This week has not be a good week. Crazy hours at work, tight deadlines with big consequences if missed resulted in me skipping 2 workouts out of 4 this far and stress-eating to the point of making myself ill. I have been working myself up, feeling overwhelmed, undisciplined, incompetent and FAT. The negative self-talk is back in full force, “you really should learn to control yourself, you’re such a pig – eating all that chocolate, again! Have you seen how bloated you look, how can you call yourself an athlete with that nasty diet, you know better, why is it that you go through this over and over again, you never stick up your diet plans, you promised Coach you would drop weight TWO MONTHS AGO, I bet that cafeteria worker laughs at you everytime you buy a candy bar…”
And then, a friend, a girl I find sooooooo pretty, and fashionable (a real 10!) tagged me in this picture on Facebook, along with a bunch of her other friends whom I’ve always considered to be way hotter than me:
She tagged ME. On a day where I was proud of myself for limiting myself to two Kitkat bars (as opposed to my usual, significantly higher, daily intake of chocolate).
This is the second time this has happened to me in recent memory: I get clear feedback that how I perceive myself vs how others perceive me is way outta whack.
Reading the words on that photo, I realize I can and should call myself a fit woman. And that all my imperfections, so obvious to me, do not detract from the positives of my body. I should celebrate my victories (consistent training, prioritizing my workouts, developing a powerful skill set and athleticism) even as I work towards minimizing my weaknesses (an overdeveloped penchant for chocolate and jellybeans and French fries and booze).
I should learn to be kinder to myself, and see value in who I am. THAT is what being an Amazon is all about.
#owningit
Discovering ratchet 
I’m often amazed, as a guy, at how some women I know and consider highly attractive have self-esteem issues. It really baffles me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think it stems from a perfectionism gone wrong. Fact: I ate 10 chocolate bars so far this week. Fact: eating chocolate bars is not good for you, your health or your body composition. Fact: I fucked up and harmed my body & health & body composition… (And this is where the perfectionism comes in) “Fact”: I fucked up, I always fuck up, I AM a fuck up.
LikeLike
You’re girlfriend’s right. You’re the fucking BOMB!
LikeLike
I’ve a ways to go before I can see and accept that, but I do objectively believe I am closer to my friend’s pic than what my mind tries to tell me.
It’s so weird flip-flopping btn the 2 points of view. I read the words on the pic, and I fist-pump the air “yeah!! I do have dedication and I do work freaking hard!” And then I look down at my belly and I am all, “really wish I hadn’t eaten 10 chocolate bars so far this week.”
So hard getting to the point where I can accept that both of those feelings are true and can co-exist without invalidating each other. THAT’s the hard part.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Trust me babe, I get it. I’m a chick too! I know the struggle! Buuuut believe me when I tell you, it does get easier as you get older. You become more comfortable in your own skin, and you stop beating yourself up over petty shit. Just know that you’re perfect as you are, and try to be kind to yourself! 😘 💋 ❤
LikeLike
YES
LikeLiked by 1 person