There Wasn't the Way

I've decided to go all-natural on one aspect of this year's resolution: stress-eating.

I always have a little slip-up, usually around the holidays, but the holiday season is behind me, and I am holding steady on my plan to avoid stress eating.

And I won't go into all the details (some of you know that I made a very specific resolution that can't be shared yet...), but I have decided to give in to some stress eating in the meantime, to relieve the stress of being unemployed.

So yesterday, while I was at the gym (more on that in a moment), I couldn't help but stop by the snack bar for a treat.

At first, I knew I shouldn't, but I wanted one too badly.

After all, I was having a great time watching the Biggest Loser, the first of four seasons I've been hooked on this season.

Then I remembered my goals.

If I want to make a change, I can't lose sight of that.

I mean, I was pretty upset when I found out I wasn't going to be rehired in January, but I wasn't going to let myself beat myself up over something I can't control.

And I still won't.

But that doesn't mean I should go home, get a bag of popcorn, and let it take over.

I've also decided to run (I finally have a running route I can run) once a week, and I'm feeling perfect about that.

The reason I've decided to get up off the couch and take care of myself in this way is that I need to learn to listen to my body.

Because there are things I can't control (and therefore, have no excuse for not doing), I have to take care of myself.

And it does make a difference.

I didn't blog about it yesterday, but the night before last, I was having a really hard time falling asleep.

I turned on my favorite fall song and was transported back to Halloween night, 2005.

That was the year we had gone to the neighborhood street party and had made our costumes out of recycled material.

I had made a suit for Tommy out of some bedsheets that I had.

Tommy was a pirate, with a rather unique and elaborate outfit.

I was a witch with a green dress, black catsuit, black veil, and big, black hat.

We had come home to change, and we were having dinner, just the two of us.

I said something about it being cold.

Tommy nodded and offered to stay in the bedroom.

I didn't want him to leave the room, because I knew he wanted to be close to me, but I also knew he didn't want to keep me up all night.

So I told him I would be right back.

I ran upstairs to get some pajamas, and when I got back downstairs, he was asleep.

We had gone through this routine many times before.

I kissed him on his forehead and told him I loved him, and I walked away.

I turned on the TV in the living room and flipped on the lights to start getting ready for bed.

Then I sat down on the couch to watch television, and I just got really sad and a little angry.

How could he just go to sleep and leave me?

Not because I didn't want to stay up all night, but because I knew he wanted to be close to me and I didn't want to bother him with my feelings.

I knew he was comfortable, and I knew he didn't want to keep me up all night.

And I was sad because he was comfortable, and I wasn't.

I was falling asleep.

At that moment, I knew exactly why I was feeling so angry.

I wasn't letting myself feel what I was feeling, so I didn't have an opportunity to deal with it.

I didn't take any action on it, because I was scared of feeling it and of letting it out.

I knew I wasn't going to get through life if I was going to feel unhappy for the rest of it.

I knew that I needed to take the risk and allow myself to be okay with who I am and the choices I've made, to live my life to the fullest.

So I thought about that all night.

And then I woke up, and went to bed and the same thing happened.

I was upset, frustrated, and feeling lonely, and like I was stuck in the past.

I sat up and turned on the TV.

As I was doing so, a commercial for a movie came on the screen.

The girl in the commercial had a piggy face.

She looked like a porcine version of me.

And as I sat there thinking about that, tears started coming down my face.

I remember thinking, "oh my god, I look like a porcine version of a human."

And that's not good.

But it wasn't until that moment, sitting on my couch, crying, that I was finally able to come to terms with it.

It had taken me all those years to accept that this is who I am.

And that the way I am, isn't necessarily who I want to be.

It's taken me a long time to get here, but I am okay.

I am accepting of myself and my life.

And I am doing everything I can to keep myself healthy.

But I am happy with myself.

I'm learning to let go and realize that who I am isn't who I was always meant to be.

It's taken me a long time to accept that and get to this point.

But now, I am ready for life to be lived.

And I'm learning to love my porcine version of a human.

As a child, my greatest fear was that I wouldn't be a good mom.

And it haunted me for years.

As a teenager, I decided I would do anything to be a mom.

I still have the certificate from a school that they made me get, that states my career aspirations, which is "mother."

It was either that or "teacher."

I honestly can't remember.

Anyway, my entire life has been centered around the idea that I'm not a good mother.

As I got older and started my quest to be a teacher, it was the same thing.

I found myself wishing that I could become a teacher just so that I could have a classroom full of kids.

And I've wanted children so badly that I've had a hard time being able to hold them in my arms.

I never wanted kids.

My biggest fear was that I would be a bad mother.

I spent many years feeling like I was doing everything wrong and like there was something wrong with me.

I never knew what it was that I was doing wrong, but I just knew something was wrong and couldn't figure it out.

I didn't want to bring a child into the world if I couldn't make it a happy and healthy one.

A friend of mine once told me that she didn't believe in regrets.

I think that maybe she thinks she made a mistake in telling me this.

I still don't know what she means, or what she meant.

But the point is, I don't think there's a point in regretting anything.

If I've learned anything in my life, it's that.

So I don't think I regret anything.

I have no regrets about who I am or how I live my life.

I didn't realize how much of my fear was coming from this one fear.

It's a fear I think most women share at one point or another.

It's a fear that haunts us and keeps us from taking that leap into motherhood.

Likewise, it's a fear that convinces us that we aren't good mothers and that something is fundamentally wrong with us.

I wasn't able to let go of this fear until recently.

I have accepted the fact that I'm not a mother.

And that's okay.

The most important thing is that I'm a good person.

I've always known that.

I've always cared about other people, and I've always tried to help them.

It's only now that I'm finally realizing it's okay to do that without having a baby to show for it.

I'm still learning to do that.

It's difficult to be okay with who I am.

And I'm still trying to figure out how to love myself.

And that is a process.

I'm not always confident in myself.

I feel like there are moments when I lose myself completely, and it's difficult to find my way back.

But the good news is that I have a wonderful support system, and I have learned that I'm not alone.

I've learned that there are other people like me, and there are a lot of us.

I've learned to take responsibility for myself, and that was never easy for me.

I have always believed that everything happens for a reason and that everything happens for me.

But you can't have anything without you.

And I've started to see this.

I've learned that I need to take responsibility for my actions and the consequences of those actions.

I've learned that I can't always be the one who fixes the problems, but I can try to be the one who helps fix the situation.

I've learned that I need to do the right thing, even when I'm the one who feels horrible about it.

It took me a long time to learn these things, but I'm still learning them.

I learned to forgive the mistakes I made.

I've learned that not everyone will like me.

I've learned that sometimes I don't like myself very much.

I've learned to let go of my anger and forgive myself for the anger I've felt towards others.

And I've learned that I'm loved, no matter what.

For the past three days, I've been trying to get into the Santa swing of things.

It's just an attempt to make the holiday season less sucktastic, but I like to think of it as a promotion of goodwill and a friendly reminder to the fat guy to hurry the hell up.

And if all that works, then I'm happy.

Anyway, you should be watching a new show that airs tonight.

It's called, simply, Rudolph.

And it's great.

It's a make-believe made-up holiday classic.

The show airs only once a year, on December 5th, so you might want to watch it tonight.

The original show ran from 1972 to 1977, but it's had a surprisingly enduring appeal.

I know I loved it as a kid, and I wanted to watch it all the time.

It's funny and colorful, and it makes you want to find your dad and have him hold you tight, and you know what I mean.

I mean... the show's funny.

I have a lot of favorite childhood shows and Rudolph.