The Power of Music

I am a suicide survivor (click here) and I have a story of hope and magic for anyone who needs it.

I have always been a person that believes in signs and the magic of the universe. Especially in my darkest hour, signs, whatever they maybe, would create teeny tiny sparks of hope. When I needed a giant sign last year, I discovered a song while on a random YouTube clicking spree. Little did I know just how much impact this song would have on my life. This song started out as my life saving anthem and became so much more!

Take a listen:
Alabama Shakes-Hold on
(I cannot begin to describe how incredibly refreshing Brittany Howard is for so many reasons! )

Or read the lyrics: Hold On Lyrics

I listened to this song on repeat from the first moment I heard it. It spoke to my soul. No, it was bigger than that...this song shook my soul. I found a gigantic spark of hope from the song Hold On, my sign from the universe, and I played it ALL THE TIME while putting up the greatest fight of my life. Sometimes Hold On would make me cry a detoxing soul purifying cry, and other times it would send a serge of soul shaking power right to my core. Whichever way my soul heard this song in the moment, when it played it helped me heal. I held on and I am still here! 

Why am I telling you this? 2019 came with an opportunity I could not pass up - a sponsored trip to Israel. Many times while on the trip I reflected on where I was a year ago, drowning in depression and planning to end my life. To then find myself in Israel a year to date later... nothing short of mind blowing. 

That would have been enough, only the universe had one more magic trick up its sleeve. While in Israel, in a small sandwich shop surrounded by beautiful desert I heard my song!!! I heard Hold On!! It sent my brain, heart, and soul into overdrive. I couldn't believe I was hearing Hold On on the other side of the world! After all, I had never even heard the song on the radio back home in Las Vegas! I felt weirdly alone and empowered by love all at the same time. No one in that coffee shop knew what was happening inside my head but I knew the universe could hear my screams of delight and shock. The moment inspired me to share my story with friends I had made on the trip. I've learned to share my journey because you never know who is listening and may need the hope. 

I struggle to put into words how insane that moment was for me. I was reminded that someone/something is aware of our individual journeys and takes an active interest in reminding us that we are not alone and to hold on. Call this entity what you will, I believe someone/something bigger than me wants to see me stay. Maybe, if you are reading this story, this is your sign. Always be open to seeing the signs! That is where the magic of our world lies! 

Surviving My Suicidal Thoughts

Every time I hear of an adult suicide I get very, very scared. It hits close to home. I'm afraid that their story could have been about me. I want to write about this subject yet I have sat on this blog for weeks, constantly questioning if I am doing the right thing by admitting suicidal thoughts. Carrie Fisher once said, "My liabilities are my assets. If you declare something it has less power over you, far less. Say your weak things in a strong voice." Carrie inspires me to grab my mental illness by its balls and show it who's boss. So here goes *In my strong voice* Hi, my name is Alyson, I am 36 years old, I have anxiety and depression, and I experience suicidal thoughts. 

Often we find our sense of hope from strength in others journeys, identifying with the struggle, inspired by the vulnerability and ability to overcome. I am nervous about sharing this dark corner of my closet because there is an unspoken taboo regarding depression and suicide. However, I realize that I HAVE to share my struggle because our society needs help in breaking down the shame of mental illness. People need survival stories, they need to know they are not alone. 

I can remember having suicidal thoughts as far back as elementary school. I remember being taught that suicide is the ultimate sin and that my soul would burn in hell for all eternity. Suicidal thoughts were sent from the devil, he wanted my soul. That's powerful stuff to a kid -  I was terrified of 'burning in hell'.  As I grew older though, the devil felt more like a fairytale villain and I needed something else to help me feel strong against the thoughts. 

My teenage years were volatile and lead to my first experience with planning my own emergency exit. I survived by pure stubborn 'I am not proving any of you douche bags right' mentality. I used to repeat to myself "the greatest revenge is success" and I found strength in my unknown future. Eventually, as a young adult, I accepted suicidal thoughts as part of my being. Always telling myself "here we go again" and succumbing to the roller coaster of the internal struggle and the external chaos. Depression and anxiety, when left to their own devises, are evil life hating forces. Forces that spread to the people around me; my behaviors effected the people I loved in ways I wish I could take back. 

In my 36 years there have been three times my life was in serious jeopardy. Depression and suicidal thoughts beat me down more than the usual expected torture, making me feel like the only way to obtain relief was to end my own life. Three times I had a plan. Three times I stood in front of the emergency exit door, ready to push it open. I AM STILL HERE so that means there were three times I didn't follow through. Three times something inside of me refused to give in. 

The most recent of these time was in January 2018. I got very sick and ended up losing partial hearing in my left ear. Going partially deaf meant I wasn't going to become a firefighter. I was broken and that ended my dream. A dream I had never worked so hard in my life for, it was just...gone. Depression is the ultimate opportunist and my complete loss of purpose made me an easy target. Of course depression doesn't want its victim right away, no, depression likes to play with its food first. Depression gave me a mask to cover the internal hostel take over. I wore this mask every day, playing the role of "ok".

I'm a wife and a mom. I have a life. I have others that count on me. I am supposed to be an adult so I dutifully put on my mask and went through the motions of life. Numb. Everyday an internal beat down. It was exhausting. That's what depression wants - to wear the person down. The weak are easy prey. This is when, what I call the dark hallway, appears. It's long and daunting. There are echoes of screams and crying. The ground is covered with broken glass. This hallway isn't meant to be walked through... that why there is the emergency exit door. I faced that hallway again.

I AM STILL HERE which means I was successful at beating intense suicidal thoughts for the third time. I emerged victorious after months of constant fear. How did I pull myself out this time? I like to think I have evolved past stubborn mentality or maybe, like the devil story, I need something else. I found my something else in an unusual post I saw online. I saw a video about drunk driving on New Years that said, "Your dog will not understand why you did not came home." That became the thought that drove me to not give up. My dog. The heart breaking feeling of my dog not understanding what happened to me made me sad enough that I couldn't do it. I felt like such a shitty person because it wasn't my family that was my driving thought. In truth, hang on to whatever inspires the will to live! No one is keeping score!

I had my motivation to fight yet another battle and I also wanted to be a success story. I had to make myself give a shit about ending this hostile takeover. I made myself heal. This meant MAKING myself do the things I knew would help me. Spin class, yoga, painting and drawing, meditation, oils, crystals, prayer, personal growth projects, and confiding in trusted friends and family. That last one took the most time. Letting go of my shame for my own sake was a large hurdle and, eventually, I jumped it. 

I have chosen to share my survivor story because we need them. People experiencing the same thoughts need to know they will survive. Depression is lonely and isolating. Depression attacks each victim differently. For some it drains the life out of them, making its hostile takeover known. For others it can make you play the greatest role of your life - being the most convincing happy person you have ever been. Neither of these victims are supposed to ask for help. One feels like the ultimate burden and the other has themself convinced they are surviving, they can make it. Mental health is slowly becoming a socially acceptable topic and it is about time. People's lives depend on our society eliminating the stigmas and giving people a safe space to get help. 

I am not here to tell anyone how to manage their depression. There is no linear path to mental freedom from the dark place.  Each of us has our own unique body chemistry, experiences, values, and beliefs. What works for one person is not the answer for someone else. The objective to sharing my struggle is to help someone who might be standing at the entry of that hallway of darkness and thinking that this time, maybe the emergency exit door might be easier. You are not your thoughts! You are not worthless or weak! That voice in your head is lying to you! It's important to know you are not alone. Suicidal thoughts plague more of us than we realize because not many people talk about it! We HAVE to talk about the victories over depression and suicide. There are others who fight and win every day. EVERY SINGLE DAY. You are one of those stories, a story of victory. I offer you the hope from my journey, use it as the elbow and knee pads you need to crawl out!

I will tell you that it is imperative that you take proactive measures to find what illuminates the dark place for you. Set yourself up for success. Begin a journey of self-awareness. Learn your triggers. Talk to your doctor. How much about depression do you truly understand? Do you have anxiety? Do you understand how the two work together and what you can do to prevent them teaming up? Have you explored exercise and nutrition as ways to manage brain chemistry? How much effort have you honestly put into managing your mental health struggles? 

I wish I had counted all the light bulb moments I had last year as I learned about myself and how my brain is wired. Life changing! I have been free from suicidal thoughts for several months now. I crawled out with a new purpose, to stop living in shame and to talk about mental health. I will be the loudest person you know telling you to go for a walk and reflect on yourself. Listen to your warning signals when they are soft beeps so that you won't have to hear the sirens go off when you hit rock bottom. I am diligent about my mental health routine. I am not ashamed to explain to anyone that I have depression and anxiety and because of that I need to set boundaries and have routines. I am unapologetically myself (I feel like somewhere in heaven Carrie Fisher just yelled "hell yeah!") and I encourage you do the same! 

I hold tight to the knowledge I am here for a reason and maybe that reason, right now, is to share my story. You will be another success story too! 

                           ________________________________________________________________________________________

If you are in need of help right now, please call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline (1-800-273-8255) or text them at 741741. They are available 24 hours everyday. I called them and I AM STILL HERE! Screw shame, you are worth the effort!

Turns Out Stars Have Sharp Edges

The quote that inspired me to keep fighting for my peace 

"Shoot for the moon and if you fall, you will land among the stars."

When I shot for the moon, it was not the stars I landed in when I fell. No, instead the stars cut and scratched me as I plummeted to Earth. Then I bounced off mountains like a cartoon character until I landed in a bleeding heap on the hard ground. I laid there for a bit, ok for a while, but eventually I got back up. I got back up... that is the story I will be sharing! For every person who lost a dream (and maybe themselves) along the way, I am here to show you how I got back up stronger than ever and that life is always shaping us into better versions of ourselves if we are open to the journey!

So here goes, the story I lived to tell...

Two years ago I was inspired to become a firefighter. I lived and breathed for my goal. The first year I transformed my body into a machine and beyond losing weight, I had gained an insane amount of muscle and ability.  At one time I was busting out push ups with a 20 pound weighted vest on, crushing physical goals like I never imagined.  I went to school and became an Advanced EMT with an acceptance letter into Paramedic school. Everything was lining up; my plan unfolding right down to the last detail. I was a prime candidate for the fire department. Tests taken. I was living my dream, I had an intense sense of purpose. Only...

...that was as far as that dream would ever go.

During the second year several things steamrolled me: first, the price tag that came along with paramedic school was a kick to the gut; second my plantar fasciitis and heel spurs where working against me and my need to use my feet; and third I was mentally falling apart. I had been burning myself at both ends and eventually ran myself down into the ground. The stress of school had impacted my waistline and the fear of weight gain triggered my eating disorder to levels it had never been before. My reality was a dark one. In gunning for my dream I was destroying myself. I had to slow down for the sake of my health and wellness.

New plans where talked about so that my dream would just be put on pause while I got my head on straight. I put school on hold. I got help for my eating disorder. I began the difficult journey of putting myself back together. The most difficult part to the beginning was the shame, embarrassment, fear, and self-loathing I had inside. I was barely holding it together. Then it got worse.... 

January 2019 will mark one year that I have been partially deaf in my left ear. I lost my hearing! They don't hire deaf firefighters. So no matter how much I fixed myself and got back on track, I was never going to become the one thing I worked day and night to become. That moment of realizing my dream was over broke me. 

The beginning of 2018 felt like my life was in ruins. I was sick for months. Losing my hearing was a nightmare. The pain, the multiple doctors with no answers, the hanging on to hope, and the months of uncomfortable existence in my head was soul crushing. By my birthday in April everything had been set in stone... I had permanent hearing loss and all hope was gone. I was already deep into a depression and the finalization of my fate knocked me so far down that I felt my life was in jeopardy.

I put up the greatest fight of my life in 2018. In order to give myself the time to heal and face my demons head on, I did the only thing I could think to do - I bowed out of life for a while. I was too angry and confused to explain why the sudden screeching halt to a very public goal. The few times I crawled out of my hole I was slammed with questions and strong opinions. I just wanted to be left alone. In the beginning, no one knew the entire story expect for my husband. Eventually I opened up to a few, crying in the arms of people who had no clue what to tell me while they held onto me very tight. I didn't need speeches, I needed empathy- and to those with stronger shoulders than mine, I thank you!

The loss of a dream and my hearing wasn't anything I prepared to take on. The fight I had to put up was not easy. I discovered just how bad ass I truly am, and it had zero to do with my physical strength. I am a hell of a lot stronger mentally then I ever gave myself credit for. I struggled quietly everyday. I used Instagram as a diary of sharing my struggles, yet never mentioning just how deeply I was cut. I never talked about not becoming a firefighter. I couldn't. I still struggle to do so now (you should see pile of tissues forming by my computer as I type this all out!). If you happen to know me in real life, I warn you, mention this article to me and I may very well cry - so brace yourself.

I refused to give up and 2018 was the year I conquered my eating disorder, dove deep into understanding my struggles with binge eating, anxiety disorder and depression, and dug through layers of pain to unearth an inner peace like I have never known. In order to find this peace I had to create an environment for myself that inspired deep spiritual healing. I returned to parts of myself I had long since been buried in the layers of adulting. I turned to yoga. I turned to art. I lit incense and meditated with crystals. I smudged my house. I gave myself permission to just be and explore different ideas about life and purpose. I found myself becoming softer, more at ease with myself and those around me, and discovered a renewed sense of calm about life. I healed in ways I never anticipated. I had monumental break throughs. I see the meaning of life so very differently than I used too. This journey that I have been on, searching for new meaning, ended up being the very thing that gave me meaning. I survived relentless suicidal thoughts brought on by depression. I survived and THAT is the story that needs to be told!

I am a success story of overcoming the loss of purpose and meaning. I am a success story for ending my life long battle with bulimia. I am a success story for understanding my anxiety in ways that gave me back my power. I am a success story to ending the war with my body and finally allowing myself to live and enjoy what my body can do. I am a success story in overcoming a dark depression. I successfully hit the reset button on my life and every lesson learned needs to be shared. Not every sad story has a sad ending! 

Stay tuned to New Figure Forward in 2019 for more blogs, YouTube videos, and Instagram posts covering the accumulation of lessons that transformed my life and gave me back my purpose.

A Commercial for Empowerment

This is hands down the GREATEST commercial I have EVER seen!! 

The U.K. is leaps and bounds ahead of the U.S. and we need to catch up! Every women and teenage girl I know needs to see this video! Pass it on. 

I am right, huh? This is amazing!! Check out other great videos here and share with your friends and family. 

LOVE IT!!

Two Words That Are A Punch in the Gut. Every Time.

     

Not easy to write about. At all. 

      I had no intention of ever writing on the topic. It felt too personal and embarrassing. However, recently I have felt the universe pushing me expose a tender secret. Having already shared so much of myself with my readers, what is one more skeleton ripped out of my closet. I share because I know I am not alone and connecting with others who feel the same is what I need to truly heal.

     I have already spoken about having PCOS and the side effects. I have not spoken about the infertility part of PCOS. I have not shared what it feels like to be a broken woman.  I feel broken, like my box did not come with all the parts. There is a part of womanhood I will never experience and I admit I am jealous of those who do. Jealous so much that when someone tells me they are pregnant or I see a post on Facebook it feels like a punch to the gut; like many, many punches to the gut by an angry boxer going for blood.

     My husband has a 9 year old son from a previous marriage whom I have the joy of calling my son. I do get to be a mom and I love my step-son with all my heart but it's just not the same. I did not get to do the baby part; my step-son was 3 when I came in to the picture. A short time ago my husband and I came to terms with not having a baby together. A year or two ago my husband and I worked with fertility doctors and quickly found ourselves about to lose our savings and all future savings for a decade or two to cover the cost of a bunch of maybes. I never cried more in my life. I lost 125 pounds in hopes of fixing myself. I quit smoking. I made exercise a part of my daily life. Only to have it feels like it was all for nothing. Those months were extremely difficult for me, for us. My husband and I did come out on the other side, tear free and confident in our choice to no longer pursue a baby. It is a choice that I am content with. 97% of the time.

     We have lists of reasons why we tell ourselves we are ok with our situation. In an emergency we have been known to watch YouTube videos of screaming babies to help turn off the "I want a baby" feeling.  It works. I am able to swallow the empty feeling and continue on; I have no choice, and I refuse to be a victim of my situation. Recently, however, the universe has been making my ability to not think about babies very difficult. Facebook friends with adorable baby pictures, a pregnancy announcement from a family member, then several from friends. Back to back to back. It overwhelmed me and a few nights ago I found myself in uncontrollable tears.  I just could not stay strong any longer.

     I do not think about babies on a regular basis. It is not at the forefront of my thoughts, until someone tells me they are pregnant, and then the boxer comes out gunning for me. I have developed "happy baby face".  I know what to say and I might even jump up and down if the occasion calls for it. I am good at being excited for someone else. The only person who sees what I am truly feeling is my husband, who is always stronger than I with baby announcements. I do not begrudge my loved ones the joy of being pregnant, but sometimes I wish they could understand what it is like to know I will never get to say those words. No one will ever jump up and down for me and I'll never know that bond. 

My dog, Marty, is my heart. 

     The boxer leaves me alone most days, to rest in his corner, waiting for someone to announce a baby, and only then do I feel that punch in the gut. Only then do I scramble to YouTube to watch a video of a tantrum. Only then do I shed a few tears in private. Only then do I question all the rational choices I have made myself make many times now. I will not have a baby. I will be the best damn step-mom I can be. My husband loves me regardless. I will always baby talk to my dogs. I will spoil my family because they are my world. One day it will just be my husband and I and I am ok with that. Most days. 

     I cherish the time I have with my step-son, he and I are very close. I am Mom to him. I volunteer in his classroom, I cheer for him at soccer games, and use my spit on a tissue to get the schmutz off his face. I treat him no different than I would my own. I am blessed to have my family and I love them dearly. 

     I share this with you, my readers, because I know I am not alone and a reminder helps every now and then. If I am your reminder that you are not alone, I hope I help. When a woman cries for the loss of what never was, she does not cry alone. We are women and we are incredible. You are incredible. I am incredible. My, our, inability to create life does not take away from the love we show those around us. We matter to someone! 

Breast Therapy

I have struggled with body acceptance since my weight loss.  I wrote about how I felt about my body in Looking Naked in the Face. I have gained empowerment with my body and have learned to embrace it with love and kindness. That being said, let's face it. No one is perfect.  My breasts still effect my self esteem.  Luckily, I'm not showing my breasts to anyone expect my husband and a good bra hides what I don't have.  Did I ever foresee myself in a room with several other women topless? Nope, yet that day came this past Friday.

Photo courtesy of  LV Burlesque Studio

A friend of mine invited me to take a tassel twirling class at a burlesque studio. I had to think about it. Tassel twirling meant being topless, no push up bra, no hiding. This terrified me, but ultimately I said yes. Breast therapy. I'm going to set the girls free and embrace what I have while learning a few tricks. If ever there was a time to face my fear, this was it. Plus, knowing I had a trusted friend with me could keep me strong.


My fear was being surrounded by women with perfect breasts and then there would be me with my not so perfect breasts standing out.  I could not have been more wrong. I was relieved to see women of all sizes, ages, and breast sizes.  I wrote in "Looking Naked in the Face":

     A room filled with women, all stripped down, we would see how similar our bodies actually are to each other. We all have stretch marks, we all have different shaped breasts, we all have things we can pinch and poke. These are our bodies. Real bodies. Strip down the model or actress on the magazine and we will see that their bodies are actually just like our bodies. They get special lighting, air brush body make-up, and Photoshopping to make them look perfect. However, naked body to naked body we are all cut from the same mold. The mold of imperfect bodies that tell our individual stories.  

Photo courtesy of  LV Burlesque Studio

This is unbelievably true!! My classmates for the evening were real women with real bodies. I would have never guessed how liberating and empowering it was to be topless among a group of women.  I felt relief realizing every pair of boobs in the room where different; big, small, round, and oval. My boobs did not stand out; instead they blended in! 

Tassels in place, we learned how to twirl them several different ways. Twirling requires jumping, shoulder shimmies, and lots of upper body movement. The girls where flying everywhere and it was so much fun! I was surprised that I was enjoying myself. I was not self conscious about my breasts or my body at all; in fact, I was proud of myself! My breasts handled the tassels like pros, as did all the boobs in the class. I felt sexy. It's hard not to feel sexy in black yoga pants, high heels, and gold tassels. 

Photo courtesy of  LV Burlesque Studio

I walked out of the class loving my breasts! I walked away with confirmation that all women's bodies are different shapes and sizes and they are all beautiful.  I will twirl my tassels with pride knowing that my breasts are more like the "real" women I see everyday - they are mine and they are awesome! 

Thank you Cha-Cha and Las Vegas Burlesque Studio for a fun, body accepting environment that put me at ease and allowed me to open up and embrace my body! 

Remnants of a Binge

     I had a sobering moment in my car today. While I was poking around in my glove box I came across an old candy wrapper.  I sat holding it, having flashes of the me up until 3months ago. The sugar binger. The sugar hider. The sugar sneaker.  I would eat my candy in my car, usually within minutes of leaving the store.  I ate it quickly and I ate it all. A fleeting moment of bliss and then the guilt would beat down on me like a hammer.

     When I refer to sugar as my drug, I am not being cute. I mean it to my core. Sugar ruled my thoughts, sabotaged my healthy eating, and made me hate myself. I was addicted. I was a bitch when I wanted something sweet and couldn't find any. I would eat other things to try to curb the cravings; that never worked. When I would get what I wanted I would binge on it, including ODing on chocolate cake until I was sick. I am not the only one. I am not the only person who has found the only way to stop themselves from eating sugar is to pour salt, soap, or Windex on it.

     I had to come to terms with my addiction when it was seriously interfering with my health. If I did not quite sugar, it would be the thing that was going to make me very sick.  Women with PCOS are wired to crave sugar due to having insulin resistance. Drastic highs and lows in blood sugar can cause mood swings, cravings, weight gain, fatigue, and depression. The huge risk in feeding the craving for sugar is the high risk of diabetes, stoke, and heart disease.  I was walking a path of destruction. It did not matter that I was happy with the number of the scale and my pants still fit; on the inside I was destroying myself.  Reality check time.

     So, just like a drug addict or alcoholic, I asked for help with my addiction.  I found what I needed by way of support and understanding. I woke up one day and never touched sugar again.  The first week was horrible. I was a bitch. I was short with everyone and nothing would make me happy. I stayed strong, motivated by my own health and well being. All the research had sunk in and I wanted to be free from this poison. I detoxed from my drug of choice and I survived and no one died.

     I came out on the other side free from cravings and binge eating. I had made peace with my body. I promised to no longer abuse my body and to only care for it with loving thoughts and healthy foods. I found great dessert recipes that not only satisfy but are so much better than the junk I was eating prior to my change.  I have found myself happier and more stable in mood swings. I am happy with myself. I am proud of the adult I am working hard to become. I am not a victim of my addiction. I forgive my body for what it does with sugar due to my PCOS and now I make accommodations for my body and nourish myself.

 

Here are a few changes I made to break my bond with sugar:

-I do not eat anything with high fructose corn syrup

-No more white sugar, brown sugar, powdered sugar, cane sugar, and sucralose.

 -I read labels on EVERYTHING

      - if I cannot read what is in it, I do not eat it. No more franken foods!

-No more white flour and very little wheat flour

- More fruit and vegetables

- I found Chocolate Covered Katie (google her....you'll love her) for healthy desserts

-I use coconut sugar

-I drink lots of tea, all sorts of flavors. It's my new spurge at the store instead of candy.

-I had to make myself be ok with saying no to everyone. Family or friends. It is not personal. Sugar items to me are like putting drugs in front of a recovering drug user. I had to be ok with being open about why I am making the choices I make.

-I made connections online. PCOS websites filled with stories just like mine. I am not alone. That helps.

   

     The most important change I made was realizing this is about my health and well being.  Sugar will not be the thing that beats me! I eat for my health and not a number on a scale any more. Weight is not the whole picture of health.  I know I have to stay away from sugar. I have eaten it once since I stopped and I had a headache so bad I almost cried. That was all I needed to know! No cupcake is worth that kind of pain!

To read all about my sugar addiction click here
It is a very real addiction!

My Second Chance

     At one point in my life, I did not think I was worthy of much. I believed that I should be thankful for what I had because, after all, who could love me? I gained 65 pounds in the 6 months leading up to my first wedding. I almost needed a new dress but was able to have it let it out and add a panel. I look back and can see what a huge sign that weight gain was; I was not happy. I walked down the aisle anyway because having a husband somehow validated me. 

     My weight gain continued and I found myself at 300 pounds within the first year of my marriage. I found myself unable to live the life I wanted and I felt trapped. One day, after wiping tears from my eyes, something inside me snapped and I changed my life. I walked into Weight Watchers and never looked back. I fought for my second chance. I shed my weight and discovered a woman who had outgrown her current circumstances and deserved a second chance. 

     During my weight loss, I was prepared for the physical change but I was not prepared for the mental change. The true change was in how I felt about myself. I discovered love, passion, joy, and self worth.  Some of the choices I was faced with after my weight loss were not easy. After immense soul searching, I chose to start over and honor the woman I had fought to become. 

     My ex-husband and I parted with a mutual understanding and forgiveness. We each went our own ways with the encouragement from each other that happiness was worth the pain of divorce. I did find my happiness. The new me got my second chance at love. When I was not looking, I fell in love with my best friend. We have been together for 5 years and married for over 2 years now.  Weight loss changes so much more than the body. For me, it changed who I was and what I thought I deserved. I am thankful for the day I broke - the day that made me change my life and never look back.  I found self worth and truly fell in love. 

     Here's to second chances!