Reflections…

I’ve been blogging a long time.

Three and half years I’ve put my life changing journey out here for the masses(and by masses I mean the 150 or so people that click my blog each day) to read, digest, contemplate and hopefully then decide themselves to move in their own life changing direction. If it’s happen to me in the last 3+ years more than likely I’ve blogged about it openly.

Nothing has been off limits up to this point.

Marriage.

Divorce.

Marriage again.

Transgenderism.

Weight loss.

Body Image.

Eating “disorders”.

Mental Health.

Addiction…

I put myself out here because for much of my life I felt alone. Swimming against a current I couldn’t beat. Struggling to feel some sort of self acceptance when I looked in the mirror and all I got was self loathing. Finding emotional relief in foods that couldn’t call me FAT or STUPID or WORTHLESS and then trying to find more emotional relief in violently purging because eventually the hatred I felt towards myself  couldn’t be comforted by boxes of macaroni and cheese or half gallons of ice cream. As my emotional/physical health became a focal point in my life I felt compelled to share my story so that others wouldn’t feel like they too were all alone in what can be a very ugly world in which to exist.

Not that long ago I received my very first, what I would call “I don’t like you Tara” mail to a post I wrote about “showing up” to the Half Ironman competition. In hind sight I feel very lucky that after 400+ posts, some 500k hits and over 3000 comments this is my first one. I read it. Re-read it.Replied* directly to the emailer. Trashed it on the blog. Trashed it in my email and went about my business.

And yet over a month later I’m blogging about it.

Reflecting.

The following is verbatim to what was sent:

So, remember when you were an Internet panhandler? And you begged people for money you didn’t have to go to a fitness conference? (P.S. how dare you act like an entitled brat when you chose to leave your husband for Mimi and move to a foreign country and sit on your ass for 18 months)..So what happened to all that money you conned people out of?

And when are you going to stop beating the hell out of your body and believe that you’re worthy of love and you’re enough?

Sometimes I write about things and you only get a “small picture” version of the “Fuck this is BIG PICTURE shit happening right now”. Life can’t be summed up in a few paragraphs with a few pictures thrown in for good measure. You don’t see the internal battle that happens during this journey of changes both emotionally and physically. I try my best to condense a lifetime of “STUFF” into short bursts of coherent words. To help me better understand who I am, who I want to be and to not go down without one heck of a fight.

I may be an entitled brat for leaving my husband after being together for almost 10 years because I fell in love with Mimi and “sitting on my ass” for 18 months in a foreign country but as I step back from the email sent I realize that again most people only see what I allow them to see. What I choose to share. What you choose to understand. And more often than not there is going to be some personal feelings interjected into your personal opinions on someone else’s personal journey.

I’m not writing this blog as a “OH HEY NOW WAIT A FREAKING MINUTE HERE. LET ME DEFEND MYSELF….” The joy in learning to love who you see in the mirror is that you begin to understand that the love you so desperately fight to find happens without needing to defend yourself. No one knows what it was truly like to experience leaving Mitch. To leave the comforts of what had become my life because no matter what I had at that time I wasn’t happy. I didn’t love myself. Period. End of story. Give me a house. Two cars. A great career. A devoted husband. Friends. Money….

I didn’t love the being that was inside.

And no matter what was happening outside, things had to change.

Falling in love was never on my “To-Do” list. When I wrapped my arms around myself and held on with as much emotional strength as I could muster, repeating a million times over “you ARE worthy” something magical happened: The self love that was planting itself firmly in my being was reaching out. Not out of physical attraction because let’s face it, my whole life I’d thrown my body at any signs of attention. Fucking = Love. Right?  I was learning to love someone unconditionally and that someone happened to be on her own journey of planting those multiple seeds of self-acceptance, self-worth and fighting everyday to save herself emotionally while changing her body physically.

I didn’t write this playbook. If I was penning the story of my life before it happened this chapter might never have been written. In the two years I’ve been married to Mimi I’ve learned what it’s like to FEEL words like “marriage”, “commitment”, “patience”, “understanding”, “deserving”, “unconditional”, “dedication”, “protect”, “LOVE” instead of just saying them because we took our pants off and bumped girl parts and fucking = love, right?

And when are you going to stop beating the hell out of your body and believe that you’re worthy of love and you’re enough?

Isn’t that the million dollar question my friend?

reflectionsWhen I look in the mirror or at a passing window, I still don’t see what the rest of the world sees. A successful 100+ pound weight loss story. A marathoner. An athlete with muscles. Don’t get me wrong I mean I know that’s who I am but it’s not what I see. I still struggle to release the morbidly obese Tara from my life. I struggle to turn down the voices of “you can’t” while blasting the speakers with “you can”. I still struggle to get out of bed some mornings because the emotional weight of self hatred is heavier than the emotional power of self love.

A life time of living in a world of “you’ll never be worthy enough” being egged on by “You’ll never be good enough” doesn’t just disappear because for the last three years I’ve been working towards a more accurate version of myself. Beating the hell out of my body is not just about pushing my physical limits but about taking care of my body. I spent 40 years shoving food down my throat followed by a spoon to bring that same food up so violently the blood vessels in my eyes popped. I spent years snorting and smoking meth and trying to get lost. I didn’t move. I laid down and accepted what I thought I deserved.

I’m not beating my body up now.

I was beating it up then.

I may not see what you see but I don’t look away from my reflection any longer. I stare. I linger. I love. I learn. And instead of laying down and accepting what I thought I deserved, I’m out in the world going after what I truly know I deserve.

Me.

And while sharing this “me” journey I realize not everyone is going to get it. You’ll take what you want and turn it around to better fit your beliefs, opinions and your “Well I certainly wouldn’t do x,y and z”. It helps to lash outward when what you’re really doing is wanting to lash inward. Take heed in your words. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. You only know what I choose to share. And just when you think you *might* know me you can believe things are gonna change up a bit because the beauty about this journey is it’s not a straight line from point A (birth) to point B (death)…It’s a winding path full of uphill battles and down hill victories. It’s full of twists and curves and “holy crap I didn’t see that coming”.

The journey is about living and for so long I wasn’t.

Today is a different story.

________________________________________________________________________________________

* This was my response:
 Answer: we returned every cent back to those people that so kindly offered to help.

Answer: probably never with hatred spewed in my direction from the likes of people like you.

Thank you for your concern. I hope all is well on your side and this ungrateful brat is appreciative of your questions and concerns.

PS. My now ex husband is doing extremely well, has fallen in Love and moved on. I suggest you do the same.

 

7 comments to Reflections…

  • For me, that’s one of the tough things about blogging….there are people out there who feel, for whatever reason, that just because they read your blog, they’re somehow entitled to share their harsh opinions on your life. Like it somehow gives them a right. Some people fail to understand that there is so many more parts of us, so many other aspects of our lives that we choose not to share. A blogger isn’t just the stories they share; we share only those parts we want to share…and no one is entitled to more than that.

    Good on you for responding to this person head on. Hopefully you’ll be able to let it go and move on. Keep sharing, Tara, because for every “hater” out there, there are so many more who are inspired by you and your story.

  • If there’s anyone in this world who I can say knows me, (maybe for the first time ever) it’s you. And that came through marriage and a life lived and maybe because of the background of understanding where we each came from. But even then, even in love and two years of sharing our lives as a married couple there are times when it’s difficult to share the stuff inside my head, to let you “know” the parts of me that still struggle.

    But I know you. I know you as my MATE.
    I know you as my handsome 87% (sometimes 89% boy).
    I know you as the one who never backs down from a challenge and knows how to push herself physically and emotionally farther than anyone else I know.
    I know you.

    #LAWN

  • Scout

    Tara, I am really impressed that you handled a hater with class and thoughtfulness. My response would probably not have been so measured. I think it’s a good thing that people express dissent with someone’s choices when those choices are sent out into the world in a – let’s face it – public forum like a blog. I also think that people need to remember that we never know the whole story. Not yours, not the story of the person hurling their vitriol at you. We sometimes don’t even know our own, as you pointed out, because no one hands us the playbook at the beginning and sends us off with a “don’t worry about years 3 through 40; they look like a bitch, but once you get past that part it’s a bit better”. It comes down to this: We have all made mistakes. We have all lived through things that didn’t help us and actively hurt us. We all handle our shit the best we can with the tools we have at the time. We all have triumphs! I love you for sharing yours in the most open and honest way.

  • Nicole

    I have been reading your blog for years, I identify with so much of your posts, past and present. I hope you keep writing, for all us other lost people out there, who just need to read of others rising above and claiming what we deserve not what our head tells us we should settle for x

  • Corryn

    Your controlled response, just like everything else you share with us, is so inspiring. May we all learn to recognize that any hatred we feel from others is actually a reflection of their own feelings of inadequacy. Thank you for the reminder.

  • Love this post so much. You’re so right; our blogs are only a microcosm of what we choose to share.

  • I just discovered this blog. Wow!! Just wow!!! Inspirational doesn’t even begin to describe what this feels like… I’m just at the beginning of my journey. And my starting position is far more luxurious then yours ever was, so i’m a bit ashamed of all the complaining i’m doing. I will take my time to read your story and i will keep it in mind when i’m struggling with mine! Thank you for sharing your story!!

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