Beholding

This is a post I seriously considered making private. But then I debated (heck, I'm still debating until I hit the publish post button) whether or not that was ok. I mean, it's ok for me to have some private and some public thoughts, but ultimately what would be robbed if I come on here and talk about how I want to be honest and vulnerable, but then hide the posts that are the most honest and the most vulnerable? It'd make for a pretty lame blog. Actually, it'd just make for a lie I think.


So, so far, I'm planning on publishing. But that could all change. Because at the end of the day, sometimes I really am just a coward. I'm just scared enough about what you might think to say, "oh no! This one isn't funny! Throw something witty in Kell, or people won't like your blog". Except the problem with that thought is reality, and the fact that it isn't always funny. Frequently funny...like those moments when you fart on a treadmill and immediately give an accusing look to your neighbor. Mean, yes, but also kinda funny. Or when you drone on and on about skinny jeans and frappucinos. I knew I wouldn't spell that word right on my first try.


But then there's those moments where reality hits you right smack between the eye balls and says, "Shut it Kell, this one isn't funny", and all you can do is hang your head and admit that, yep, sometimes trying to lose weight isn't funny.


Tonight I had a conversation with a good friend that somehow turned towards men and women and what makes us different. Specifically in the realms of attraction. And while I don't want to get into all of the nuances and stereotypes here, I know that the truth is, being on the rejected end of attraction hurts. Being the girl that has the "great personality" or "cute face" is an incredibly lonely place to be. I understand that my weight is more than likely the biggest contributing factor to my singleness, but that kinda makes me want to scream and punch people. Which, on second thought, could also be a contributing factor. But about the weight, sometimes I just want to get a tshirt, or a sandwich board that says, "It's just skin. That's all. And it can change. It can get bigger, it can get smaller, it can be changed. Look past that, because I'm a girl with a heart. A very big heart, and I'd like to share it with someone who can look past the skin. After all, it's just skin".


I know very well that it's not just skin. I understand the risks of health problems and chronic illness. And I'm not discounting that. I guess I'm saying quite the opposite. I'm tired of being discounted because of the weight.


Maybe Cinderella lied to us. Maybe the Prince doesn't come in and see us covered in soot and say, "I'd like to love you anyways, because I know deep down, I get to have a Princess in the end". And before I get Jesus Juked I know that there's a true Prince who loves me, but somehow that just doesn't cure the ache in my heart when I see the rejection in men's eyes. I understand that I'm loved, but the truth of the matter is I so often wonder if I'm actually loveable. Goodness that sounds dramatic. But it's real.


It's probably just a pity party, but there you go. I'm throwing down my "if you've never had a pity party, you're probably a liar" card. In the mean time, I'm doing some serious thinking and planning, and hopefully even a little doing, because it is just skin. And it can be changed. I've already lost so much, and I can lose so much more. Until then, thank you all for being my Prince Charmings and Fairy Godmothers. You've been great friends, and your encouragement really fuels me.

For now, I'll keep trying to do the next right thing, and hoping that God really does bring around a man that is A) breathing, B) loves Jesus, and C) thinks I'm hot. All are non-negotiable.

I'm a Working Girl Now! Wait...That Sounds Wrong...

Tonight I was introduced to a baby as The Incredibly Shrinking Kelly. True story. This baby, William, has a mohawk. Which means this baby's cool status is already 1,000 points higher than mine. But that's ok, because I have a blog, and somebody introduced me by the title of said blog. He can't even read, so I'm way ahead in the scholastic points. Granted he's six months old and I'm 31, but really, it's the competition that counts. I can probably out arm wrestle him too...mohawk or no.


Speaking of competition, I feel like I need one. I don't know if that's even true. But, I need something other than the sheer number of pounds I have left to lose to motivate me. By the way, somehow the 5k is just a mere month and a half away, and I've trained all of a day or two for it. Yes, a day. Or two. Ugh. I might die. But there's beer and live music at the end of the 5k, so if I die, it'll be a very convenient time for a wake. Feel free to go all Irish for me.


It's probably not a good excuse for having only worked out a couple of times, but I got a job!!! I'm back in the mortgage industry, which is an awesome use for my Biblical Studies degree, and my Psychology degree. Oh well. It at least allows for interesting conversation. And my non-ministry and non-therapy related job does come along with a paycheck, which allows me to afford the things in my life I'll need to start the Incredibly Shrinking Kelly part deux! This time with money! So far I have blender bottles for protein shakes (heck, I can afford protein shakes again!), a new pair of workout pants, and 10 extra pounds. Yep. 10 extra pounds. As in, I lost 'em before, and I get to lose 'em again. The important thing is I'm not bitter.


So, here's the down part about having a job again, and yes, contrary to what my roommate - who appreciates my new found ability to contribute to little things like groceries and electric bills again - might say, there is a down side. Like, now I have to pack clothes, and food prior to leaving my house early enough to get to the gym, work out, shower, get pretty (while having shaky muscles), and then drive the rest of the way to my job in Dallas, where I stiffen up the whole time I'm sitting at my desk, only to leave the office, drive home in my car that smells like a gym bag, and collapse before doing it all again tomorrow.


But it's worth it, right?


Unfortunately I'm not so organized of a person, and so I've only successfully done this twice since starting my new job. However, I don't want those 10lbs to bring back their buddies, the other 53lbs, and so I've gotta figure out a way to motivate my butt to become that organized. I'd much rather my muscles bring back their ability to walk up stairs. Way to aim high Kelly. But it's true. I'd like those little calorie munchers to take down another 63lbs, or heck, maybe 75lbs this year. Ok, secretly I want to lose 100lbs this year, but I'm not sure I've got the motivation or discipline for it.


Or do I?


Just questioning it makes me want to prove I can. Seriously, I'm competitive with a 6 month old for cool points, you think I'm not competitive with myself? But I really do think that I should work on some sort of reward based system, or competition system (if anyone's in), or accountability, or SOMEthing. I'm just not sure what. So, who has a suggestion? Comment here or Facebook, but who has a thought? How does Kelly keep going in this newly heightened level of responsibility, ie: the real world where folks work for a living, and still get it done? Because I'll tell you this much, 6am is not my favorite hour of the day. And making a ton of food beforehand to pack into lunches, not my favorite way to spend a sunday. And the stench of sweaty clothes in a car, in a parking garage all day is not something that should be bottled and sold next to Clinique Happy anytime soon. But it's worth it.

So how do I remember that it's worth it?


Ready....go! Comment away, here or FB, because I really *do* want your ideas. They are probably better than my own. Well, as long as I get to keep some Scholastic points that is.