2013 in retrospect: body woes

It's been a few days since I posted about my decision to spend January reflecting on the previous year before I move on with my 2014 resolutions and such. So I started with my 2013 list of favorite books, which was an easy-peasy post (if there's anything I can reflect on, it's books). Other things are less fun to think/write about. Like my body. One of the biggest woes I had in 2013 was a growing animosity for my body and, because it's one of the hardest things for me to talk about, I'd love to get it out of the way and out of my system early in the month.

It's probably better to start this with a general history of this issue in my life. So this post will probably be more of a 2013andbefore reflection, but we'll see where I end up. Thank you for indulging me. 

I should start by saying that I've had body image issues for almost my entire life. I realize that I'm not alone in this. Everyone has at least one thing about their body they'd like to change, right? And I know that it's possible to acknowledge my body's faults while still being comfortable in my own skin––but for me, that's much, much easier said than done. 

To start off, I have this weirdly vivid memory of when I went to visit my friend who was working at a dress shop in the local mall (we were in high school). It was a slow day in the store, so she was picking out dresses for me to try on and we were having a little fashion show. As I was showing off the dresses, she mentioned that she was envious of my curves, because she was so stick straight. I was completely shocked. I could not wrap my head around the fact that someone who was that skinny would ever want to be curvy. I wasn't overweight, but my hips and thighs had always bothered me, and I remember being really confused. I was always envious of her body type––what business did she have being envious of mine? 

I thought that an "ideal" body type existed, and because I did not have this body type, I was unhappy with my body. My body was not good enough; therefore, I was not good enough. The shame I felt for my body colored my whole perception of who I was and what I was worth. As a teenager (and even into the first couple years of my twenties), I held back in so many areas of my life, and I see now that my tendency to hold back was directly linked to my distorted body image. I was an academic underachiever of sorts in high school... okay, I was a straight A student, but I never really pushed myself. I know I could have worked a lot harder than I did. Also, I loved to sing, and had a decent voice, but I never had the confidence to excel vocally. I did audition for a couple musicals in high school, and I made call-backs both times, but when I suddenly had to sing in front of other students who were, in my opinion, beautiful songbirds, I froze. I sang with the intensity and pitch of a dying mouse, and I was stuck in the ensemble playing Random Nurse 15 in South Pacific and Random Cockney Street Woman in My Fair Lady. 

In my early twenties, I made a sort of uneasy truce with my body. I was still not satisfied with my shape, but I started realizing that I could still be a worthwhile, excellent person without being the perfect size (this is not rocket science, folks, but believe me, it can be a hard thing to accept). I took better care of my body and was, overall, more happy with myself. I went on an LDS mission and learned that not only was I capable of doing really hard things, I actually enjoyed it. I started having health problems on my mission, but thankfully was able to serve a full 18 months, and I came home with a determination to take better care of my body. Also, when I came home I realized the enormous amount of self confidence that goes along with academic achievement, so I started pushing myself in school. Things were going better. 

Aaaand then this little thing called grad school came along. It was, thus far, the pinnacle of my academic achievement, and I am so proud of what I achieved in my master's program. It was one of the best and hardest things I have ever accomplished. But grad school was not great on my body. That is, I was not kind to my body while I was in grad school. I basically threw healthy eating and exercising to the wind and put 100% of myself into my program. Winter 2013 (January to April) was the last semester of my program. I was teaching classes, taking classes, working on my thesis, and really loving it. 

I know that my body had been screaming TAKE A BREAK AND TAKE CARE OF ME for a while, but I was too busy and going too fast to notice or care. All of the sudden, I went from going 100 miles an hour to standing still, and my lack of caring for my body caught up to me. I gained weight, which I hated, but what was worse was the depression that came along with it. I knew I had to start taking better care of myself, and I really tried, but my body seemed determine to punish me for my negligence by being sluggish and refusing to lose weight. As a result, I wallowed and cried and locked myself in my room with books and Netflix streaming. 

When I did make attempts at interacting socially with others, it was really really hard. A few friends from grad school and I decided to spend the weekend in Capitol Reef, and I was so excited to see everyone, but dreading it at the same time. I actually cried when I left my house, partially because I was stressed, and partially because I felt pathetic for still not having a job, and partially being I so wanted to be 30 pounds lighter than I was. When I actually got there, I felt a whole lot better, and I had such a lovely time being around my kind, supportive friends, but I still struggled, feeling distant and cut off. I realized that part of my problem was that I was internalizing my troubles instead of seeking help from others, but I just couldn't get myself to say anything. I couldn't vocalize what I was feeling. 

So here I am, more than six months after graduating, still in the same body slump. Body image issues on top of general depression on top of looking for a job and deciding what in the world I want to do with my life = one herculean rut. I have a feeling that I'll come back to this rut in later posts, because I want to think a little more about depression and about what I want to do with my life, but for now, I want to wrap up by going back to where I started (somewhat).

I know "they say" you should love your body no matter what size or shape you are, but to be perfectly honest, I'm afraid that the happier I am with my body, the less I will be motivated to be healthier and lose weight. I know that's a harmful mindset, but sometimes you know things and still don't believe them. Isn't that the worst? When someone wise tells you something wise and all you can say is "I know, I know," but that really doesn't change anything? All I can say is knowing something is different than believing it, and just because I know I am a worthwhile, excellent person, doesn't mean I always believe it. 

As I read through this post, I find it unimaginable that I'm still fighting the same battle I fought back when my friend told me she was envious of my curves. Why is this still a problem? 

My mind keeps coming back to part of the Sylvia Plath quote I have posted on my blog: "The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt." I believe that the impulse to create things is something innately human––and creativity extends much farther than just the arts. We all have the ability to create moments (perfect moments, even), and if what Plath says is true, self-doubt is what hinders our creativity the most. There are enough hard things in life, why make it harder for ourselves? If I could make peace with my body instead of constantly tearing myself down, how much more could I accomplish? 

How much more could I create? 

new ideas, new goals

I'm encouraged to know that despite all the work I did in grad school, I still have the desire to write things. Here are some essay ideas I've been throwing around in my head:

1. Diving horses: when I was a young one, I saw a delightfully cheesy movie called Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken, which is about a runaway teen who gets into diving horses. Interesting concept, rendered more interesting by the fact that diving horses WAS A REAL THING. Oh yes. Performers would ride a horse to the top of a tall platform (as high as 60 feet), and they would dive into a pool of water. Sound intriguing, and dangerous to the health of both horse and rider. The act was popular in Buffalo Bill-type shows. A few years ago some people wanted to reinvent it, but PETA got involved. The whole thing would make a marvelous essay, and I intend to write it.

2. Book buying: I've actually had this one marinating for a year or so. I'm interested by the of owning books as well as reading them––I have multiple copies of my favorite books, and I'm completely seduced by beautiful book covers. This essay would dive into my habit (obsession?) of book buying, and hopefully make some sort of complaint about ebooks and such. Not that I'm completely opposed to ebooks, but I do have qualms.

3. London nostalgia: I've been craving my favorite city lately. I'm not as traveled as I would love to be, but I don't see any places dethroning this one anytime soon. I may write about St. Paul's (that gorgeous, glorious building), or Borough Market, or even Jack the Ripper. I also need to write more about Charles and Mary Lamb.


Also, I wanted to record a few goals that I've been trying to set for myself lately. School has robbed me of a lot of good habits and other things I had previously established, so I'm hoping to return to some sort of normalcy. I realized that I've written about goals recently, and probably the same goals, so I don't want to be redundant, but I'm rewriting them for my benefit. Indulge me one more time:

1. SLEEP. And not just sleep, but at appropriate hours. I'm writing this blog post at 4:45am, which is completely ridiculous, but it demonstrates my inability to go to bed at night. I'd like to go to bed around midnight and have around 8 hours of sleep. This is going to be a tough one.

2. Take care of my body. This is big. I want to exercise (4-5 days a week) and eat healthier foods (less sugar). I suppose I could include sleep here as well. I don't want to think about health in terms of pounds or clothing size, but I do want to measure it according to how I feel. I want to regain some of the confidence I've lost the past couple of years.

3. Less media: In school, I tried desperately to find distractions, mindnumbing things to give my brain a break after writing and reading and grading and lesson planning. This led to a lot of TV watching and internet surfing. Don't get me wrong––I'm still going to be faithful to Doctor Who, Downton, Sherlock, and a couple others, but I want to make any TV time I take be (what I consider to be) worth it. And as far as internet goes, I don't get sucked into Facebook or Pinterest much, but I have been wasting so much time on Buzzfeed. It's a black hole, a delightful black hole, so don't get sucked in, people. Approach with caution.

4. Spirituality: Attend temple regularly, have more meaningful scripture study and prayer, and try not to complain about boring Relief Society or Sunday School meetings.


Slow and steady, folks. At some point I have to decide what I want to do with the rest of my life, but that's for another post.

*deep sigh of relief* and folk music

I must say, it feels nice to have passed my thesis defense.

I worried about it for so long (perhaps worried too much), but it ended up being grand. In the middle of my defense, I had a very clear realization: I was enjoying it. And then I remembered that I'm in a master's program because I love writing and I love studying writing. I love reading good books and learning from my brilliant professors and fellow students (who are also brilliant). So it wasn't that strange that I enjoyed my defense. I'm always worried because sometimes I have a hard time articulating my thoughts, but I must have made at least a small measure of sense, and for that I was grateful. 

Now if I can take another deep breath, I'll make it through the rest of my revisions and grading and be done with this semester. Which will be great. Except...

I'm actually really sad that this chapter of my life is coming to a close. Maybe it's just that I don't know what in the world I'm going to do next, or maybe it's because I'm sad to say goodbye to so many wonderful people that I'm blessed to see almost every day. I'm thankful for writing workshops and lunch dates having so many people around who sympathize with my plight because they are going through the same exact thing. That camaraderie is so difficult to find. So for all of those reasons, it will be hard to say goodbye when I leave Provo.

I guess I'm not leaving just yet, so I shouldn't get too choked up here. 

And now that I've waxed (super) cheesy, I'll end by saying that I've rediscovered my love of folk music/bluegrass. Here are a few samples from The Wailin' Jennys: 

easter/home

         

i love magical things, like a blooming forsythia plant and

hiding easter eggs in the backyard for nephews and a niece. 

such spring things! 

also, i love to be home for the weekend.

where the weather is a little warmer, and there are kids and sisters and 

parents and kitties around to remind me that there is life

    outside of grad school.

I

 superhero ashton (we made him work for his eggs!)

 gavs

 millie lee

will 

also, here's merlin enjoying the watermelon

he threw it up an hour later -_-

i love him anyway

goals and failures and choosing a favorite color

well, i hate to start out by saying that i've mostly failed in my goals the last couple of weeks, but alas, it is true. i guess it depends on your definition of failure, though––after all, i am blogging, and i have written a few things (not every day, unfortunately), but i've just not been as consistent as i want to be. and i continue to waver in the attention i pay to spirituality. but, i realize that failure is sometimes the first step in success, as they say, so i'm hoping that this coming week will be better in a few different ways.

the past couple of weeks have been heinous. i've had some sort of cloud hanging over my head, and in spite of the fact that i'm working hard i feel like i'm getting nothing done. i was rejected for an internship i was hoping to get, spent an entire saturday up to my neck in literary theory, and overall i feel like i'm barely treading water. i've been informed that the first semester of the second year of grad school is particularly stressful, so i'm hoping and praying that i'll live through the semester, with some energy to reach my goals.

there is one thing i am grateful for, however: good people. i am blessed with a circle of good people around me––good friends––who continue to be supportive and encouraging. friends and family have been the one to keep be on board these last couple of weeks. i send my love to them!

there is one other thing that i'm grateful for: today. i've always been selfish with my sundays, mostly refusing to do schoolwork or anything unpleasant because i need at least one day to be free of what i deal with the other six days. (this makes it sound like i dread the things i do during the week, which isn't true. i do let the stress get to me, though, and it becomes harder to be motivated about what i do. i guess that's why i need sundays: to keep me going throughout the rest of the week.) after church today, my friend paige and i went to utah lake to sit in the warm weather (unusually warm for mid-october, which is also a blessing), and it was so relaxing that i felt at least partially renewed. the sun was bright, and the sunshine made the ducks' feathers glow unpredictably bright, and the mountains were so colorful from the fall colors. it was delightful. i love the colors of fall. even though fall signals the impending cold, i still love it because everything is so bright before getting bleak during the winter. i have some lovely pictures, and i'll post them next time.

thinking of color made me think of a small dilemma i've been having the last several years. it's nothing too traumatic, but it still makes me feel a little uneasy. the dilemma is this: i don't know what my favorite color is. i have pet colors, and i love colors in general, but it seems like the answer to the question what is your favorite color? is part of a person's identity, and not knowing what color is my favorite is like missing a piece of myself. a little overdramatic? maybe. probably. but i'm still thinking about it.

for a long time, red was my favorite color. i don't know why, but red was it. did it have something to do with ruby red slippers? maybe. did it have something to do with strawberries and raspberries, which are two of my favorite fruits? maybe. i really don't know, and i have to wonder if red was just the first color that popped into my mind when someone asked me what my favorite color was. does that mean it was really my favorite color? not necessarily. it probably just meant that i had seen a red car that i really liked earlier that day, or that or that i saw a picture of a celebrity with bright red lipstick i admired, or something like that. whatever the reason, it stuck for a while. i owned a red laptop until it bit the dust; i painted a red accent wall in my room; i gravitated towards red clothing; i loved red flowers. eventually, though, i grew out of red. i realized that i was telling people that my favorite color was red just because it was what i had told people for years.

and then i had an color identity crisis. a lot of people really identify with a certain color more than any other color, and all of the sudden i didn't know my color. did that mean i didn't really know myself? i have always loved colors, but all of the sudden, to choose one color out of the whole spectrum that was my favorite gave me mild mental anxiety.

i tried on blue for a while. when i was a missionary, i had a companion who loved blue––i mean really loved blue. 90% of her clothing was blue, down to bright blue ballet flats that she reserved for important meetings. i realized then that i also had a lot of blue clothing. did that mean that blue was it? i do love the nuances of blue––the color of the horizon at twilight, the color of the clear ocean, the color of sapphires, the color of a turquoise stone. blue is soothing and calming where red was bold and powerful. but something about blue just didn't sit quite right with me. i mean, there's nothing wrong with blue––i just couldn't ever say it was my favorite.

i also tried yellow out. cheery yellow, uplifting yellow. not too bright of a yellow, though––more like milky yellow than sun-at-high-noon yellow. yellow is a good color. i love yellow.

but it's not my favorite.

lately, i have gravitated towards green. i now have a green laptop case and keyboard cover. i love the color of grass in the summer and the color of granny smith apples. i love the color of avocado (the inside, not the outside), and i love the color of the english countryside and scottish highlands. green is earthy, goes well with brown (which i also enjoy) and, when paired with red, is the color of christmas (which is my favorite holiday––no indecision there). but is green really my favorite? it's the color of the year, but i don't know how long my infatuation will last.

after thinking about it, i am inclined to believe that loving color in general rather than one specific color might be a good thing, and might indicate a willingness to be adaptable and try new things. then again, one can still have a favorite color whilst loving color in general. there's probably not a solution to this dilemma, but i have to explore it anyway.

what is your favorite color? has it always been your favorite?

music and goals

this was one of those weeks. you know, what of those weeks––so much to do, too little sleep, too little motivation. sometimes i have superweeks when i get everything done with room for sherlock and cupcakes, but this past week, i tried to fit everything in and it just didn't work. sleep is always the first to go, even though i know that when i get enough sleep i have more motivation AND energy. when will i learn? 

i have decided a few things lately, though. made a few goals. and here they are:

1. blog. if you'll take a look at the dates of my blog posts, you'll notice the huge gap between posts, especially when i started school. this may just seem like something else to put on my to-do list, but i really do enjoy blogging. it gives me an outlet, so instead of wasting time on facebook, i'm actually writing things. and that goes along with my next goal:

2. write things every day. "things" is intentionally vague, but i've realized lately that if i'm at all serious about this writing thing, it's got to be consistant. if there's anything i've learned in my grad program so far, it's that writing is hard, and if i'm going to ever be successful, i'll have to work my tail off. lately i've  loved listening to and reading writer interviews, because i like to hear what other writers have done to be successful. one of the common threads, of course, is daily writing. it makes perfect sense, but it's one of those things that is difficult even though it's common sense. so i'm going to write at least something every day. 

3. sleep at night. i have to be specific with this one, because i tend to stay up until the wee hours of the morning and plan on taking a nap the next day to make up for lost sleep. i always end up feeling discombobulated, even though i like taking naps. i need to sleep at night, and work during the day. this isn't a novel idea, so i ask myself once again, why is it so darn hard? 

4. don't forget my spiritual self. i'm always frustrated at how quickly scripture study and prayer and temple attendance slips when i'm in school. scripture study becomes scripture skimming, prayer becomes a list instead of a conversation, and the temple becomes a distant friend. but recognition is the first step in improvement! 

there are, of course, many more goals i could set, like exercise and healthy eating, but i'm going to try on focus on a few at a time. and i hope that because i'm recording these goals i'll be more likely to keep them. that's how goals work, right? in theory, i suppose. 

meanwhile, i wanted to share a few songs that i've been a little obsessed with lately. on the soundtrack to my life, these have been on repeat:

her morning elegance, by oren lavie (this is such a fantastic music video, too)

bang bang (my baby shot me down), nancy sinatra (in this clip, it accompanies a dance that is equally fantastic)

splendor in the grass, pink martini

transitions and whims

I have pondered the difference between blogging and journal writing as of late, especially because I all but quit writing in my journal a few years ago, but I've had a regular blog since 2006. I imagine it'd be easy to keep a blog running forever, because unlike a journal, you will never run out of pages or room to write. However, after having the same blog for six years, I've been meaning to start a new blog. There's no practical reason to start a new blog, like running out of pages in a journal, but I do feel a sort of finished feeling, like my life has been in some sort of transition lately, and the transitionary period calls for a new blog.

I never expected the transition between undergrad and grad student to be a big transition, but my first year of grad school taught me otherwise. I don't know that I can really explain it. In my first year of grad school, I studied more and was more invested than I ever was as an undergraduate, and it was really really hard, and at the same time it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do, something that I loved to do, which made all of the late nights (early mornings) and writing and grading and falling asleep on the couch worth it. And I feel somehow different after the first year, mostly because I've realized how vital this transition is to my future. Not to be overdramatic, but I think it's changed my life in ways I might not completely understand just yet.

And for now, it has led me back to England for the summer. It seems like many of my big decisions in life have happened because of England. I decided to apply for my master's program when I was in England two years ago, and during my first  year of grad school I decided I'd go back. Both decisions seemed to have been made on a whim (especially this time), even to the point where I've gone to the very last minute without thinking about all the "important" details (like money, for example) because all I knew was that I was going to England, and hoped everything would work from there. So maybe that's why I titled my blog "on a whim and a fancy": because sometimes I feel like some of the best, most fulfilling and exciting experiences in my life have been made and done on a whim and a fancy. Which is probably not wise, as the very small practical part of my brain says.

But I'm very skilled at suppressing practicality. So here I am, in England once again, which is the perfect place to finally start a new blog.

So, welcome! Come again soon.