and for my health. Not for some plastic box, not for a number, and not for size.  I am free from the addiction to the number and it is liberating! 

There's 2 Sides to Every Story. This is My Second Side.

I have only told one side to my weight/health story. I did not think I would need to share the other half. The other half that is embarrassing, extremely personal, and not what I want to be known for. I have reached a crossroad within my blog and realize that it is time to share the whole truth. As always, I am open, honest, and tend to over share.  

Ok, so here it goes....

I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome or PCOS, as it is more commonly known.  PCOS affects many aspects of a woman's body including but not limited to; facial hair, infrequent periods, weight gain, loss of hair, depression, anxiety, and infertility. I have it all. There is my truth. The other half of my story. Behind closed doors my body and I did not get along and it has been that way since 6th grade when the first sign of a mustache appeared.  

When I was first told that I had PCOS it meant nothing. It was just letters that were supposed to explain why I was the fat girl with a mustache and rarely had a period.  The hair loss, ridiculous sugar cravings (huge contributor to weight gain), infertility, depression, anxiety, and risk of diabetes, heart disease, and endometrial cancer where never explained to me by a doctor. I was handed birth control and out the door I went. I lived with my PCOS for years, not paying attention to it. I stopped taking birth control over time because I did not see the point. 

I learned how to get rid of the facial hair in high school. I have had my routine for almost 15 years now, it is my normal. Not having periods became my normal, and I actually thought I was lucky. Binge eating sugary high carb foods was normal for me. It was nothing for me to pack away an entire box of anything when no one was looking. PCOS is not what made me 300 pounds, though it contributed. PCOS is not why I lost 125 pounds, though it was a small concern at the time. I lost my weight because I was tired of not being comfortable in my skin. I wanted to stop the war with my body. I learned what I needed to do to get the weight off and keep it off.  I feel I have been lucky in that and when I have binged I have always managed to catch myself and get back on track before the buttons on my pants popped off. 

Engagement photo. The only picture found where my ponytail can be seen. 

It was not until I was 28 that the reality of what I have started to sink in. I had lost so much of my hair that I could not lie to myself anymore. The pathetic ponytail I clung to was driving me into depression. I remember the tear filled conversation I had with my stylist about needing to do something so that I can stop obsessing about my hair. So, with a few months to my wedding, my hair that was past my shoulders was chopped into my signature pixie cut.  At first I struggled with the harsh reality that I will never have thick flowing hair down my back. Long hair is feminine, it is what makes a woman who she is, or so I thought.   

Cut it all off to spare myself anymore heart ache. 

The worst part about cutting my hair so dramatically was the constant comments asking why I cut it and why did I not wait until after my wedding. I was honest every time explaining that I was losing my hair and that I didn't want to look at my wedding pictures and see something I will no longer have; long hair.  My answer caught people off guard and caused people to stop asking me why I was losing my hair, they just shut up. 

I am a few years into knowing that PCOS is the cause for so much of the struggles I have with my body. I thought I just had to live with the symptoms. This is who I am and how my body is going to be.  I was not given adequate information by doctors, just birth control pills and a sympathetic head tilt.  I thought I would always be a sugar addict, binge eating on cake until I was sick and always struggling with my weight.  Turns out I was wrong! I do not have to surrender to the effects of PCOS.  I have recently been educating myself about PCOS and have taken charge of my body. 

The websites and books have given me a wealth of information about how to take care of my body and have helped me to balance hormones, depression, and anxiety.  Over the past few weeks I have begun a private healing journey with my body and mind.  I have made changes in my diet, focusing on whole organic foods and little to no sugar. I have stopped eating desserts and refined carbohydrates.  I no longer eat potatoes. I have said goodbye to coffee (and finally the caffeine headaches)  and switched to green tea.  I do all this to help balance my body, help slow down the hair loss, and to feel the best I can feel. 

A few of my dietary changes have made their way on to my Facebook page and I realized that without explanation these posts look like a "diet" food post.  This is why I am talking about my PCOS and will be explaining my food choices openly from now on.  I have changed my diet to nurture my body and care for it. I am no longer at war with my body. I am listening to what my body needs in order to be its best.  It has taken many years to get to the point of appreciating my body and loving myself. 

There is no miracle cure. This is not a fix it band aid. This is my new life style. It began as a struggle, especially with the sugar cravings (I will write about the sugar withdraws in another post), and now has started to balance out for me. I feel strong and healthy now, much more than I ever did before. I am moving forward with a new understanding about my body. I have made peace with things that are out of my control. Life is too short to spend it angry at what cannot be changed.  

I have had to learn to embrace my body and mind. I have to be kind to myself and nourish myself with healthy foods and soul fulfilling activities.  The openness that I have with my journey will continue with a new understanding that the picture was only half revealed and what I do for my body is not always about my waist line. I am not ashamed anymore. I know I am not the only woman who deals with PCOS. I will no longer treat myself like a broken woman. 

New Body. New Style...Eventually.

     As a fat kid in the 90's I didn't have many options in fashion and style.  I shopped at two stores; Lane Bryant and the XXL department of JcPenney. I didn't have the luxury to think about my personal style or what image I wanted to project - I just walked in and grabbed what I could tolerate and what would fit. When the time came for me to start caring about my style, my style had been already chosen for me - outdated grandma look. 

5th and 6th grade. Not my fondest years. 

     Thankfully as I got older the clothing options for the overweight expanded and I no longer had to sport flowers and cats. High school was a battle to dress myself.  I hated shopping with my friends because I couldn't fit into even the largest size in the store. Forever 21 and Charlotte Russe where not stretching over any part of me.  I learned to cry at home and show my big girl pride face in public.  I tried several different styles to disguise my lack of personal style. I tried goth but my mom just about killed me. Hippie worked. Long skirts and flip flops, easy enough. By the time I graduated high school I had no style as my style. I wore anything including a sparkly red cowboy hat with matching red fringe boots (thankfully there is no photographic evidence).  In college it evolved into a punk look, black hair and piercings. By the time I was 21 I didn't like my look. I didn't like standing out because I looked hard, angry, AND fat.

     I started over. Gone where the days of chains on my pants and a bolt in my tongue.  Now I had glamorized myself.  My hair got bigger and my make-up got thicker. Lane Bryant kept me fashionable AND in debt. The make-up girls at Macy's knew they could sell me just about anything because someday I was going to find the magic powder that, when applied to my face, would make my butt look smaller. 

     This is the "look" that evolved with me as my weight dropped down until I was no longer able to shop at Lane Bryant and Torrid. Now I could shop ANYWHERE!! This was a dream come true for me, the ability to walk into any store and know something is going to fit. About this time is also when I had my very own life crisis. I wanted to live the glory days I never had as the cute high school girl. I wanted the cute dresses, the adorable shirts, and graphic tee's that, as a fat girl, I couldn't wear.  At 27 I probably should have just let that dream go but I walked into Forever 21 and Charlotte Russe and I bought those cute (way too short for me) dresses, and those adorable (look like I'm in denial about my age) shirts, and I rocked the graphic tee (with a blazer, it really was cute). With my make-up caked on and the most uncomfortable shoes I could find, I was ready to make memories. 

     I dressed like I was 16 until I hit 30 and I suddenly felt out of place in my Buffy the Vampire Slayer t-shirt. Recapturing youth and too much makeup was not talked about in Weight Watchers meetings. I wasn't prepared to not know how to dress myself. I  looked to women in my life that inspired me and realized none of these ladies where shopping in the juniors department and it might be time to embrace the 30 year old woman I had become. I struggle to make fashion choices that compliment me, I fight my inner fat teenager who wants the short low cut dress. 

To help combat these choices I have a set of rules I follow when I'm shopping:    

           

                      

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      I'm learning to love my body and showcase it as it is.  I dress my best now because that super model body I keep waiting for isn't going to get here and in the meantime I need to rock what I have with style and class.  I may not have been able to be the teenager I wanted to be but I will be the woman I hoped I'd grow up to be. 

Photoshop Changed My Mind

     I don't want the flabby arms but I have them and I work hard to strengthen them. It's okay that I don't love my arms, their mine and I'm the one that has to live with them.  It's another emotion when someone points them out as a flaw, throws out insulting comments about how big they are, then Photoshops them to their standard of beauty.  I knew my arms were big but since when does that make them wrong? I was offended by someone thinking I wasn't beautiful the way I am.  I was offended that they thought they were doing me a favor. In that moment of mentally defending my arms, I discovered a seed of self love and pride.

     I stared at this photo of myself imagining those sticks were my arms. I couldn't make the image match. I come with big arms. They're big, not because they're fat, they're big because I USED to be 300 pounds! They are my badge of honor. This extra skin that waves along with me, I worked HARD for that.  I'm not a celebrity and I don't want to be treated like one, meaning, leave my "flaws" alone. This is not the cover of a magazine, these are personal photos that my family will hold onto and cherish for many years. I'm guessing someone might notice, out of all my pictures, this one I look different.  

     I don't wish to lie to myself. I do not want to look at photos that have altered my body. Blend out the zit, stain on my shirt, or even a wrinkle or two, but my body is what it is and it is beautiful.  My flab, rolls, stretch marks, and cellulite are mine. If I can learn to accept them so can the people around me.  I was so offended by the Photoshopping and someone thinking they were doing me a favor that I embraced my arms, mentally hugging them and telling them that it's ok, I see them as beautiful. 
   
     The Photoshopper who gave me those sticks taught me a valuable lesson. Without that image I may never had made peace with myself, with my "flaws". I do not see my arms as a flaw anymore. My body is not wrong; society is wrong for subjecting women to a beauty standard that isn't real. Celebrities and models are Photoshopped on everything. I could transform my body into the best it can be and it still would not be considered perfect. I need to see myself as perfect now because regardless of what I do to it, someone will find something wrong. 

    As for the photo that started it all, it lives under my bed (it's a large canvas photo). I can't look at it because it makes me sad. I hold on to it for several reasons - the most important being the lesson that came from it. This is the first summer I am not subjecting myself to cardigans in 100 and something degree heat to hide my arms. I show my arms with pride now, they have become my middle finger to unrealistic beauty standards. This is me, I am beautiful  and no one can make me ashamed of my body. 

Addicted to the Number

     Confession: I weigh myself every morning and have for over a year. I started after I went to my doctor seeking help when I started to put on weight, getting very close to a number I swore I would never see again. To monitor my figure, I checked in every morning, weighing myself and writing in my calendar.  That number had the power to make or break my day. It would dictate what I ate, what I wore, or even how much physical activity I would put in for the day.  

     Today I read The Militant Baker's blog post Smash the Scale Revolution. This post made me realize that I have an addiction to the number on the scale. My self-worth starts every morning in my bathroom.  It could be a good day or a bad day; it all depends on the number.  I have lived by the scale since I was 9 years old. I earned more love from family if that number was lower than before. If it went up I was put down and belittled. The lower the number the more love I could earn. This has been a lifetime battle for me. 

The following passage from the blog hit me like a punch to the gut;

"So who is Smash the Scale for?

For every girl bent over a toilet, worshiping at the altar of thin. For every teen who cries herself to sleep at night because she’s not good enough and doesn’t know why. For every child who didn't know they were fat until someone told them. For every woman who hopes that happiness is on the other side of that pill bottle. For every person who's stopped eating when they're still hungry. For every woman who hopes that happiness is on the other side of that pill bottle this time. Or maybe this time. For every woman that thinks she’ll be worthy of love if her thighs were smaller.  For every woman that holds back tears while she tries on jeans. For every child with a Weight Watchers chart on their bedroom door. For every man who's been told to put his shirt back on. For every teen who starves for a gap. For every skinny girl accused of anorexia and every fat girl that’s called lazy.

For every person who looks down at a number for so long that they forget to look up at the world.

For you.

Choose your weapon.
Smash the Scale.
And with it, all obligation, expectation and guilt."

     Look again at the line I have highlighted in red. That line hit home. The wheels in my heads started turning. I am addicted to the scale! Am I capable of not standing on the scale? It has thrown me a bit to realize just how much power that square box STILL has over me. I told myself I was doing it to stay in check and to help maintain my weight. That is only half true. My self-worth still comes from that damn number. If I weighed in less than the day before I knew I was going to have a good day because I was happy with the number. Why am I giving this number so much power? I have been looking down at a number on the scale since fourth grade. When I was losing weight family would constantly as what I weighed. That number became my definition. I am THAT number. I have to learn new places to find my self-worth! No more looking down!

     I admit to having a sense of panic over not standing on the scale every morning. Because of that panic I will be relocating my scale to the closet. I am going set myself free from the number. It will take some time to move past knowing how much I weigh. I stand for a positive body image and I need to heal this part of my own mind and heart. I am NOT the number on the scale. This addict is kicking the habit. I trust myself to care for my body like I always have without needing to know my weight. In 2014 I will not weigh myself every day. I promise this to myself. I am more than a number! Loving myself is not contingent on the number on a scale anymore!

Spread the Word Contest

Spread the Word Contest

     One of the tricks I learned to help maintain my weight loss was learning not to turn to food for comfort or to reward myself.  I chose pampering my body with lotions, soaps, and oils instead. I fell in love with The Body Shop years ago. I love not only the quality of their products but also the morals of the company. They do not test on animals, they trade fairly with other countries, they support self esteem, they care about protecting the planet, and they work to protect human rights.  Why am I telling you this? I am giving away Body Shop products!!

My Spread the Word Contest is back and this time I have pumped it up.  The contest will run for two weeks, until Christmas Eve.  On Christmas Day the winner will be announced! 

Want to treat your body to rich scents and luxurious products? 

Coconut Beautifying Oil, Vanilla Body Butter, Coconut Body Soap

All you have to do is a follow these steps: 

     1. Like this post on New Figure Forward's Facebook wall- This enters you into the contest. Without liking           this post your future likes will not count toward this contest. 
         (You may enter at anytime within the two week period.)

     2. Facebook posts dated December 12th through December 24 are eligible to earn you entries. 

                                             -Every 'like' earns 1 entry. A 'share' will earn 2 entries. A comment earns 3 entries.

                                             -The more likes and shares, the more entries you earn. 

That's it! Simple. The winner will be pulled at random, so get those entries in! 

Good luck to all that participate!! Your support of New Figure Forward keeps the message of empowerment and loving our bodies alive. 

Dare I Say I Have Fans?

Super Fun Night Fan

I was apprehensive about “Super Fun Night” with Rebel Wilson.  I am over plot lines that make the plus size character constantly make fun of themselves in order to distract attention from her size. The stereotype that fat equals funny is irritating. I procrastinated watching the show for fear of hating it. Rebel Wilson is adorable, sassy, intelligent, beautiful and I really did not want to see her play the fat fool.

I am caught up on the season thus far and even watch a few episodes twice. Rebel Wilson's character, Kimmy, is endearing and adorable. She's obviously smart, she's a lawyer (fact: Rebel WIlson has a law degree). Yet she is completely lost with herself, growing into womanhood.  I found that very relatable. We want to be comfortable in our skin and blend in with those around us. When we are still in the process of figuring out who we are we can look like asses along the journey.

     I love her girlfriends. They make me miss the bond I had with my close friends from high school.  My friends who would have stood in line with me to get Xena's autograph and remind me to not sport the awkward t-shirt to school. Kimmy's friends are loyal and accepting of each other and their quirks.  They help each other be the best versions of themselves they can be, often encouraging each other to break out from the fear and just do it. It is a nice break from the back stabbing woman characters I see so much of on TV.

     The more I watch the more I do not see the show as a way to poke fun at big girls. I see a woman coming into her own and discovering the woman she is becoming. She is growing out of “girldom” and into womanhood with a few bumps along the way. I think Rebel is a master at combining humor and honesty. Rebel created and writes the show.  She is aware of the fat jokes - she wrote them! I still struggle with humor as the main attribute to a plus size character but she is charming and it works.  The Kimmy character is not the way she is because she is fat; she is spunky, funny, and adorable because that the PERSONALITY she has been given. Fat does not make her funny. Her giggle, facial expressions, and nerdy ways make Kimmy the cute character she is. When I laugh at what she says or does I am not laughing because she is plus size, I'm laughing because the moment was funny. Put in a skinny woman and it still would have been funny.

   

 I have my fingers crossed that the show holds on and does not get canceled. It is refreshing to have women with different figures on a show. I welcome these girls into my living room every week. I am comfortable watching in my pj's, glasses, and with my green face mask. It has become my 30 minutes of pure girl time. I do not compare myself to these women and feel bad about myself. Instead, I laugh and remember the moment I did the same thing.  The show becomes about weight when all anyone can focus on is Rebel's weight. That is not a reflection of her, rather it is a reflection of society’s fear of a strong plus size woman who is not buying into the idea that beauty comes in one size propaganda.

Empowered Woman on a Mission. Join me.

    I am excited, shocked, and humbled by the amount of fans my Facebook page has received in the past few days. In light of my New Figure Forward project picking up speed I figured I should take some time to explain who I am, where New Figure Forward came from, and what my mission is as a blogger and as a woman.  

    My name is Alyson, I am 31 years old, and I live in Las Vegas, Nevada.  My passion for figure equality comes from my own life long struggles with weight. I do not remember a time when I was not the biggest kid in my class. I was always the tallest and then I became the roundest. I quickly developed a distain for my own reflection. Up until a year ago I have always hated my body and I punished it in many ways.

     In elementary school, I was bullied, teased, and beat up. Middle school was the same. I was fat and miserable. I did not feel pretty. I started diet pills in 7th grade. I started binging and purging in 8th grade. By high school I was abusing myself in the worst ways.  I wrote about my high school experience here; My diary. 

    After high school my weight went up and down, over and over. By the time I was 25 I was 300 pounds! I lived with it. I was fashionable. I had friends. I had a job I loved. I was making 300 pounds work for me, until a moment in my bathroom changed my life forever. 

       **WARNING** I'm about to get seriously honest.  

     Everything changed for me the day I could not reach around myself. I sat on the toilet unable to reach around. I did what I had to do and then burst into tears. I actually cried myself to sleep on the bathroom floor that night.  I had lost the empowered female I had told myself I was. I was strong enough to be big. I was strong enough to not let the stares, comments, and almost needing to purchase an extra airplane seat make me feel bad about myself. I put on my happy face everyday. Deep down I knew I was lying to myself. I was not happy. I was miserable. I realized I was depressed and stuck - but then I had the realization that I didn't have to settle for this being my life. 

     October of 2007 I signed up for Weight Watchers and proceeded to lose 125 pounds over the next year and a half.  My entire life changed. Forever. I promised myself I would NEVER go back to 300 pounds and I have kept my weight off for 6 years now. The biggest challenges have come from being in a new body. One that did not end up like a super model. I had to learn who the new face in the mirror was. I did not know her, I had never seen her before. My problems were not solved at the end of my weight lose journey. No one told me I would actually have a whole new set of problems fall in my lap. 

     I still struggle with weight issues. I am still a food addict. I still see a fat girl in the mirror. However, I am also a runner and I enjoy cooking and eating healthy. I work everyday to repair the mental damage that simply became apart of my everyday thought process. I am not perfect. No one is. I have stretch marks. Everyone does. My thighs touch. So do the thighs of most people.  I created New Figure Forward as a place to be deeply honest about my body and my struggles at all of my weights.  I created my blog to be a place where women (and men) could come together and empower each other with honesty.  
     
     A passage from a pervious blog I wrote :" I will never be a super model and neither will anyone else. There is no such person. I like this reality; there is a lot less pressure realizing no one has a blemish free body. I am done playing dumb to a culture that assumes I don't know models and actresses are being Photoshopped.  I will not allow these fantasy images to influence the acceptance of my body.  I am human, I am normal, and my body is healthy and strong.  I choose to love myself, to value myself, and to cherish my body.  I will now be removing the "sucker" sticker off my forehead. No one can make me feel bad about myself anymore."

     And with that I took control over the images I see everyday. I do not read magazines any more. "Cosmo" went into the trash and does every month. I follow plus size models and other curvy empowered women on Facebook and Instagram. I love my body so much more when I see other bodies that look just like me. I look at these women and I think they are beautiful. I am beautiful. You are beautiful. I am ending my own self abuse and I hope to inspire others to do the same. Learning to love myself is not easy and everyday I have to keep working on it. I hope to encourage someone to do the same, to shut off the hateful inner monologue and embrace their body, however it maybe shaped!!

     

My weight loss gave me a new figure 

and I am pushing forward!!! 

Welcome to New Figure Forward!! 

Secret Food Addict

   

      Unsupervised in the kitchen has been a battle field for me since elementary school. I remember the first time I was left alone in the house. My grandmother had gone out with a friend and left me, and cake, alone for maybe an hour. I remember sitting and staring at the cake, swearing I could hear it call me name.
In this moment, I used the trick that I would continue to use even until today.  If I just cut off little slivers from the sides no one will notice anything is missing. I am not sure I really mastered this skill as I have been caught MANY time throughout life having eaten more than I should.

     I have been yelled at more times than I care to count for having eaten too much food or food that I wasn't supposed to eat. I have known a few "non-food sharers" who would bring in food to the house that I crave then tell me to not eat it.  When your labeled the fat kid, people think they are doing you a favor by not letting you eat the foods you crave and punishing you if you do. In all reality, it is no different then putting someones drug of choice in front of them and telling them no. A person can only be strong for so long and inevitably the Costco chocolate chip muffins were mine! Bringing in foods that, because I was fat, I was told I could not eat did not do my any favors and instead turned me into a closet eater.

     There was no amount of yelling or fat shaming that could stop me from eating the foods I craved. Sugar is my drug of choice. Cakes, cookies, chocolate, frosting, ice cream, donuts, and everything else in the sweets category is my drug. The constant ridicule for eating sweets only made me eat it in secret. Alone in the house I would eat the foods I was told not too.  The fear of getting caught was not enough to stop me, just like the drug addict is no longer scared when the craving gets too strong. I became numb to the aftermath that my drug induced binge eating would cause.

     I have done things when it comes to food that I am in no way proud of.  I have devoured entire packages of cookies, candy, cakes, and many others food and simply put the empty container in the bottom of the trash can so no one would see the evidence.  I have spooned, cut, and nibbled at foods in hopes that it would not be noticeable that I had eaten any of it.  Before I could drive I would get creative in the kitchen; mixing, stirring, and baking my way to some form of a craving fulfilled item.  Over the years I learned the ingredients for coffee cake are usually always on hand, as well as the ingredients for frosting.

     The inability to resist my cravings would eventually lead to massive amounts of guilt.  I would make my coffee cake, sit on the kitchen floor, and when I could safely eat it without burning my esophagus, I would devour half before I could process what I was doing.  My crumb covered face, like the white powdered nose of a coke head,  would knock me back into reality and drown me in guilt.  In a fit of anger I would dump the remains in the trash and bombard myself with hateful inner monologue. I called myself names that others had called me; I believed I was a fat pig.

   

    Moments after shedding tears over the trash can, I would purge. The two places I have cried the most in my life have been in the kitchen and my bathroom.  I would eventually pick myself up off the bathroom floor, wash my face, tell myself something somewhat comforting, and try to put the event behind me.  The guilt feeling would never leave. I would go about doing something else and just about every time find myself standing over the trash can.  I would mentally argue with myself; how could I seriously be considering eating out of the trash? When my craving would kick in, my standards would drop a great deal when it came to what I was eating. It is shameful to admit that, on more than one occasion, I would pick whatever it was back out of the trash and finish it.  I hated myself for doing it, yet I could not stop myself. I would binge eat until there was nothing left and then purge in hopes of sparing my waist line.

     This was my life for years. When I moved out and was away from parental supervision and judgement, my eating disorder became worse.  I worked at CoCo's Restaurant and Bakery and would take home pies after work and eat the entire pie.  I repeat, I would eat the ENTIRE pie. Why? If there was no evidence then nothing happened. I had learned to be ashamed of my sugar addiction - I was fat because I could not control myself. When I would give into my addiction I had to eat it all and throw the box away, not just in my kitchen trash but all the way to the apartment dumpster. I did not want a reminder of the sinful act that I had participated in or the judgment from someone thinking I should not be eating that kind of food in the first place.

     The freedom to purchase my own food lead to massive weight gain over time and the continuing fight to fit into my pants.  Binging and purging was normal for me up until I was 26. At that point and at 300 pounds, I signed up for Weight Watchers. Weight Watchers taught me what I had always been missing in my diets. Balance. While in the program, never once was I told I could not have a food. Instead, I was taught how I could still eat the foods I loved in moderation.  Over time the guilty feeling that would come with eating sweets went away. As I regained control over my body and mind I was no longer ashamed of being seen eating "junk food". I had grown up believing that in order to be thin I could no longer eat sweats and I would have to eat salads every day for the rest of my life. No thank you. I was willing to sacrifice my health so I could keep eating cake.

     It has been five years since my weight loss and I still struggle with binging and eating trigger foods. I did not "get over it." It's not something that can be cured. Binge eating and trigger food are a reality I have to face everyday when I am alone standing in front of the pantry door. There are foods that are not allowed in the house. For example; fruit snacks - I have eaten too many entire boxex; candy - the entire package will be demolished; Lucky Charms - yes, I admit I have had nights where I pick out all the marshmallows and throw the cereal part away.  My husband and I also have a rule in place that if we are going to indulge in a treat it must be something that will be gone in one night. No entire cakes allowed.  I have also learned that if there is something that I am craving, and craving bad, just eat it! I have found myself eating everything else expect the one thing I want and eventually end up eating it anyway. I have had to learn to accept this about myself and make accommodations because of my sugar addiction.

   Food addiction is difficult to fight. After all,  we have to eat! I do the food shopping for my family. I have the ability to pick out whatever I want. I don't struggle as much as I used too. My health is important to me and I also did not shed 125 pounds just to let Little Debbie help me pack it back on.  Do I slip up? Yes. Those oatmeal cream pies are my crack and sometimes they win. Sometimes. Do I find myself eating out of the trash? No. I have not done that in so long I can not remember the last time I did. Food is not easy to stand up against. It took years for me to better understand and ACCEPT myself for the way I am wired. If a craving hits, I will leave the house, or get online, or tell my husband, or pick up the phone. I will fight it until it passes and it almost always passes. Almost always....I am not perfect - when I do slip up I refuse to let it sabotage everything I have done. A box of cookies will not add 100 pounds to my body overnight. I get up the next day and treat it like any other day. I eat right, I work out, I put my energy into something other than thinking about food, and I forgive myself. I am only human. I will make mistakes. I accept that and no longer punish myself for it. No longer being told no, knowing that eating sweets does not make me a bad person, and I am capable of balancing the diet that gave me my life back. Most of the time...sugar is still my drug.



**UPDATE***
I have found that eliminating refined sugars from my diet has drastically improved my health. I no longer have craving (99% of the time) by replacing unhealthy treats for healthy options. I LOVE and swear by www.chocolatecoveredkatie.com for healthy sweet treats. I do not live a deprived life, I live a healthy life WITH treats. Check her out and just start slow. Find a recipe that you are comfortable trying and give it a shot!! I promise you will be blown away!!

People are Cruel Regardless of Size When You Do Not Meet Their Expectations.

 
 Everyone has a why. A reason they are who they are. Why they dislike someone or something. Why they yell, or cry, or shy away.  Why some are loud, outgoing, and confident. Understanding the reasons behind a person actions and behaviors makes them not seem so bad, we see a human. We may even find compassion and understanding for them, instead of intolerance and frustration.  I present my story of why.  I am a product of my experiences, as we all are. Let us embrace empathy for each other before we assume and place judgement. 

     When I reached the age that I was aware of others and our differences, I was the heaviest kid in the third grade and the seed of self hate was planted.  I do not remember  a time when I looked in the mirror and loved what I saw. I grew up comparing myself to others around me, models, and actresses. I did not think I was as worthy to life as the beautiful people. I did not think I was a beautiful person.  When I was young, my grandmother told me my baby fat would go away as I got older. When it stuck around and brought some friends I felt like I had failed. Why had the other girls slimmed down and I had only gotten bigger? In that moment, I labeled myself different. My body was not like the other girls in my class and that made me believe my body was wrong.

     I learned to hide how I felt about my body in 6th grade after I had a bully physically abuse me on more than one occasion.  I would never show physical weakness again and I learned to carry myself with aggression. If I appeared scary, no one would hurt me. Inside I felt trapped behind a mask; I was not an aggressive person... I was a scared girl desperately seeking confirmation for my existence.  But I refused to let the aggressors be stronger than me.  I believed I was worth being loved and I would make it to the moment when I would find that love.

     I developed a distrust of people in 6th grade as well when the entire school, including people I called my friends, conspired against me.  I attended a small country school - the total student population from kindergarten through 6th grade was maybe 50 kids.  During volleyball practice after school I was informed that the boy I had a crush on and the popular girl where now a couple. People waited for my reaction. I held it together, made it through practice, and saved my tears for the privacy of my bedroom.  It was after dinner  when a friend called to tell me the truth, that it was a lie, everyone was in on it, and they just wanted to see what I would do.  This moment caused me to have difficulty trusting people.  I never let them see me cry. I learned to hold in my emotions.

     I carried my tough exterior with me through high school. I survived name calling, pushing, people trying to fight me, and my own dietary abuse. This picture creates an image of a large unhappy girl. Inn retrospect, I was only one of those. I was unhappy.  I was not large, though I was not a size zero.  I happen to have  a woman's figure amongst a sea of junior figures and I stood out.  Standing out in high school puts a target on a persons back and my target felt huge.

     I heard fat shaming comments for years. "Are you sure you want to eat that?" "What size do you want to be?" Funny thing is the size that seemed too big for me at 16 is the size I am now at 31! I'm not unhealthy now and I wasn't at an unhealthy weight then either.  It was the expected appearance for a teenager that I did not have, therefore my figure was wrong and I was fat.  How many girls are tortured because they do not look like the socially expected 16 year old? I kept my head down, shoulders slummed, and made little eye contact. I did my best to be invisible.

     I did have moments when I was able to forget my physical appearance and enjoy a social life in high school. I was Drama Club President and in every theater production. Acting made it easy to forget my size. I could be anyone.  My first major role was the seductive villain in a 1920's inspired play entitled "Peril on the High Seas".  I loved my character and my cast-mates.  I embraced the seductive nature of my character until opening night.  I will never forget the scene in which my character is seducing the male lead. I had on a 1920's all black glamours costume. I wore a long faux fur coat over my floor length dress. In the moment, in character I removed my coat, a move that was intended to be sexy. I should have won the Academy Award for not bursting into tears and running off stage when I heard boo's and, "Put it back on!" being shouted from the audience.  I finished the performance and accepted a very heart felt apology from one of  the other actors in the play. His friends where the shouters and he felt horrible. We preformed the play four more times and I didn't take my jacket off again during the production. I know now, looking back, that high school boys are dumb and insensitive but even rationalizing the behavior does not take away the scar.

     It just became easier for me to push people away and wallflower myself as I got older. No one was going to hurt me if they couldn't get near me. I had great friends that stuck by me but I never made too many new friends after high school. I was scared of people. I had allowed myself to be abused by a boyfriend for a couple of years because it was better than being alone. Just being able to say the words "I have a boyfriend" made me feel whole and less invisible. Of course I told no one of the abuse and hid it well.  After years of put downs, physical abuse by bullies, and constant reminders that I was not socially acceptable, an abusive boyfriend did not seem wrong. Somehow I deserved what I got because I was not pretty.  I believed fat girls should be thankful for what they can get.
   

     I believe that life teaches us lessons to strengthen our purposes, our reason for being who we are.  It is not easy to talk about my past.  I have been misunderstood by many over the years simply because I do not wear a sign explaining why I am the way I am. When I lost my weight I felt in limbo, my body was healthy but my mind needed time to catch up. I still had anxiety around people, especially in large groups.  From my experiences, people made me nervous and I needed time to trust again. New people in my life where thrown off by my social awkwardness because they did not know the "fat" me, all they saw was the new physically healthy me. Unfortunately, the old me's mind in the new me's body did not match and for that I have experienced judgment and intolerance.  The judgement and intolerance slowed the mental healing process down, people are cruel regardless of size when you do not meet their expectations.

     Am I shy? Yes. Am I slow to trust people? Very much so.  Have I ever seemed awkward at times?  Is it understandable as to why I am that way? I hope so. Now the ultimate question; why am I sharing this?  I have chosen to expose my most vulnerable side in an attempt to help people understand that we ALL are products of our environment and experiences.  As a society, if we could slow down and listen to each others stories we would learn a great deal about life, the strength of the human spirit, and the unbelievable power our words and actions have on each other.  My past has given me purpose. My purpose is to help people embrace who they are, what their bodies look like, and help them love themselves.  Self esteem is not a pill one can take, it is learned.

     To anyone the may have social anxiety, know that you are not alone and that you have an incredible amount of strength inside of you. The feeling of judgment can tear a person apart. It can make it difficult to move beyond the scars. The fat third grader, the bullied 6th grader, the humiliated 16 year old, the abused 20 year old, and the 300 pound 25 year old will ALWAYS be apart of me.  These are the chapters to my story and once the story is told, suddenly I make a lot more sense to people who just did not "get" me. I am writing new chapters to my life now and I am over coming my anxieties because my mind is getting healthy as well. The world may not see a fat girl but I have been looking at the world through fat girl eyes my entire life. It takes time to heal and trust.

     I do not know your story. You do not have to share with me. I do, however, promise to not judge and allow you the freedom to write your story because every one of us is different.  We all have a story as to why we are the way we are. Judgment will not change that - it will only put up walls and take away valuable lessons and meaningful relationship with one and another.