Home Uncategorized
Category

Uncategorized

Before I get to today’s post—-IF YOU’RE NEW HERE— start at the beginning otherwise you’ll be like, huh? Click my #MagicOfVulnerability Challenge so you know what’s up.

—and if you’d like to share a #MagicOfVulnerability yourself, I’d love that! Tag me @Weslie_ , so I don’t miss a thing.

Here we are at day 30. FINALLLLLLY.

For 30 days straight I have shared some truths and thoughts about myself that I felt vulnerable sharing.

The whole process has felt a little like unleashing these imaginary monsters that have been living inside of mind out of my body, then placing them neatly here for you all to take however as you please.

The funny thing is that these shameful things (both little and big) in my life no longer bring me negative emotions like they used to before just 30 days ago. The sharing part of vulnerability has done this to them.

This is how vulnerability really is magic. When I came up with the hashtag, #MagicOfVulnerabitlty I thought it was cute, and somewhat accurate—I knew even before I started this that mostly all good things would come out of being vulnerable, but the “MAGIC” part has really made itself known to me. Ive experienced it.  Vulnerability has the ability to shrink the scary monsters you have built up in your head…And not only does it shrink them, but it builds a bridge to your friends, and family member, and strangers alike so that if/when those scary monster start to grow back up like a pesky weed, then you now have an army of readied soldiers who understand the war you’ve previously fought, and can better help you to beat those weedy monsters back into small, after-thoughts.

This means that choosing to be vulnerable also means you’re no longer choosing to be so alone.

And the other thing about vulnerability that I didn’t know before was that what starts out as scary and nerve wracking to share, actually morphs into a self confidence and acceptance that I don’t know how to get any other way. Its like the things I was mortified for people to know about just a month a ago are now some of the most confident and proud aspects of my life today. Like, I got through that—it was hard but I’m a better me because of it.

There is something so awesome that comes when you decide to own your story completely. It’s powerful. Theres nothing to hide anymore, or gloss over, and the energy that this frees up is amazing! I also feel more self love, and have an all around feeling of acceptance over my past now.

So, Ive learned countless things about myself,  but I’ve learned so much more by reading all the emails you guys have sent to me. I haven’t gotten through even half yet, but even at half way there I feel that the writers of those emails have given me an enormous gift.

The writers have let me in…They’ve trusted me wholeheartedly.  They’ve let me see a sneak peek into their life, and not the instagram photo of their life….but their junk drawer part of life.

…and I’ve discovered that the junk drawers are where the actual treasures lie.

The junk drawers are filled with odds and ends.  It’s the half-done projects. There are untied bows and broken pencils mixed in with hot glue guns and old receipts, with a  few old chocolates and wrappers here and there. …A total shameful mess most of the time, but once you start pulling things out item by item,  you’ll realize that each item is meaningful. Each items holds a story. The junk drawers in women’s lives now signify their strength to me.  They signify the’ TRY’. Junk drawers are the tired moms who re-read that story over and over again with a smile on their face–even though they’re fake smiled out for the day.

Its not enjoyable all the time—but we keep showing up. That’s our junk drawer. 

Through these emails I’ve learned that you truly never-NOT EVER- know what a person may  be going through, so I beg of you all to error on the side of caution. Be careful with your words…

This leads me to the topic of judgment.

Judgement is the root of all things horrible—It leads to isolation, fear, anxiety, hatred, and a type of coldness that is hard to warm up. I know this is true for a fact now. A FACT, you guys.

I cannot go into the details of what exactly I’ve come to know about judgment without telling stories that are not mine to tell, but here is something I want you all of you to take away from this little experiment with vulnerability.

It is this:

There is no right way to live, and there is no wrong way to live, there is only YOUR WAY to live.

The shame and judgement that follows the should have’s and could have’s said by some of the most loving and well meaning people in our lives is tremendous! And our children pick up on us shaming the people around us. They hear our judgments of the neighbor and their crazy kids, or even the people on TV, and then they internalize it those judgements. That internalization turns into fear of being judged by the ones we love most—our moms and dads, closest friends, partners—then walls start to be built up, secrets start storing.

..and if you’re choosing to live out of love—then that probably means its right for you. If your choosing to live out of fear and shame….then thats usually not going to lead you to reaching your highest potential in this life time.

We’ve subconsciously created a culture where there is so much fear built up around what other people may think or say about us, that were not reaching our highest potential because of it.

The amount of emails I’ve received about adults being  shamed by their loved ones unknowing has made me sick and grateful to learn from all at once. It has showed me the power that we have over our children even into adulthood, and our well meaning you should do this! you should do that! you cant do that! carries a must larger consequences  than what we’re aware of in the moment when it’s said out of fear.

So, Ill say it again.

There is no right way to live,  and no wrong way to live, there is only YOUR way to live. And if you have found what happens to work for you, then that is great! But you have to remember that your way is not everyones way. This ‘everyone’ includes your kids—your family members—which may be a hard pill to swallow for some.

—I also have to say this, and they’re not my words—they’re Glennon Doyle Melton’s words…but I heard her say this on Oprah’s ‘Super Soul Sunday,’ and it has stuck with me so strongly over the last year. I have said it countless times to women now in the project, but its this:

If you have to choose between your marriage, or your soul…choose your soul.

CHOOSE YOUR SOUL! Staying in an emotionally and/or physically abusive relationship  (this includes toxic friendships and  family relationships) is not choosing your soul.

I understand that not all of our stuff is ours to start….I understand that are many instances where there are true victims out there that have been put in these hard friendships without their consent. Everyone has a story of how and why they’re at where they’re at, but I want to remind you that you can always make a choice today to better your future tomorrow.

They can be little baby steps to start…steps so small you cant even see the progress in the beginning. But after a year—you”ll see the progress. Then things start picking up….It’s the snowball effect where progress starts to double up once you’ve hit that tipping point.

The last point I want to touch on is this:

The love and companionship you may be longing for—I want to remind you that it’s an arms reach away from you right this moment. Its literally right there waiting for you…all you have to do is reach out. Talk to someone, call a friend, make an appointment with a therapist–let someone, ANYONE in. ( you DO NOT have to spill your guts on the internet like me, I’m actually straight up bonkers—like Madhatter status for doing this.)

But for years I kept waiting for life to make my situation better. I wanted my kids and husband, family and friends to heal my broken parts. I learned no one can do that for you—but YOU.

It starts with you!

I had to reach out. I had to make the first move. I had to become scary vulnerable and trust that people wouldn’t hate me or judge me for my life happenings to feel better.

—-and I really do feel better.

It’s been such an amazing process–I want to thank anyone whose stuck around for the whole thing, and especially to all of the people who have written in to me either by email,  or on social media. I have felt so much love throughout this journey, and it truly has made me more at ease, and happier self.

You guys are so amazing! I don’t know where this will all go from here, but it has surely ignited a desire within myself to continue to stay connected with you all. I feel like my rusty writing fingers have started to remember what its like to write each day, and the habit is starting to be formed yet again. Which means I don’t really want to stop now. Slow down, did you say?? YES! Definitely slow down….This posting every single day for 30 days straight was so much to jump into after 3 years of radio silence–so, I feel happy to slow down a bit.

But, I’d love to hear what it is you guys would like to hear from me moving forward. I’ll always stick to my type of main course—which is stuff like this.  Just mostly life sharing, motherhood stuff,  but I’m so out of the game that I’m truly curious to hear what else you guys think would be interesting coming from me. I would love and appreciate if you would comment some ideas!

_and thanks again for embracing me back with open arms, guys…It means more than you know!

I love you all a crazy amount.

-W.

 

June 20, 2017 8 comments
20 Facebook Twitter Google + Pinterest

It’s Father’s Day- so today I get to talk about my lovely husband, Bronson.

Just like the things he think you need to know about in my last post–here is a few things I think you need to know about him.

I feel the need to tell you all that he wakes up every single morning and gets our daughters ready for school.

He brushes their hair, does his go-to ponytails then walks them out the door to school.

During this whole time I am sleeping/or pretending to sleep in bed….I could easily do it, but he does-so, I don’t.

On the way to school he talks to all the other school moms dropping off their kids, and has legit mom friends. His differs from me greatly in this area. When I pick up the kids in the afternoon I am in and out, as fast as lightning, But Bronson takes this time to say hello to everyone, and socialize.

PS…all the mom’s looooove him.

During his lunch breaks he facetimes not me, but Ozzy.

He wants to talk to him about the day so far and get Ozzy to look at funny google images he’s found on line and hear Ozzy’s reaction.

On weekends he wakes up early and brings home donuts for the kids, and coffee to me in bed without fail. He has not missed a weekend.

Bronson’s has never cooked a meal in his life.

I’m not exaggerating.

He would rather go hungry than cook something up, and I will never-NOT EVER- understand this.

His favorite thing to do is surf-he calls it church. Riding his motorcycle has a similar effect.

Bronson does this thing where he starts cleaning a messy room by vacuuming it first…and I’m like…noooooo ! That is supposed to last! The cherry on top! Don’t vacuum first! But it’s been going on ten years and he just can’t seem to help himself.

Death by vacuum.

He has watched teen mom and the kardashians with me for 11 years straight. We have, quite literally, not missed one episode. We hate but, loveeee it too much to stop. I mean, we’ve ‘known’ some of these guys longer than we’ve known Zuri—so it’s safe to say we’re lifers.

And as I’m telling this in the car ride home from the beach I just looked over to see him holding his phone up uncomfortably to shade the bright sun from hitting ozzys eyes in the back seat.

And this, guys…this is who he is.  There are a million great and amazing things about him–but this dad part of him is theeee best part.

We’re so lucky to have him!

June 19, 2017 0 comment
10 Facebook Twitter Google + Pinterest

AHA vulnerability moment of my day today….

One of the only things I hate more than anything in the world is overly judgmental people.
 Judgmental people and sausage…just, eww.  Both are seriously gross to me.
But I realized today that me hating on judgmental people’s judgments is me actively judging them….becoming judgmental myself.
Whoaaaa, right?
Whoa.
June 14, 2017 2 comments
3 Facebook Twitter Google + Pinterest

For the last 3ish years I have been somewhat complaining to Bronson about not being able to find a stable community. We move around too much, or something, but regardless of why, he would tell me that I would have to put myself out there if I wanted to find a sense of community.  Like instead of me waiting around for a people to find me, I needed to find them. So, I tried things out.

Am I a yoga type of tribe? A mommy group groupie? A surfer club member? A gym team-mate type of person?  

I would dip my toes in these sorts of different communities, kinda testing out the waters,  but I never fully immersed myself into any of them. I just couldn’t pigeon hole myself into one category and stick to to it.  Plus, I felt like I would have a million excuses of why not to be consistent with any of these different things.  Most things felt entirely impossible at the moment with kids schedules, having a breastfeeding baby, having a napping baby, house stuff, food stuff, never having babysitters…that list could go on and on. There was always more than enough reasons to busy myself out of any and everything social.

So I gave up on the dream and figured this is simply my season of life right now.

When the kids get older I can better find my sense of community. 

But, here’s what I’ve learned in the last 22 days:

I was wrong for waiting around for a community to find me, and I was wrong for thinking I could just simply jump into an already existing one later on down the road. For me, I had to create my own wherever I was in the moment.

And my community turns out to be an unnamed  mix of young and old people alike. There are parents and non parents, and wild child’s galore, next to straight-lace, typeA personalities.

It’s you. –My un-named, melting pot sense of community.

Since starting this project just 3 short weeks ago I have met and made more friends than ever before in my life. Every week someone new and awesome just pops up.

Just this past weekend my new friends Indy, from INDY BLUE, and her friends Tristen and Lexie came out to California for a previously scheduled work event, but since Indy decided to participate in my Vulnerability challenge a few weeks ago–we started corresponding. I found her blog through the #MagicOfVulnerability hashtag and quickly realized we were kindred souls, which turns out, she already knew.

She threw out the fact that she would be in town, and maybe we could meet up and film a little video just for fun, or something. I said yes without hesitation.

Last month I would have surely found a reason to say no, but this month I said yes.

This is Indy and Tristen–almost a decade younger than us-but age ain’t nothin but a number, yo. 


The trio knocked on our door at 9:30 pm with flowers in hand….We stayed up until well after midnight talking and talking—There were no limits to our conversations, and it was if we had all known each other for years. It was SO awesome!

The next morning around 6-7am Ozzy came into our bed and I was appeasing him with my iPhone trying to catch some more zzz’s, when suddenly Indy came in and swooped him up. She said she would hang out with him while I slept.

Before I knew it it was 10:30—and I haven’t slept in until 10:30 in years, guys!….YEARS! I walked out into the front where Tristen, Lexie and Indy (plus Ozzy) were wearing super hero capes and masks. They had fed Ozzy, changed his diaper, and played alllll morning long with him.

&& If you ask Ozzy today who his best friends are he says his “new 3 friends” meaning Lexie, Indy and Tristen.


Haha.

I’m telling you this because I want to show you thats its possible…I’m proof. If you’re feeling a bit stuck in life like I was—then I know what that feels like, but I also know there’s a little cracked door somewhere in your day-to day life right now—all you gotta do is walk through it.

If I wouldn’t have decided to start showing up unapologetically and sharing my life with you all—then I wouldn’t have met our 3 new besties. I wouldn’t have met Alex, from Munchin’ with Moguls, or what feels like a million other amazing women, either. I wouldn’t have this sense of fulfillment and community like I do now If i didn’t take that first, scary step into coming back.

Since starting this challenge my already existing relationships have gotten so much stronger and more in-depth, and my new relationships get to that same level so much quicker now.

It’s exactly what I needed all along, and all I had to do was start.

Grow a pair of cojones, ya know?

Not care about what people think.

Just do you—unapologetically, and the right people for you will see it, then be drawn in.

 

June 12, 2017 2 comments
8 Facebook Twitter Google + Pinterest

My favorite food is Taco Bell. This is oddly scary to admit publicly. 

For Real.

Over Mothers Day weekend Bronson and the kids took me down to San Diego where we stayed at a nice hotel, swam, and explored the city for two days.

One day–on actual Mother’s day–time got away from us and we realized we were starving with not a lot of food options around. We went out only to quickly realize it was a mistake not to make pre planned dinner reservations.

Everywhere was at full capacity with a 2 hour+ wait time, so, I took this as my opportunity to suggest my favorite food ever…Taco Bell.

Hey guys–its late, everywhere is packed….Let’s just find a Taco Bell.…You know, all nonchalantly.

 I didn’t want to be  too eager to tip anyone off that I’m actually jonesing for my favorite fast food everrrr, and that it would be the best mothers day dinner to date. But Bronson replied semi-disgusted, and said something like he wouldn’t take me out to Taco Bell for Mother’s Day dinner-THAT’S RIDICULOUS! Then Zuri chimed in and said something simliar, too—but really I know it’s really because she’s so over eating bean and cheese burritos-–her words, not mine, so,  I acted like, Ya! I deserve more than Taco Bell on Mother’s Day! Let’s find something new!

But truth be told—-and my vulnerability for the day…I was super sad about it. 

We found this place called, Crack Chicken (which turns out is AHHHHMAZING) and as we were standing in line to order our food I was throwing a major pity party for myself—I just wanted Taco Bell.

It’s cheap, and always delivers..I know what I like there, I know what to expect, and love stocking up on all those sauce packets for the house…reading the  backs of those sauce packets–All of it–I JUST LOVE ALL OF IT! When I’m happy, sad, lonely, mad and in both celebrations and mournings–its my go to.

Freaking Taco Bell, you guys.

And ya, I know it’s totally unhealthy and the meat isn’t even real meat, but guess what?  I DON’T EVEN CARE! When I was little and people asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up I said three things.

  1. Be a marine biologist so I could work at SeaWorld and swim with Shamu (real glad this one didn’t pan out…)
  2. Be a mom
  3. Be a Taco Bell cashier girl

So bascially, it’s who I am.  I’ve never fully expressed my undying love for a bean and cheese burrito and a crunch wrap supreme to anyone until now, but now seems like the perfect time.  And if you still love something the same way you  loved it since you were 5ish years old-then it’s a part of what makes you who you are. Agree? I think we all have to agree this one.

So, now you know!

June 11, 2017 6 comments
12 Facebook Twitter Google + Pinterest

Before I get to today’s post—-IF YOU’RE NEW HERE— start at the beginning otherwise you’ll be like, huh? Go to my #MagicOfVulnerability Challenge so you know what’s up.

—and if you’d like to share a #MagicOfVulnerability yourself, I’d love that! Tag me @Weslie_ , so I don’t miss a thing.

So a few days ago I got an email that was politely concerned about the things I’ve chosen to share about mine and Bronson’s  story due to the fact that one day my kids might read it.

…Well, I can assure you all, my kids WILL read it.

This brought up feelings in me that I haven’t felt in years….Not sad, or defensive, or any negative feelings, really—They were more like nostalgic feelings–familiar feelings. It was like, “ohhhh ya…I remember this.” So I thought I’d write about it for today’s and yesterday’s vulnerability post.

HERE WE GO!

Because I was able to scan a room energetically from the early ages of childhood and on–I could always sense what people wanted form me.

…And being the people pleaser that I am-I would usually give people what thought they wanted from me.

But, I never felt these social pressures to people please more so than when I became a mother.

It seemed like whoever I would run into (all lovely, and well meaning people) would give me a speech about the home that I needed to create for our children–their equation for happiness.

And sometimes as these conversations would get deeper, I remember being asked in a more lowered, and hushed voice about how (if at all) I was going to one day explain the manner in which Bronson and I “had” to get married (looooove that ‘had’).  Then in similar hushed conversations someone else might ask me something like how would we explain our tattoos to our kids? How would Bronson and I feel when one of our children came home with a tattoo or un planned pregnancy?

…You have to remember we’re in Utah County, Utah—so location is key here, but questions like this would come up frequently by older and younger people alike.

So I found myself thinking hard on issues like this.

Like…..Are we going to glorify the past? Or pretend it didn’t happen?  The truth didn’t even feel like an option—which is funny to me now. But the truth was—we were fine with it. We knew that other people didn’t like how it all went down-but us--we were OK with it. We’re still OK about it all.

The point I want to get at is what these well-meaning, concerned people were actually doing was projecting their shame about us onto our children.

Do you see that? It took me awhile to see it, but when I finally did see it-everything changed.

Here are my thoughts on our story: My thoughts on our story is that it matters.

Everyone’s story matters. The how’s, and why’s of it all totally matter,  and my kids,  they’re gonna know all of it.

I’ll explain getting married while pregnant at 19 and 20 years old as stupid. I will say I did it out of shear fear, with a little hope mixed in. I won’t glorify it at all, but I also won’t be ashamed. I will read them stories out of my journal to better show them the struggle. I’ll explain to them how we missed out on crucial social and brain developmental times–and how we made their life (and ours alike) more stressful and hard because of our irresponsible decisions as young adults.

– I’ll also tell them I would never take any of it back.

I’ll explain my tattoos like this: That day that I went in to get those two little swallows tattooed right at my bikini line is one theee most memorable in life. I felt so alive. I can still smell the smell in that room. I felt incredibly rebellious–and I loved those little birds and what they signified.

Then I’ll explain that once I had babies and those cute, little black and white swallow birds turned into huge, obese looking orca whales—that that’s when my feelings on them changed. They weren’t so cute anymore, but do I regret it? No way. Do I want you to do the same as me, oh sweet child of mine?  Nope. Noooo way, Jose! I feel that you’re body is magnificent just the way it is—but your body is YOUR body. Not mine.

Maybe this way they will be able to talk to me a little easier. This is a maybe, because I don’t know. They’ll lie to me, I’m sure of it, but I hope to be their confident instead of their corrections officer as they get older.  …More like their voice of reason.

This is what my Mom and Dad are to me.

But honesty and communication are key for this to work. If I expect honesty and clear communications from my children towards me, then I better be honest and communicative with them first, don’t you think?

SO, Bronson and I decided a few years ago that we have 3 categories of trump cards for our children. Their feelings in these categories  are irrelevent and mom and dad are king in:

  • Health
  • Safety
  • Education

Health, because if it was up to them, they’d eat Mcdonald’s fries for every meal.

Safety, because if it was up to them, Ozzy would run in  busy streets, starting fires everywhere,  while Remi would be online chatting with sketchy you-tubers.

Then finally, education, because who really ever wants to do homework?

So in these areas we step in. We trump them, but other than that—they guide us. I’ve figured out in the years since I’ve become a mother that a lot of what mothering is, is me getting out of my kids way, letting them find themselves, and assuring them that we’ll catch them if and when they fall.

—and oh ya, we make them do chores, too.

So along with these things, we decided that we’re going to tell them the truth. All of it. Whatever they want to know, when they want to know it. …And maybe even stuff they don’t wanna know, but we think they should.

This truth telling stuff is scary, guys.

It’s scary because once you start telling the whole truth you relinquish control on how others perceive you. You’re literally choosing to give up control, but remember that truth trumps control always.  

Lying, hiding, or bending parts of your history gives you a false sense of control—but what you’re actually doing is putting up walls. Brick by brick. Then the worst part is, once you’ve put up the wall, then you have to maintain that stupid wall—which takes up so much energy.

Truth telling for me means that I have decided I don’t want to live a life maintaining imaginary walls. It also means I’m choosing to have faith that my kids will see me, all of me, and love and respect me for exactly who I am.

June 9, 2017 11 comments
26 Facebook Twitter Google + Pinterest

Hellllllo everyone!

Today I am going to talk about ‘mirror work.’

This is a phrase I was reminded of when my friend who I talked about here, Jess, stayed with us over Memorial Day weekend.

The basics of mirror work is a lot like daily affirmations—but instead of repeating a mantra to yourself in your head like in meditation….you actually look in the mirror and say the affirmation out loud to yourself.

So while I have my kids repeat mantras each night like, I love myself and accept myself, and another one they like is, Peace begins with prayer, Jess told me she passes around a mirror and each one of her kids will hold it up, and while looking at themselves in the mirror, they will vocally say something they love about themselves.

I thought it was so cool she was teaching them this level of mindfulness so young.

So, one quiet morning after their stay I sat in front of my closet mirror and tried it….and honestly, it was SO hard.

I felt silly…then actually sad that it was hard for me to try to truly look at myself in the eyes and speak nice things to myself out loud.

Doing this mirror work makes me feel extremely  vulnerable, guys.

My eyes would see the imperfections first. The old, half-smeared mascara from yesterday, the blemishes, the messy hair…It was really hard to find the things I loved

But I persisted and I found out that I love that my two front teeth are longer than the rest, and squared. I looked more, and I saw that my top K9 teeth are sharp—yet still kind of square-ish, too…. and I never noticed that before.  I realized I loved those sharp teeth!

I scanned down my body, and stopped at my hands. I really like my hands. I have great hands.

Then it hit me…the things that stood about myself that I liked were because they reminded me of my mom.

I have my moms hands and my moms teeth…..AND I LOVE MY MOM!

It was like a little surprise—a gift I gave to myself.

So, every day since then I’ve tried to look at myself in the mirror, and pin point only the things I think are great.

Most days I’ see that my clothes are dirty and wrinkled…Dirty from making endless snacks and playing out side, and wrinkled from when Ozzy took a sweaty nap right on my lap. Now, though, I can’t help but love those wrinkles. In fact, to me, wrinkles are not wrinkles anymore—they’re snuggle marks.

They’re roof we snuggled for hours that day.

This is how I’m training my eyes and mind to see myself.  It’s a practice and I’m not great at it yet, but each day it gets less awkward, so I’ll keep going.

Does anyone else reading practice mirror work? I’d love to hear!

June 7, 2017 5 comments
4 Facebook Twitter Google + Pinterest

Goooooood Morning!

Instead of hating on Mondays, I’m starting to look forward to them.

I like the structure that Monday brings, you know….the routine of it all.

I like that I have some quiet time to myself in the morning to settle my thoughts, plan out the week,  and write to you all. I cannot seem to find the stillness that the weekdays bring during the weekends at all–and I’m wondering how this will all transition when school is out for summer in the next two weeks. Maybe I’ll turn into a night writer then? Maybe not? But, if I know anything for sure now…. its that I need aloneness just as much as I need air. This project has reaffirmed this truth to me.

This is almost an oxymoron because as a mother, I’m never really alone. Not ever. But I find moments throughout each day to slip away and just be.

As a teenager and younger adult I would always get called anti-social. And I even considered myself anti-social, because all of a sudden we would be going out and seeing people we love—then suddenly I would be like, “Sorry! I can’t go….you go! …But I’m just going to stay in.”

Then it would be this whole thing. Like a rapid fire of questions like:

Are you sick?

Do you have a headache?

Are you mad?

Do you want to do something else?

The answer would always be, “No, I’m fine!” ‘Cause I really was perfectly fine.

Then the next question would be, “Well then, why? Why not?”

And I never knew why not. I didn’t have a why back then…all I knew was that I didn’t want to go. I didn’t have the awareness, or vocabulary to articulate it. I didn’t know how to explain that I needed time each day to just be quiet, and alone. So I would feel bad, guilty, and confused—and to avoid further conflict I would go to whatever was planned anyways, and it’s weird to think back now, but I actually remember people calling me out for ‘zoning out’ all the time in social settings. Like I would be in a room full of people and start to feel overwhelmed, so I would zone out and go into my own headspace—and people would be like: Hello! Wes! Weslie! Are you even there?!?! Then I would snap out of myself, and come back into the group.

I didn’t know it then,  but I was always taking on everyone’s energy 24/7, and it was so, so  overwhelming. It drained me.

And because I wasn’t aware of it, I couldn’t control it.  I couldn’t help but take on all the vibes….whether they were good or bad it didn’t matter. My body and mind would absorb them up like a sponge.

It’s like I feel others peoples anxieties, insecurities, joy, pride, ego, happiness, judgements—EVERYTHING! I can feel it all.

I remember I would get quiet most of the time in social settings—I was probably considered shy. I would not do a lot talking, instead I would mostly be the listener– the silent absorber of it all.

It was only when I started practicing mindfullness, and meditation a few years ago that I realized what was going on, and how to protect myself from it. I had to create mental and energetic boundaries for myself.  This meant I had to set aside time each day to sit quietly alone, and  consciously make the choice to not take on other peoples energies.

But to do this, I neeeeeed alone time.

I need it. 

It could be just a few minutes, or an hour or two—fat chance on the hour, but I would take it if it was available.

Now that I know this about myself, though—I can ask for what I need more easily. I feel less vulnerable about it, and the best part is I have freed up so much of my own energy to put towards my family and friends and fun activities.

Has anyone else discovered this about themselves? I’d love to hear!

 

June 5, 2017 21 comments
13 Facebook Twitter Google + Pinterest

Guys!! My podcast with Munchin With Moguls is out today! Go take a listen!

Also—I would love to hear from you about some of your vulnerabilities on Instagram! Use  the hashtag: #magicofvulnerability, or if you’re not there yet…I get it…email me instead!

But I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again…THIS STUFF MATTERS! It’s healing for men and women alike-sharing your stories is making strangers feel not so alone and so other. It’s important, guys. And it feels so, so freeing. Take a leap of faith and just do it!

Ps…if you’re new here, be sure to start at the beginning so all of this makes sense. The first post is, The Magic of Vulnerability Challenge

Now onto to day 13’s post!!!

The issue of weight has been brought up to me too many times to count since starting this project, but only in my private messages. The private message are what speak the loudest to me…they’re the hushed secrets and shame at  a rolling boil, just about to spill out of the pot.

I’ve started to feel like the wooden spoon that people put on top of the pot. …to lessen the chances of it boiling over.

I’m like a little bit of relief before everything spills out.

But as long as the heat and pressure remains, that water will surely boil over and spill out—regardless of the wooden spoon on top.

I was expecting this to be a topic that would come up, but in the beginning I decided to not touch on the issue. I figured it was talked and thought about by us on our own…this weight issue is like a blaring strobe light always in our faces. Why draw any more attention to it here? But your guys’ emails have lead me to believe we have to talk about it.

So here’s my vulnerability for the day…

I have done things to my body in the name of health that has nothing to with health at all.

It was more about vanity.

It was about fitting into my pre pregnancy clothes again.

I disguised the vanity with health because health is good and acceptable, and vanity is, well, vain. And who wants to be vain?

How many of us do this? Really?If we’re being honest, I bet every single one of us has had an instance of this run throughout thoughts or actions. I remember when I was at my rock bottom and my mental state was so shook, that I believe it shook my body up, too.

My normally healthy body turned on itself. I developed candida, un explained rashes, perioral dermatitus, insulin sensitivity, and was on the cusp of hypothyroidism. I think this was all high stress,  lack of sleep, and grief/shame induced

I was a mess.

But as I educated myself on how to start living a lifestyle that would hopefully turn all these conditions around I found myself thinking—well, at least I am going to get really skinny.  Everything I was reading was like cut out gluten, dairy, meat, processed foods, and sugar. 

What was  left  was vegetables. Eat vegetables.

Vegetables=skinny.

Oooo lala

But that word, guys, skinny…it was like a reward. Some sort of sick, silver lining.

And here’s the thing about being skinny. Once you’ve been labeled skinny, it’s like this thing you feel you need to maintain….And this stick-thinness it’s just unattainable for forever.

When I wisened up, and started to love my body back to health and life-I vowed to never do anything in the name of health that was actually vanity in disguise again.

So, now I workout because I am a better me when I do.

I eat healthier, more well-rounded meals because they make me feel energized.

I do Wim Hof breathing exercises as a practice to connect my soul and body to keep it in alignment.

I’ve gained at least 10 pounds in the process of loving my self back to fully living life… And this 10 pounds doesn’t seem to be going anywhere soon….my body feels pretty content and happy with those extra lbs. I’d be lying if I said I was happy about it, but I’m choosing to not care.

I’m choosing to focus on the fact that I’m stronger now…much stronger. I can lift heavy weights, and do sprints for 10 minutes straight without breaks. This means I can swim in the pool, and chase my kids all day without my body tiring out.

And it all really comes down to the fact that a life trying to remain thin just for the purpose of being thin would sure be a waste of one, don’t you think?

I think so.

I just want to to remind you all today to check in with your thoughts. Are they coming from a health standpoint or vanity standpoint? Maybe a mixture of both? Mine was unknowingly a mixture of both until I did some internal digging….

I want to remind you that you are not that number on the scale–no matter how small big it may be.

You are not  that number.

And let’s all just give ourselves a break. Cause we neeeeeed a break from this weighty issue!

May 31, 2017 7 comments
13 Facebook Twitter Google + Pinterest

You guys, this whole process has been so amazing…..SO FREAKIN AMAZING!

It has exceeded my wildest expectations…and more importantly, it has freed me.

Before when I would finally have the desire to start posting after such a long hiatus, I would sit down and try to write, but not know where to start. Too much had happened, I felt too different.  …And for whatever reason I couldn’t just gloss over it.

At the same time, I couldn’t share it yet, either.

So there I was… trapped in a prison of my own making.

What this little experience has showed me is that you guys…YOU… you can handle me. You’ll understand. From here on out, I feel buoyed up by the idea that I can go through this life and share or not share whatever I want with you here, and be OK.  I trust that its a safe place now. Before I just didn’t know…. it was too frightening.

So onto my vulnerability for the day…

I trust this place (and you guys) with my words. 

…and its always been about the words for me.

Always.

The second part of this blogging gig is the photos—-and I hate that part.

While writing my guts out feels incredibly natural and easy, the photo part feels entirely forced.

It’s an anxiety inducing, energy depleting part of this process for me.

I freaking hate it.

From getting everyone dressed, and bribing them (’cause they all hate it, so BRIBES!),  to asking someone to take the photos, or worse…trying to take them myself. To the editing, and the judgey part of my brain that picks apart each one.

I hate it all.

Knowing that I should care about how I (or we) look, our clothing choices, to questions like are we smiling or serious?Are we even looking at the camera? Are we all going to pretend hug? Should I literally strike a pose? Like everyone hurry up and act natural!, but it’s soooo not natural. Then I have to move onto the graininess, color, frame, style, and BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. It goes on, and IT’S EXHAUSTING!

The photo process soaks all the fun right out of this for me. A literal fun sponge.

Its just not my thing. Can we all know this about me? I just need everyone to know.

My truth today is that my photos (if I’m in charge) are gonna suck.

In fact….Today ‘featured image’  at the top of this blog is my phones wallpaper…you can see the date at the top cut off–and it’s because I literally don’t know how to size it and I have no other options. ….And I have to cook dinner still, and do homework. So this is as good as it gets. This is truthfully what inspired todays post–I was looking, and not able to find a damn photo, so I finally succumbed to a screenshot of my wallpaper.

Haha.

So now you know that if I’m in charge of pictures that they’re most likely going to be terrible quality selfies, taken with my phone,  or pictures of my kids wearing the same 4 shirts cause THATS JUST WHAT THEY DO, AND I DON’T WANT TO FORCE THEM TO CHANGE FOR THE SAKE OF ALL YOUR EYES…or screenshots of other, older photos.

So, there it is. I’m feeling vulnerable about it.

Especially since this online world is a visually driven one, and I rather get a tetanus shot that go take pictures.

Go figure.

What I’m asking of you is this: love me even though my photos sometimes really suck. 

May 31, 2017 3 comments
5 Facebook Twitter Google + Pinterest
Newer Posts