I was beyond sad, beyond tired, beyond desperate.
I had gotten to an all time emotional and physical low.
Being a working woman, mom of 3 children, and a wife led me to believe that I could not and should not give myself any time.
I believed that every moment should be dedicated to their happiness and well being. I did all I could to make this possible and it was killing me inside.
It had been snowballing since as far as I could remember.
I dealt with ridicule about my weight from as far back as I can remember, by loving family members who didn't know better, other children, who had not been taught better, and myself, because I believed I deserved it. I hid my struggles from everyone, I binged to make myself feel better, which only made me feel worse, I tried so hard to be bulimic, I just wanted to purge my binges so I could fit in with everyone else. I remember being so mad that I could not do it, I thank God now that I wasn't able to do it. I just wanted to to be accepted in the eyes of my family as my skinny sister was (no fault of hers of course), I wanted to wear what my friends were wearing, I wanted the boys to look at me.
A boy did eventually look at me and I married him ; ). My husband has never said anything about my weight no matter how big I got.
God bless his heart. We had 3 children, I ballooned all 3 times, add to this hypothyroidism and its a recipe for disaster. I used every excuse in the book, I work, I have 3 kids, I have a husband, I have to cook, do laundry, clean, take kids to their activities, in the midst of all this I tried every pill, every fad out there, weight watchers, Atkins, starving, you name it, I tried it and sure enough, it would work, for the 2 weeks I did it, then, bang, I would binge when it got too hard, or it stopped working because my metabolism was
saying “lady, screw you and this starvation thing, I’m holding on to every ounce of fat you have.” I remember getting to the point where I couldn’t stand the sight of myself anymore, my double chin almost choked me when I would lay down, everything was large and mushy. Nothing I would wear looked right. I basically
was disgusted with myself and I would say I hated myself. So, I started to google coaches and found Jenna, and off I went, Hooray, I felt wonderful that first day, meal plan and workout
plan in hand. I got myself a binder and wrote my week out and had it all planned out in my head, or so I thought. It’s always exciting to start something new right??
I didn’t realize that just having that information in my hands wasn’t going to change me. I had to change first. Gosh those first few months were so hard. Our family was going through some tough times with a sick parent and there was a lot of pressure and
emotions in the house. I had excuse after “valid” excuse why I couldn’t do it. For heaven sakes, I’m a mom of 3, work full time, have a husband and a house, responsibilities and this sick relative, what the heck, where was I supposed to find time. I did ok the first few weeks, but without a solid plan and without the right mindset I was just setting myself up for failure again, I knew this, I
expected this, I didn’t know how to do it any differently.
It took many, many wrongs and many, many emails from my coach, trying to lift my spirits, tell me she believed in me, tell me the choice was mine, tell me that it would only
happen if I did the work. I was mad at her most of the time, seriously, what did she know, she was a young, single, beautiful, fit woman with time to spend in the gym. What I didn’t realize is that it had nothing to do with her, it was me, I was angry at myself, for letting myself down, over and over and over again. What the hell was my problem, get it together Sandi, just do it
already…easier said then done. I had to regroup, I needed support from other women who new how I felt, or at least somewhat of what I felt. I surrounded myself with strong supportive women. I started to read about how to change my negative attitude into a more positive one, I started to tell myself I was worth
it, I could do it. I had to break my days down, take it one meal at a time, one workout at a time and celebrate those victories, I couldn’t see the big picture, I couldn’t imagine where I would get, I just wanted to change.
What was different this time??
I was refusing to give up on myself; I had a coach who was more then patient with me and believed more in me than I did. I had wonderful women routing me on and celebrating every minor change I made. Some weeks my body wouldn’t change and that annoyed me, but I celebrated the right things I had done and forgave myself for the wrongs. I conditioned myself to realize I wasn’t in a race, there is no finish line, I have to do this forever, not just for that function coming up or a special day.
Thinking this way made it much easier to forgive myself for “cheating” on my meal plan, if I messed up one day it was ok, I got another chance the next day to get it right, this was imperative in my journey; this mind change is what
made all the difference. I couldn’t have done it alone. My husband, my ladies and my coach were always in my corner even when I wasn’t in it.
Support is vital in all areas of our lives; we need people to celebrate us when we can’t celebrate ourselves.
I learned to take it one day at a time, to be patient, to be kind, and to believe in myself.
I am the happiest I have ever been, my family is happier, life is just better, it's not always rainbows and unicorns but its a much happier place to be.
Be patient, Be kind, Believe.