What Happened the Last Time You Lost Weight?

This is one of my favorite questions that Jessica Ortner posed in her best-selling book, The Tapping Solution for Weight Loss and Body Confidence, and it’s one that I savored the opportunity to answer in great detail for myself when I first started this coaching journey. Why am I so curious about past attempts to lose weight? Why do I even care what you’ve tried before or what unfolded during that process, aside from the fact that (obviously) “it didn’t work”? Shouldn’t the past be left in the past? I’m glad you asked!

When you commit to answering that same question– honestly, reflectively, and as thoroughly as possible for yourself– a whole world of themes, beliefs, and fears is revealed. We gain meaningful insights into why the diet(s) “didn’t work”, on both conscious and subconscious levels. We discover your unique ideas about “what it takes” to lose weight and to keep it off, as well as the golden nuggets: what you believe about yourself when yet another weight loss attempt fails. Priceless. So:

Here is what I wrote in response to that question. After reading it, I encourage you to take some time to yourself, to grab a soothing hot beverage to sip on, and to journal as much of your own story as you can. Write it down without censoring yourself or worrying about crafting an award-winning essay. This won’t be written for an audience and it certainly won’t be submitted to a panel of grammar judges, so just go ahead: write down what happened the last time you lost weight.

Over the next few blog posts, I will highlight some themes that can be teased out of your answer– food for thought, if you will. I’ll use my own answer as an example on the blog, but if you feel you could benefit from personalized coaching around your specific answer, you’re in luck! I’m offering free sessions around weight loss and body image for a limited time. You can e-mail me and I’ll be happy to set up a private session with you over Skype (you can decide whether you’d like to Skype with video or not).

My answer:

The last time I lost weight, I lost a whole bunch of it (almost 20 pounds) in a relatively short amount of time (just over one month). As is de rigeur for me, I wasn’t following one of the trendy diets (South Beach, Atkins, Paleo, etc.) at all, and I definitely wasn’t worried about counting calories or grams of anything. However, I was undertaking a very regimented “cleanse” type of process– an elimination diet. (You can read about that craziness here.) There was a gigantic list– 7 printed pages, to be exact– of foods that were uniquely “safe”, “neutral”, and “unsafe” for me, which I had obtained through a food sensitivity test. Being the A-student I’ve always been, I had committed to follow those test recommendations to the very letter, and I felt almost excited (thrilled!) to embark on a new culinary challenge. WATCH ME EXCEL AT THIS ELIMINATION DIET! I WILL EMERGE VICTORIOUS AND SLIM!

SEE ME WIN!

A few weeks into the process, yes, I was losing weight, but I felt that I was always in the kitchen, prepping the “right foods” and then doing the dishes afterward. It was a very systematic process, this elimination diet. There was absolutely no room for error, and no one else– not even my dear husband– could be trusted to keep the program unfolding properly. All of the shopping, food prep, meal planning, and raw sauerkraut making fell to me, but no one could have wrestled that control away from me even if they had wanted to or tried. Over my dead (but gloriously slender!) body. I needed to feel in control, even though the responsibilities of overseeing the Elimination Diet overwhelmed me.

Marty and I printed out calendars and stuck them on the kitchen wall– one for each of us. Every morning, we would weigh ourselves and write down our numbers on our respective calendars. I had penciled in ingredients that were being re-introduced or “tested” for each of us on specific days, and if we experienced any suspect symptoms (bloating, gas, heartburn, whatever), we would write those down with diligence, too. We recorded everything. I was losing weight quickly and substantially, and I secretly relished getting to see my numbers shrink while Marty’s stayed relatively the same or crept down slooooooowwwwwly. I win!, I’d crow to myself when I could knock a half-pound off of my weight, but on days when I’d stay the same weight or– gasp– gain a few ounces, I’d be crushed. Why isn’t this working? What am I doing wrong? This can’t be happening to me! It was torture.

This was around the time of the Mayan Prophecy (December 2012), and Marty and I were slated to go back to Calgary in time for the end of the world. (It was important to Marty’s parents that we all be together when the world stopped spinning on its axis, and who were we to argue with them? Or with the Mayans?) Marty’s parents were aware that we were on “a diet” before we arrived, and they fretted as they tried to locate vegan, gluten free, soy free, and sugar free non-perishables to stock for us in the basement, graciously preventing us from starving in case the power went out and civilization halted at the stroke of midnight. On my end, I was fretting about the visit itself. I could sense the disapproval of Marty’s mom from 1100km away, and I hadn’t even started packing for the trip yet. Inconvenient, newfangled, complicated, useless diets. Always failing in the end. Always managing to ruin Christmas dinners in the meantime. 

When we arrived in Calgary, giant knapsack of “safe”, “acceptable” foods in tow (just in case!), I was greeted with outright alarm, as though I was wasting away with a full-blown case of AIDS. You’re so skinny!, Marty’s mom exclaimed in sheer horror, mouth agape. Embarrassed and self-conscious, I tried to deflect her concerns about my figure with mumbles about how the elimination diet had been prescribed for us by a doctor and how it was (sort of) being supervised throughout the process. In the evenings, when I was alone in the bathroom, I would secretly admire my slender thighs in the full-length mirror and whisper a furtive Thank You to the universe for granting me that most coveted of prizes: slimness. Daytime was a different story, though– I was always apologizing for my lithe physique, offering empty quips about candida and sluggish digestion to anyone who approached me with question marks in their voices or eyes, and I basically affirmed on a near-constant basis that my body was only like this for temporary, medical reasons. I felt ashamed and burdensome to be such a culinary nuisance at my in-laws’ house, and I felt mortified well in advance for gaining back the weight– another wacky weight loss scheme, failed. Point: Marty’s mom.

It took me a total of two months to lose that weight and a mere two weeks to gain half of it back again. By then, Marty and I were on a road trip, heading south to the Arizona desert for sunshine, hiking, and relaxation. Before we even hopped into our van for the journey, I had already convinced myself with dismay that maintaining such a strict diet on the road would be difficult-slash-impossible. Lo and behold, I was right. During the two weeks it took us to arrive in Tucson, I didn’t deviate too terribly from my staple veg-and-grain fare. We’d stop in grocery stores and I’d buy hummus and baby carrots. As per usual, I’d slather avocado on everything and eat a small child’s weight in almonds. However, for the amount of weight that piled back onto my body in an alarmingly quick span of time, you’d think that I had switched over to an all-fried, all-the-time diet. Failure had taken hold.

I was mortified by this weight gain, feeling like a miserable, good for nothing elimination dieter and becoming anxious about being the only chubby person enrolled in Holistic Nutrition School (which I had planned to start that September). By the time our vacation was over and we were back in Canada again… I had gained all of the weight I had originally lost on the elimination diet back. A few months after that, too, I had put on even more weight, tipping the scales to the highest they’d ever been for my body, ever. (Note: that’s when I swore off any and all future diets, cleanses, fasts, and other food-based approaches to weight loss. I realized that my mind, my emotions, and my beliefs held way more sway over my body than actual food and calories did, and I couldn’t bear the idea of subjecting myself to any more exercises in willpower, self-control, self-discipline, and winning at diets. No more. Not worth it.)

Anyway. Overall, the last time I lost weight was characterized by:

• A distinct discrepancy between my private admiration of myself and my public apologies and deflections for the way I now looked.
• Not feeling like I could fully step into my slender body, owning it and totally rocking its beauty without shame.
• Definite fear about gaining back the weight– imagining my own failure in advance of it happening and then worrying about having to carry extra weight on my body as a veritable badge of failure. Visible to everyone.
• Signaling to myself and others that being slim was something to defend against– that it wasn’t safe to be slender. I wanted my appearance to be a non-issue amongst my friends and family members, but how could it be so when I was constantly on alert and continually scanning the room for comments or subtle facial expressions that needed to be defended against?
• Feeling the need to justify my weight loss (as well as the pace of my weight loss) to others in quasi-medical terms: “candida”, “gluten intolerance”, “dairy allergies”, “multiple food sensitivities”, and “absorption issues”. Regardless of how true or applicable these terms were/are for me, this only reinforced to my subconscious that ‘x’ degree of weight loss was either impossible at worst or unsafe but temporary at best.
• Comparison, competition, and being overly focused on people’s (real or imagined) reactions to me. I competed with myself (more! faster! better!). I compared my own progress to Marty’s (which makes absolutely no sense, considering I am a woman and he is a very athletic man). I projected all of my insecurities onto other people, believing them to be judging or criticizing me and my body.

Now it’s your turn.

In your journal (or in a new word doc on your computer), ask yourself:

• What happened the last time you lost weight?
• What motivated you to try to lose weight in the first place?
• How did you feel during the process?
• How did others react?
• What sort of program did you follow, and how did it feel adhering to those rules and regulations?
• Did you experience any ‘success’ on your program? If so, what?
• What about ‘failures’? If so, what?
• How long did the process take?
• What felt easy about the process?
• What felt difficult, like an obstacle that needed to be overcome?

Write down as much detail as you can, and once again, don’t worry about the flow or sequence of your story. (My story was edited here to make it more coherent and grammar-tastic, just so you know.) Next time, we’ll dive into some of the themes that can emerge from your answer. These themes might lead you to have lightbulb, ‘a-ha!’ moments on your own, but like I say, if you’d like more personalized support to explore your unique story, just let me know.

Corn Cakes: The Real Way to Win Friends and Influence People

This goes without saying, but I’m going to say it anyway: I am a huge nerd in the kitchen. Like, drastically nerdy. I am delighted by the most trivial of culinary things and experience big, swelling happiness over tiny details that (I’m guessing) most people don’t even notice. (Mason Jars, anyone?) I’m not your typical foodie, though. I don’t pore over glossy food magazines or experiment with complicated new recipes every week. Nah. I’d rather beam over a plate of simple steamed vegetables or marvel at ruby red grains of rice than I would hit up the trendiest new restaurant. Plus, I have a mile-long list of food sensitivities and a picky discerning palate, so it’s not very often that I can be wowed at a restaurant. I’m usually lucky if I can have one item (usually salad!) on any given menu, so Kitchen Nerdiness it is for me.

Exquisite!

Anyway. Why am I telling you this? I just want to remind you what a dork I am before I go on to tell you that THESE CORN CAKES ARE EFFING AMAZING! Sure, I’m totally impressed by these corn cakes and feel like a bit of a celebrity chef every time I make them, but maybe you ought to take that with a grain of (Pink Himalayan) salt. I think they’re cool, and I’m pretty certain my mom thinks they’re cool, too, but maybe you’re the type of person who needs more than a geeky, glowing recommendation for a recipe, especially when corn is concerned. That’s fine. All I’m saying is this: if you want to win friends and influence people at your next potluck or cocktail party, make these corn cakes. You’ll impress the hors d’ouevre police, you’ll win the hearts of your vegan and gluten-sensitive friends, you’ll probably win the “Most Delicious Item” award of the evening, and you’ll do it all while being deceptively delicious and healthy. Who knew corn could do all of this? I did. And now you do, too. Yer welcome.

It doesn’t get any better than this. Mmm… corn cakes!

Corn Cakes For the Masses!

(Recipe adapted from Christina’s original version at Fruit of Adventure here)

You Will Need:

• 4 cups water
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 2 Tbsp coconut oil (or other high quality cooking oil)
• 3/4 cup millet
• 1/4 cup organic polenta (corn grits)
• 1 medium leek, sliced into fine, short pieces
• 1 cup frozen organic corn kernels, thawed
• 2 heaping Tbsp fresh basil leaves, chopped (or 1 generous Tbsp dried basil)

How to Make Them:

1. Melt 1 Tbsp of coconut oil in frying pan and saute leeks over low to medium heat, until tender (about 5 minutes).

2. Meanwhile, in a medium saucepan, bring water to a boil. Add salt, 1 Tbsp coconut oil, and millet when water is boiling.

3. Slowly add polenta to the pot, stirring gently and continuously to avoid clumping.

4. Simmer millet and polenta on medium low heat (uncovered) for about 25 minutes, or until water is absorbed and millet mixture is sticky. Remove from heat.

5. Preheat oven to 350F and line a cookie sheet with parchment paper.

6. Add leeks, corn kernels, and basil leaves to millet mixture and stir well.

7. Use a measuring cup (1/4 cup to 1/3 cup) to form cakes with the millet mixture. (It helps to have a bowl of ice water at the ready to rinse measuring cup in between cakes. The cold temperature will help keep the mixture from sticking to the inside of the cup. Life-saving, really.)

8. Bake corn cakes for 25 minutes, or until they are slightly crisp/golden on the outside.

9. Serve with fresh guacamole* (and raw kraut, if you’re so inclined).

10. Prepare to amaze and astound your friends, dinner guests, work superiors, priest, etc. CORN WORKS WONDERS!

Corn cakes, pre-baking

*****

*… and if you’re wondering how in sam heck to make fresh guacamole, I do it in three minutes like so:

OMGuacamole

You Will Need:

• 1 medium to large ripe avocado, halved and flesh scooped out
• sea salt to taste
• red hot chili pepper flakes to taste
• lemon juice, 1-2 Tbsp (or to taste)
• handful of fresh cilantro leaves, washed and chopped

How To Make It:

1. Add all ingredients to a small bowl and smash with a fork. Done.

That’s it. And now you’ll be so savvy in the kitchen! You’ll wow EVERYONE!

Tiramisu for the Dairy-Free Queen

Oh, dear readers– I love me some Universal Magic! Remember when I first came across Leanne Vogel and her killer website? (If you’re wracking your brain and searching for clues, you might also remember this first encounter as The Guilty Peanut Butter Incident, in which I felt intimidated by Leanne’s ninja-like wizardry in her allergy-friendly kitchen. Yes! I just called Leanne both a ninja and a wizard. No wonder I got suckered into the “I’m Not Worthy!” trap. Never fear, though. I’ve since recovered and reclaimed my cool factor. I’m OK, she’s OK, and it’s all good. Promise!)

Anyway…

It’s been an honor and an absolute thrill to work with Leanne this winter, helping her share The Most Amazing Christmas Cookbook Ever with as vast a swath of the internet as we can manage. (I feel like the Christopher Columbus of the Internet lately– exploring uncharted waters, but now with less scurvy!) Who knew an awkward first website visit would morph into a lasting friendship and an exciting business experience? I feel like I’m in my very own sitcom here, Full House style. Happy endings for all! Thanks, Universe!

Back to the amazing cookbook, though. The e-book is called Christmas Dessert Freedom and features ten holiday classics made tastier, prettier, and more ninja-like than ever before. What’s Leanne’s secret? She’s banished all the dairy, gluten, grains, refined sugars, peanuts, corn, soy, and eggs from the recipes we’ve felt guilty about eating since the Dawn of Time.

Peppermint bark? Check!

Rum balls? They’re in there!

Shortbread cookies? Uh-huh!

Pecan bars? She’s on it!

Leanne has even managed to create a dairy-free, gluten-free, sugar-free version of tiramisu. I kid you not! (That recipe alone is worth the 10 buck cookbook cost. Seriously.)

Since I love a good challenge even more than I love this cookbook, I decided to attempt the Queen Recipe (tiramisu, obviously) to prove a couple of things:

1. Even a disaster-prone chef (like yours truly, ahem- almond milk mayhem! Cough, cough– sauerkraut carnage!) can create these recipes and have them turn out just fine.

2. You don’t need a mile-long list of alien ingredients to make the recipes in this book– even something even as intimidating-sounding as tiramisu.

3. You don’t even need all of the recommended kitchen appliances to make these recipes turn out right. I, for example, don’t have a stand mixer OR electric beaters. So there!

4. The recipes aren’t some half-assed shadows of the original, guilt-laced confections. They will still impress even the most skeptical of tastebuds.

So! Adventures in Tiramisu Making!

The full list of ingredients for the tiramisu includes cashews (I used almonds instead), non-dairy milk, coconut oil, coconut nectar, vanilla extract, lemon juice, apple cider vinegar, coconut milk, coffee, rum (optional but hello! IT’S CHRISTMAS!), cocoa powder, dark chocolate, coconut flour, and maple syrup. (Obviously, if you have an aversion to coconut, this is not the recipe for you. Same goes for people with nut allergies, though the e-book does contain 6 nut-free recipes, FYI.)

The assembly line in action!

Anyway. I started off by making a batch of Leanne’s Maple Shortbread cookies (recipe included in the e-book), and then I chilled some ingredients and mentally prepared to slave away in the kitchen all day. Let down alert: No slaving was necessary. The prep work for the recipe was surprisingly easy (even for me, who has a hard time making ice). You blend some of the ingredients together to make a “cashew cream” layer (almond cream layer in my case– I’m wicked allergic to cashews). You mix some of the other ingredients together to make a sinful “coconut cream” layer, and then you stack everything together in a loaf pan with the shortbread cookies and let it chill overnight. Seriously way less work than I was expecting. And the rewards?

Sheer decadence. And deliciousness. And divinity… and other great words that start with ‘d’.

This is Leanne’s photo, not mine.

I was worried because my can of coconut milk rendered a runnier “cream” than you would expect from the word “cream”. Leanne even had to give me a pep talk while my tiramisu was setting in the fridge, which consisted of the ever-encouraging words, “I hate to say it: but it may not turn out” AND the always-rousing phrase, “it may be a lost cause.” Ha. AND EVEN STILL: my batch turned out just fine. Delicious! Guilt-free! Impressive to my neighbors! Sure, it might not win any presentation awards from the judges on the Food Network, but tummies can’t tell the difference if the recipe still tastes delicious, right? My point exactly.

My tiramisu, collapsed on its side. DON’T LAUGH! It’s no Miss America in the looks department, granted, but hot damn, it’s DELICIOUS!

This cookbook is Leanne’s labor of love and her holiday gift to the world. It’s great for people who have special diets or a mile-long list of food sensitivities, and it’s great for the people who love them, too. It truly feels like the “Get Out of Jail Free” card of Christmas– a way to actually partake in the holiday festivities without feeling gross or guilty afterward. Christmas Dessert Freedom for the win!

Cookbook Particulars

• $10 USD per copy
• 10 revamped recipes of holiday classics (vegan, paleo, gluten-free, all-around miraculous!)
• 35 pages, full color PDF
• Totally effin’ incredible!

As the helper elf to Leanne’s Santa (or something…), I get to share in some holiday abundance for everyone who makes a cookbook purchase through the links in this post. In other words, I’ll get a few bucks if you decide to buy the Christmas Dessert Freedom cookbook based on this review of it. Don’t be fooled by my pathetic-looking tiramisu, either: IT TASTES GREAT. You know I wouldn’t even be involved in this project if it wasn’t totally awesome, let alone pimp it out on this here blog. I promise the cookbook is amazing. I promise you can impress your friends and family by making any/all of the recipes in the book. I promise you can become a Christmas ninja, too.*

*Actual ninja-ness may vary. Also, if you have super grinches for friends, their level of being impressed by your kitchen wizardry might vary, too. Jerks!

Your turn, dear readers: Is guilt a regular part of your typical holiday experience?

What’s your favourite holiday treat?     

Paradigm Shift!

I say, follow your bliss and don’t be afraid, and doors will open where you didn’t know they were going to be.

— Joseph Campbell

The last few weeks have been a wild ride, readers. WILD AND CRAZY EXCITING! As soon as I let it slip that I wanted to pursue schooling in the field of holistic nutrition — not maybe, not perhaps, not ‘when I find the time or money’, but ASAP– doors started flying open for me. Everywhere! Awesome ideas came to me in dreams or during meditation, opportunities to connect with exactly the right people came flying into my inbox, and friends near and far immediately offered me fountains of knowledge, resources, and great advice. Pretty great, right?

Well. Lest you think that I suddenly stumbled into a perfect existence and settled into easy harmony with everything on the planet– Deepak Chopra style– let me set you straight. You see, with so many doors opening all at once, somebody (ahem) might have got a bit excited. And with all those (heavy) doors flapping about madly in the great hallway of life, somebody (cough!) maybe got decked in the face by one or two of them. Opportunity knocked. I answered. And got clocked in the teeth by accident…

It all started when cherished reader Michelle pointed me in the direction of Leanne Vogel, who I’m just going to call “Amazing” from now on. (It’s shorter and more to the point. She’s seriously awesome.) Michelle raved:

“I’ve been reading another blogger for months who’s a holistic nutritionist… She has kickin’ low-allergy recipes (today is a 5-ingredient chocolate pudding made out of NAVY BEANS) and Capital G-orgeous photos of her food. I know you don’t *need* another blog to read, but she might be a good resource along your journey (if you’re not already familiar with her work): http://www.healthfulpursuit.com” 

Clearly, I had to head over to Leanne’s site, Healthful Pursuit, and check out her G-orgeousness for myself. And it was G-orgeous indeed. So G-orgeous, in fact, that I strangely went from feeling like I was on top of the world to anxiously questioning whether I was cool enough for the internet and wondering if I’d always be less cool than Leanne. (Not my proudest revelation, for sure, but there you have it. Hello, insecurity!)

Being watched, being judged

Leanne seemed to be so grounded in herself and collected in her relationship with food. She had a great website, a dedicated following, and countless recipes that turned the ‘woe is me, I have food allergies’ mindset right on its head. Take that, candida! You’re not the boss of me! (I nearly cried* when I tried her Runners Repair bars. *From the deliciousness, obviously.)  And who was I by comparison?

Bland as a boiled potato.

     Too tiny for this world, and way too small for my gigantic pipe dream.

A bright-eyed punk with pedestrian recipes and unfortunate photos. (Thank goodness I deleted my ‘groundbreaking’ recipe for ice, no? Ingredient: Water. Directions: Freeze. Of course, I jest.)

From http://www.foundmagazine.com

The smallest, most insecure shadow of myself suddenly worried that I would spend all this time and money on nutrition school and still not be as awesome as Leanne. Even worse: what if I spent all that time and money on nutrition school and became even less cool than I was already? Coolness regression— heaven forbid!

In my anxiety, I downed half a jar of peanut butter. In, like, 45 minutes. By the spoonful. Without even paying attention.

When I noticed what I had done (and how sick/swollen my belly felt– ya think?), the guilt kicked in. Big time. I felt terrible for eating approximately 100,000 calories of nut butter in one sitting. What kind of person does that, let alone what kind of nutritionist wannabe? I felt even worse, knowing that Kimberly Snyder (my nutritionist idol) disapproves of peanuts and recommends almond butter instead. (And it was salted peanut butter, too– probably with common table salt and not even high-quality sea salt. Ack!!) Soon, I was spiraling deeper and deeper into critical thoughts and all-around chastising. What have I done? Will I ever learn? Bad, wrong, no-good, awful, blah blah blah…

Enter Marty. Thank god!

Marty had been at a fitness class when the Peanut Butter Incident transpired (you know, taking care of his body and loving himself. The irony of his self care did not escape me.) He had left me, super stoked and brimming with positive energy!, and then had come home to a hot mess feeling totally down on herself. The intellectual part of me knew I was being silly and irrational (and that neither Leanne nor her website had anything to do with it), but at the time, my fear of change, putting myself out there, and creating a new life for myself with no guarantees of success threatened to swallow me whole. WHAT IF I FAIL? WAIT A SECOND– I ALREADY FAILED– LOOK AT ALL THE PEANUT BUTTER I ATE!

The words Marty spoke as he cradled me in his arms were simple and delivered with love, and they lifted my spirits not only immensely, but immediately:

Please be kind to yourself.

There will never be another you!

It wasn’t an order or a demand– it was the answer. Holy paradigm shift! My angst simply dissolved when it met with Marty’s words. Snuggled in his loving arms, I felt a flash of realization:

Kindness is the first step.

Who knew? All this time, I’ve been doing things backwards: I always start with my mind (knowledge, information, statistics, a particular program, a list of ‘allowable’ foods, a certain diet, etc.) and then I promise my body and my spirit tenderness when (read: if) I succeed on whatever regime I’ve adopted. On a subconscious level, I’m only offering myself love, respect, and compassion as a reward for a job well done! WTF??

If you can believe it, I’ve repeated this backwards pattern ad nauseum since adolescence with the Wild Rose Cleanse, the Beauty Detox Solution, the ‘avoid gluten and chocolate’ program, the ‘stop eating rolled oats and lemons’ approach, the anti-candida diet, and most recently, with our elimination diet. In each case, I arm myself with important nutrition information (foods to eat, foods to avoid, milestones to achieve, etc., etc.) and impose that information on my body, knowing that if I just try hard enough or follow the rules closely enough, I will succeed. Who cares what my body thinks or how my body reacts? I find an odd comfort in deferring to the experts and take solace in the idea– however crazy it is– that somebody else knows how to make things right for me.

Who is in charge here? (Stained glass by artist Ted DeGrazia)

Here’s the kicker: even though I don’t go into these eating/diet programs consciously thinking that I’m soldiering off to war, that’s technically what’s happening. I am pitting my rational mind against my less-than-perfect body. Kindness isn’t often found in this equation, even though blind hope, optimism, and youthful naivety are. (In other words, I don’t undertake these programs in a willful desire to sabotage myself. I’m convinced in my mind that I am doing these things for the right reasons, but my body feels differently. It feels attacked and ignored.)

Using the awesome power of my mind, I control myself, discipline myself, deny myself, fix myself. And sometimes I do succeed. I lose x amount of pounds, or fit into x size of jeans, or get rid of x pesky condition (skin, digestion, whatever)… but it never lasts for long. Without starting from a foundation of kindness, change is not sustainable! (Dr. Obvious, yes, but I’m a Slow Learner and had never really thought about things that way before.) Without caring for myself and truly loving myself right-freaking-now, no amount of willpower or healthy eating practices are going to mean or matter much, even if I undertake them from a desire to ‘detox’ or ‘clean up my eating habits’ or ‘figure out my food allergies’. I won’t change anything about myself without enlisting everything of myself– my body, my spirit, and my mind.

(The potholder I really wanted but didn’t buy)

Kindness is the first step.

Wow, are you still reading? Kudos to you!

My fall from the top of the world into the deep recesses of my insecurities and back up into the light of a kindness-themed paradigm shift took all of 3 hours. (Yeah. I get around.) During that time, Leanne was still awesome. But so was I. My awareness finally caught on to the crazy obvious notion that it’s all good. Leanne’s amazing-ness in no way precludes or prevents my own. (And seriously– you should try making her recipes. They kick allergy ASS!) Judging myself more harshly than I’d ever judge anyone else makes zero sense. Eating peanut butter isn’t the end of the world. And loving myself is the start of something great!

Note: Even though the paradigm shift happened instantly, I realize that the practice of ‘genuine self love’ might take a little longer, despite the fact that my mind has officially declared myself Immediately and Perfectly Loved. Ha. I have started with 3 small practices– brushing my hair (which I haven’t done daily since I was about 12), oil pulling first thing in the morning, and giving myself mini foot massages every day– and reminding myself while I do those things that I deserve tenderness. So far, it seems to be working… slowly, subtly… and my hair is silky smooth! 🙂    

What about you, readers? How do you pull yourselves up from the depths of insecurity? How do you honour the whole of your being– body, mind, and spirit? What are some of your favourite self-care practices? I’d love to hear from you!