Category Archives: Thoughts on Life

My Year Without a Scale

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I’m going to do something that I normally really dislike doing. It’s something that I very actively and purposefully try and not talk about both on my blog and in real life, and there are a number of reasons why. This topic-that-shall-not-be-named revolves around an issue that we, namely females, inevitably think about all too often, whether we like to our not.

What we weigh, how we look, and the changes we think “need” to be made to our bodies.

As runners, these are issues we face in a somewhat different way than the average female. Fortunately, I think most of us know that we need proper fuel, and we understand that our bodies are only going to work most effectively if they are fed and fed often. However, at the same time, we want to maintain a lean, strong physique so that our speed and endurance stays high. So, although our activity level typically allows us to concentrate a bit less on being uber-healthy all the time, and more on extra pasta consumption, we are still faced daily with “body thoughts.”

And to be frank, I really don’t like body thoughts, and I don’t like that this topic seems to be all girls talk about when they get together.

I will 100%, totally admit to being victim of the looming thoughts of what if I gain weight, what if my jeans look tight, or if I should really have another piece of candy. I’m not going to pretend that I’m somehow past all these tendencies, and in fact I’m far from them. However, this does not mean that I think we, as women, should be incessantly, communally discussing these things.

I think constant body talk between women is one of the most toxic scenarios we can engage in, and it’s a slippery slope to go from simple talk about workouts and favorites foods into diets we “should” be doing and why we’re somehow not up to par with the perfect arms, the perfect stomach…you get it. I think it’s way too easy for women to get caught up in these discussions (myself included) because unfortunately we are hardwired (Thanks, every women’s magazine on the market) to think them each and every day, and when we’re offered an outlet to free these thoughts—we jump at them. Conversations of substance and self-fulfillment are completely drowned by our tendency to jump on “What I Ate Today” talk, and personally I very actively avoid fostering these conversations.

I have been around them, I have vehemently participated in them, and I have realized that I no longer want to be around them. This is one of the biggest reasons I don’t tend to talk about these things on my blog, and I try and surround myself with people who would rather talk about margaritas and fro-yo than diets and losing 5 pounds.

I haven’t always been this way though, and I do still contradict myself. But I am making very purposeful strides in surrounding myself with people, both in real life and in my virtual readings, that focus on all the great things going on instead of all the things they wish they could change.

So, with all that said, I’m going to delve a bit into this topic I dislike so very much. But I promise, it will have a dignifying ending and it will be chalk-full of lessons I’ve learned myself and I think other people could benefit from as well.

Yesterday marked a one-year anniversary, and one that I am quite proud of. It has been exactly one year since I have stepped on a scale. That seems NUTS to me! I’ve never been super intent on weighing myself, however I can guarantee I have never gone this long in my life without any precise knowledge of what I weigh. Well, in my post-pubescent life I suppose. I remember the last time I was on a scale so precisely because it was at a doctor’s appointment for my hip injury, and I can conscientiously remember at that time thinking, “If I hate getting on the scale, why do I always look at it when I’m at the doctor?”

Now, in no way am I shaming anyone who likes to keep tabs on what they weigh. For a lot of people I think it has some good accountability effects, and it helps keep their fitness goals in check. However, I am willing to bet that there are very few females out there who have a “healthy” relationship with the scale. One number off from where we’d “like” the reading to be can throw us into a panic attack about what we’re doing wrong, what we should be doing more (or less) of, and essentially all the reasons why we are failures. We step on the scale hoping for justification, either a number at or below what we imagine to be “ideal,” because if that number appears we feel justified and successful.

Again, there’s nothing wrong with feeling a sense of success if you are actively trying to lose weight and there’s a certain number you want to scale to read. However, for the rest of us, those of us who eat healthy enough, exercise frequently, and try and maintain an at-least somewhat healthy lifestyle, I think the scale can be your absolute worst enemy.

If you are proactively living a healthy life, why should you need some number to define that success? If you feel healthy, if you feel good, then that should absolutely suffice as a means of self-satisfaction. Scales are completely variable, and the number can be altered by any assortment of factors; how much water you’ve recently drank, when your last meal was, when you last went to the bathroom, how much sodium you have in you, etc., etc. I could weigh myself on two back-to-back days and the scale may say something entirely different depending on the number of chips and guac I ate, or simply the clothing I’m wearing.

{The number of chips and guac I consume in a sitting can most often be defined as “all of them,” if you need some clarity}

The point is, the scale tricks you, and you are a much more reliable source of information regarding your current state of self-content. Many people think that numbers on a scale are more tangible and specific than, say, the way our clothes fit or—gasp—how we feel about ourselves. Thanks Cosmo, Women’s Health, Shape, and every other “credible” health news source for constantly berating us with this memo. I believe that it is the thought that you are only as good as the number on the scale that has completely given numbers and scales all the power, and I think this mentality is completely backward.

I remember when I was in my mid-to-late teens I would sometimes ask my mom how I looked, if I looked like I’d gained or lost weight, etc. Now, there were definitely times when the real answer was, “Robyn, you are a freshman in college and you’ve been living off alcohol and dorm pizza for a semester, what did you expect?” But, my mother, bless her, did not say this. In response to my pleads for if I looked like I had gained weight, she replied, “Well, how do you feel?”

And this is the question I still ask myself, as an alternative to stepping on a scale—and it has become a much healthier and freeing way to live. When I finish a long run, and I’m caked in sweat and salt and desperate for a huge bagel, am I thinking about what the scale says?

Hell the F no.

I feel fantastic, I feel accomplished, and I feel healthy—all completely independent of whatever number the scale would say if I stepped on it. By deciding to not weigh myself, I have started to regain the power over my self-satisfaction and established a valuable understanding of how to be my own judge.

Are there times when I’m curious what I weigh? Sure. Having gone through two marathon training cycles, I am marginally interested to see if there’s been any affect. But that interest is rooted in the part of me that still subscribes to Women’s Health and thinks about how I could probably afford to stop eating desserts every night. Instead, I prefer to think about it like this:

I have legs that can run 26.2 miles in a row

I have arms that can do more push-ups that any Barbie-arm girl could ever think of.

I have a stomach that always enjoys cookies, beer, and bread baskets.

I have feet that look like a car ran over them, and all semblance of pedicured toes has been gone for years. But it’s because they’ve spent hours stuffed in running shoes, pounding on the ground, and carrying whatever-it-is I weigh up and down hills, through the snow and rain, and over hundreds of miles.

And guess what? I love these things about myself. I love them more than any “ideal” number on a scale could ever say, and whenever I start to think that there’s a certain standard I’m unable to reach, I remind myself that the body I do have is the one that has given me so many more rewards and accomplishments than I could have every hoped for.

My year without a scale has also been a year when I became a marathoner, when I started to rid myself of toxic conversations and acquaintances, when I started a blog, and when I realized that if I eat healthy, stay active, and focus on the positive—why should a certain number of pounds matter? I don’t think this is a coincidence. I think that by letting the scale rest in the metaphorical cobwebs, I have begun to unlearn the self-deprecating habits that unfortunately hold almost every female in our society captive.

It is this new mentality that has made me very adverse to discussions and blog posts regarding weight loss, weight gain, and body talk in general. Again, I’m not immune to it and I probably have at least one “I wish this was different…” thought every day. But, by ridding myself of the scale and focusing on what my body can do as opposed to what it’s not doing, or looking like, I feel much more free and in control.

So, what is the underlying point to all this? Well, I’m not telling you to stop weighing yourself or to throw your scale in the dumpster (although such a move would be epicly super-female-empowering-movie-esque, and you should send me a picture). But, I am encouraging all my lady friends, relatives, and readers out there to concentrate more on all the things we do have going for us, as opposed to all the things we wish was different. Because this much I know is true: The way you “think” you should be is frequently not your opinion at all; it’s the opinion we have been forced to believe with every goddamn ad, magazine, movie, tv show, and photo out there. If you are living a healthy life, you are exactly the way you’re supposed to be, and that is absolutely something to be fist-pumping proud of.

Sometimes I get really You Go Girl about things, and this is one of them. If you disagree with some of the things I’ve said, that’s totally fine—I realize a lot of these thoughts are my opinion and you’re welcome to think differently. But, no matter what you believe, allow me to please encourage you to think about how you measure your self-worth. More likely than not, you’re going to discover the unfortunate reality that we rely very heavily on pop-culture “information” as our instruction book for self esteem. This isn’t right, and I think we owe it to ourselves to regain the power in the battle each of us faces every day. Because we do have that power, and it’s our’s for the taking if we choose to redirect our energy and attention in more constructive and positive lights.

 

Have you ever broken up with the scale? Do you think there’s any value in them? Is there anything to be gained by discussing our body issues with our female friends? This is the only time I’ll ever ask these types of questions, so speak loudly!

Bubbles and Balloons

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Good afternoon!

I need to begin this post with a big, enthusiastic “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” shout out to my little sister, Corey. She is turning 22 today, and so happy and proud of the beautiful and exceptional person she’s become.

Happy Birthday CB! I love you!

Yes, you might be thinking that I’m the one that’s two years younger…but alas, I will accept my permanently-16-years-old look and let Corey be the tall and lovely birthday girl.

Today’s post was inspired, in fact, by an idea that Corey introduced me too about handling stress and alleviating worries.

My life is a bit of a jumble right now, and stress has been getting the better of me. Everything that’s going on is definitely exciting, but with multiple layers of things to get done, people to see, and life to live, I’ve been feeling the wear and tear of chronic “go! go! go!” mode. Last night, particularly, I was having one of those, “Every single thought that ever existed is in my head right now and I must think through them ALL!” kind of brain warp, and sleep was out of the question. I couldn’t turn my brain off (you know how that goes) and as soon as I realized I was in this sleepless mode, I started to panic—which in turn jumbles my nerves into a frenzy even more. I am sure you all can relate to this feeling when you’re trying to fall asleep, and it really sucks. You somehow talk yourself out of sleeping, and the later it gets the more worried you become about the 145,972,239 consequences of your insomnia.

{Note: Aside from some small under-eye bags and a slight tired feeling, the consequences are never as bad as we expect.}

So, there was this not-so-awesome party in my head, and in order to turn away from all these random stressful thoughts, I tried an exercise that Corey taught me a while ago.

You see, Corey has a much more upfront and practical relationship with her feelings than I do, and it’s always been a strength for her. So, while I get hysterical and let the tiniest little things get me all riled up and crazy, Corey remains calm (which yes, drove me crazy growing up……and might still) and rationalizes everything down in a cool, collected manner.

So, as stated previously, she taught me about something she does when things aren’t going swimmingly—no matter if it’s an issue with a friend, school, boyfriend, job, etc. She goes into her room, allows herself to really be with and think about the things/person that’s bothering her for approximately 5 minutes. She doesn’t hide from the stress, she invites it in the door and sits with it the same way you would an awkward ex at a coffee shop or a creepy cousin at a family reunion. Once she’s addressed the stressor, she figuratively puts whatever the source is in a “bubble” from which it can’t escape, and she lets it be. For her, this process allows the stress to be acknowledged, but not overwhelm her schedule or mood.

I myself prefer writing, running, and screaming, but since none of these were readily available in my comforter cocoon of restlessness last night, I decided to take on the bubble approach. I thought very specifically about the things that were stressing me out, in detail, and I imagined them floating off in their own individual bubbles. I got about 4 bubbles out of me, and I don’t remember anything after that—because I immediately fell asleep.

Bubble success! Until….cue morning.

I woke up before my alarm in a tizzy of stressful thoughts. “I have this and this and this to do and these people to email and OMG I have to run right now but I’m not rested enough so it’s gonna suck and blah blah blah blah.” Does this happen to you? It’s not a pleasant way to wake up, and I sort of scorned the bubble process. It felt as if instead of creating boyant, airy bubbles that would float my stress away into the universe, I had actually created balloons; and not the fun birthday balloons, but the sunken, slightly deflated monster-big balloons that stick around for months no matter how long you wait them out.

If you are wondering, by the way, if my balloon from Valentine’s Day(which I LOVE, BF!) is still afloat in our dining room, yes it is. It’s time for it to go, but it won’t die.

So there I was, jolted awake by the rustle of big, floppy, stress-filled balloons that were planning on hanging around as long as possible. “Hey Robyn, we want to hang out with you forever!” is what it felt like they were saying, and although I was irritated at my inability to rid myself of all my thoughts—I did have another weapon, running.

So, despite my late night and early morning, I geared up, ate my handful of cereal, and set off on my run—with each and every stress balloon tied to my arms and wrists.

If you can’t beat it, run with it. And that’s what I did. I got through approximately 1 minute and 20 seconds of a song when I hurriedly removed my headphones and ran in the stillness and quiet. I needed to be with my thoughts, my balloons, and not drown them out with the crooning of T-Swift and Glee.

So I ran, clad in balloons, and with each exhale and footstep, I was able to speak directly to each of the things that were bothering me. My form of power, the thing that makes me feel that I can overcome obstacles, is my running—and today it let me exercise that power. Without too much effort or frustration, I was able to slowly rationalize and work through all the things that my brain had so tightly jumbled. It was similar to unraveling a giant lump of tangled necklaces; looping my way through each tangle and kink until I could release each individual string.

The string, in this case, not being necklaces—but balloons. Balloons that were full of various stresses that individually, were manageable, but together created a cyclone of burden. Running allowed the best way to calm that cyclone by sorting through each stressor individually until they slowly, one by one, began to relinquish their grips on my wrists and float off into the morning air. The balloons still existed, and I could see them all floating around me, but their load had been lessened and I could run free knowing that I still had power over them.

 

So, while Corey’s bubble approach may be the higher level of this stress-capturing metaphor, it definitely was applicable toward my own current state of being. Although my bubbles were in the shape of balloons, and they took a bit longer to take flight, I certainly felt that by carrying the balloons on my run with me, instead of leaving them at home for me to come back to, I was able to simulate the feeling of letting go. Running is magical in this regard, and I think when we can take our problems on the road with us instead of pretending they’ll somehow go away, we gain a much greater appreciation for our own control and power.

So, maybe someday I’ll be able to create big, air-thin bubbles that make my stresses float off into the abyss. But for now, the balloons will do. And so long as I can muster the extra energy to bring them along with me on my runs—I’m thinking there’s no way they’ll be able to stay tied on too tightly. And after all, nothing hangs on too long to sweat-covered arms.

Tell me about your beat-the-stress running techniques. Do you let the huffing and puffing and loud music detoxify your clutter-filled brain, or do you run in silence with your stress balloons, releasing them one-by-one?

 

 

 

Reconsidering the “Racing Factor”

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Hello!

I’m currently writing from the sunshine filled land of Pasadena, California- quite literally; I’m sitting outside on my grandparents’ back lawn soaking up some rays and basking in vacation relaxation. Things have been quite lovely so far in Spring Break world, and I’m happy to say that I’ve been very conscientious to work on something that is often times very difficult for me: chilling out.

If you’ve read this blog before (thanks for returning, by the way!), then you have probably gathered that I am the type of person who always likes a fully developed and refined plan, agenda, or schedule for every moment of the day. Sure, this helps keep me on track, but I’ve realized throughout this past year that it also leaves very little room for spontaneity and being present. I began noticing that the more I focused on “What’s next?” the less I was concerned with what was happening around me.

Additionally, I found that this mode of operating can actually lead to some unfortunate disappointment. If I’m so focused on exactly how my day will go- who I will see, what we will do, what we will eat, etc. then there isn’t any room for imagination. Everything is expected and planned out to a point where the reality is a bit of a let down. Sure, this isn’t always the case, but I have definitely been conscientious about not being so methodical about orchestrating each and every day according to what I think will yield the best possible outcome. Because the truth is, we need to leave room for the element of surprise to whisk us away from our routines and surprise us with something unexpected. I think some of the best times I’ve had have been when I’ve jumped into something without prior planning or organization. Relinquishing the reigns of control to the randomness of the universe is often times the most exciting mode of operation.

I have a point to all this rambling- I promise. You see, this trip I have been catching myself wondering what the entire scope of my day is going to look like. This is understandable, because on vacations you make plans for fun things to do, right? But I’ve been realizing that plans are what I make and obide by all the time, and what would happen if I just let the present dictate my decision making?

My family is fairly laid back in regards to daily routine- which is very helpful, as they help to balance out my own scheduling compulsions. When I’m with my family, I love that I’m able to take a step back from the pre-determined stuff and focus more on the little moment-to-moment joys of life. And you know what? There are a whole lot of them.

One of the reasons I’ve been thinking on this idea of presence versuses planning is because of the derailment/rearranging that’s needed to happen with my running. My knee is slowly but surely getting better, but I am most definitely outside of the training schedule/progress that I expected to be in. I ran 9 miles yesterday, very slowly and somewhat uncomfortably, and I’m coming to terms with the fact that despite all the effort I’ve put into this Eugene Marathon planning and dreaming, it might not pan out the way I had hoped. And I’m realizing…it’s ok.

I do still think I’ll be able to do the race…all 26.2…but it might not go exactly as I had planned. Truthfully, I have had my eye on getting a BQ this time around; my training runs were indicating that I had a decent shot at it, and I was just sort of feeling that it could definitely happen. I was prepared for it to not happen, but I was going to go for it.

At this point, it’s becoming less of an ideal. Sure, there’s still a shot, but this hiccup in my training has taken my expectations down a notch. I’m not necessarily relieved (because trust me a BQ is high on my must-get list!) however I don’t feel like I’ll be all that disappointed in myself if it doesn’t happen.

This injury/break/slowing down of my training has tweaked my perspective a bit, and I’m realizing that it’s okay for a perfectly formulated plan to not go, well, according to plan. I’ve been so focused and determined to refine my training in order to get that BQ that I lost perspective a bit on just enjoying my daily runs, no matter their pace or distance. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and believe me there’s nothing I’m gunning for more than knocking out a 20 miler, but for right now- for today- that’s not going to happen. I’m still in “recovery” mode and I’m more concerned right now with taking care of myself than crying over a race that hasn’t even happened yet.

Because the fact of the matter is- racing or not racing- running is still the best part of it all. I think as marathon, half-marathon, 10k, and 5k racers, we get so focused on our times and PRs that we forget that running isn’t meant to be about hardware and bibs- it’s about enjoying ourselves, pushing ourselves, and appreciating the potential of our bodies. I love racing, and I don’t plan on stopping, but I do appreciate this new-found realization that being a runner, to me, is more about the feeling I get when it’s 6:30 in the morning, the sun’s coming up, I’m listening to my breathing, and I feel totally and completely myself. That’s the reason I push myself to get up out of bed, and that’s the reason I will always come back to this sport.

Racing is a fantastic way to work toward a goal and maintain a running regimin, but ultimately- it’s really just another run. A plain, simple run- just with a lot more running buddies and water stops.

I suppose the point that I’m getting to is that for me, someone who is by nature uber competitive and incredibly planning-oriented, sometimes dropping the “racing factor” out of running helps bring the greatness of the sport back into perspective. It stops being this monotonous, check-list item that is only working toward a singular, far away goal, and it becomes once again a daily joy and privilege.

So maybe I will BQ Eugene, maybe I’ll just simply finish it. Maybe I’ll have to drop down to the half, or maybe I won’t even make it at all. I’m not really sure at this point in time, but for now I’m going to savor the mornings that I do get to lace up my Asics and run, no matter how slowly, until I’m fully better and ready to push myself.

I love having goals, and there are many futuristic running goals that I’m excited to take on, but I also love being able to take a step back from those goals and focus on the wonderful things that are already happening around me, running related and non running related.

________

Have a great week! And if you care to share…was there a point in time when you realized you were too consumed with one end point?

Habits I’m Never Going to Stop, and I’m Okay With It

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It feels like we are constantly bombarded with messages of self help. Everywhere I look recently, I see a new way to improve upon the way I live my life—how to work out better, how to eat better, how to cook better, how to be more sustainable, how to be more organized, how to save the whales, on and on and on. This stuff overwhelms me, and while I like to think I take it all with a grain of salt, every so often it gets in my head a little.

I start questioning my daily practices, and when I try to compare my lifestyle with all the mantras of “the right way to do such-and-such,” I get intimidated. Because frankly, it feels like I’m doing just about everything wrong.

Sure, I know that these are mostly just marketing schemes, and I can dismiss a great deal of them, however I’ve been realizing lately that there are certain “you should do”s that are constantly lingering in the back of my head. And once these ideas of “changes I should be making but haven’t yet” get planted in my brain, I have a really hard time letting myself off the hook.

I beat myself up over the fact that I “know” I should make a certain change, but never do. Some of these things are small, some are bigger; some are personal habits, and some are driven by the All Powerful Voice of Society. And the fact of the matter is—some of these are changes that actually should be made, I will fully admit that. That’s not what this post is about though.

No. This post is about accepting the fact that there are habits I will never change, and I’m going to forgive myself for it.

The thing is, a lot of the things I shame myself for are completely harmless and distinguishable only to me. They aren’t necessarily right or wrong, they are just small habits that I’ve decided to spend way too much energy stressing over. And why?

I’ve decided to let myself off the hook and focus my attention on more important matters—like the changes I can make that would actually make an impact. I’m finding it incredibly self-centered to spend so much time trying to tweak the way I live my life so it fits in this perfect little mold that our culture deems “worthy,” when in fact that mold is going to change again next week when there’s another way to organize our desks or eat our cereal or lift weights.

I’m thinking that maybe if I break up with these nagging notions of bettering myself, I’ll be able to exit the confines of my head a bit and focus on more important matters.

So, with that said, I give you Habits I’m Never Going to Stop, and I’m Okay With It.

–Consuming Dairy

Oh ice cream, I will never forsake you. Don't worry, this relationship is fo life.

I have heard every single argument about why humans shouldn’t eat dairy, and to be honest I agree with some of them. And way back when during injury days, when I needed something to focus on besides being depressed about not running, I did a 3-week cleanse where I gave up a whole lot of stuff—dairy included. Truthfully, I felt great. But is this for life? No.

I don’t have very much dairy—I drink soy milk in my coffee and use almond milk in my cereal—but the fact of the matter is I love yogurt, ice cream, and cheese, and I’m not going to give them up.

I am always hard on myself with this one, especially since there have been points in time when I’m surrounded by “OMG why would you poison your body with…cheese?!?!” people. No offense vegan friends, but I consider myself a healthy enough eater to keep dairy on my plate. So I will enjoy my fro-yo and my grilled cheese sandwiches, and I will not feel any guilt about it.

– Eating dinner in front of the TV

Alex, you're kind of an asshole, and you definitely fake bake, but I love the way you narrate trivia to me nightly.

I know every single study and their mom screams at everyone that “You eat 500% more when you eat in front of the TV.” Blah, blah, blah…I understand. However, the time I spend having dinner and watching Jeopardy with BF is one of my favorite parts of the day—and considering we don’t have a family of people to catch up with and together spend plenty of time conversing during other parts of the day, this one is gonna slide.

Sure, this might come to a stop someday, but for now I will shout out answers to Alex Trebek’s questions with a mouth full of food.

– Not wearing real clothes every day

Best friends who prefer shorts and fleeces together, stay together.

My definition of real clothes means something outside of yoga pants, half-zips, and running shoes. This is, as you can probably tell, the combination of attire I put together quite frequently, and I always get so down-and-out about it. But hey—guess what—I work from home, and this is probably the last point in time in my life that I will be able to work in whatever I feel like. I need to give this one up and accept that Starbucks doesn’t care if I’m not completely put together every day of the week.

–Taking samples out of the bulk bins at grocery stores.

Andddd there goes my self-control... and my law abiding actions.

You can judge me for this one, it’s okay. Except that we’ve all done it, and yes—as a 23-year-old adult I still do it. And I’m not going to stop. There’s something so fun about a mini snack while grocery shopping.

And on that note…

– Choosing grocery stores because I know there will be samples

Strawberry shortcake sample. Tell me how this could not make your day?

As I’ve mentioned probably many times before, I love samples, and I fully believe that all grocery stores would benefit from providing a few samples throughout the day. With that said, I always think I’m a mooch/fat kid for going to grocery stores because I know there will be a sample available. However, after discussing this with a few people, I’m learning I’m not the only one who does this—and in fact,everyoneloves samples.

The sample-motivated grocery shopping stays.

– Shopping at BP in Nordstrom

For those of you who don’t know, BP is the junior’s section of Nordy’s, and I feel embarrassed every time I go in there. I’m at that weird age where the junior’s clothes can look too young, the women’s clothes can look too old, and I’m armed with a credit card that is really only looking for things on sale.

Now, I will fully admit that my wardrobe can grow up a bit. However, I believe that I can still spend my shopping hours in the BP department, so long as I make non-high-school clothing decisions. I can afford BP, and I like to think I can make it look older than the girls who shop their with their mommies.

So until I can hire a personal shopper, I’ll stick with what I know—and oh, do I know BP.

– Not buying expensive jeans or shoes

See? I can even ride a bike in my non-designer-yet-still-acceptable jeans!

I’ve heard it over and over and over again. “Expensive jeans will change your life,” and “You’re ruining your feet with cheap shoes.” I know, I know…and I actually think I’m in the minority for not owning any Sevens or Pages or whatever those $200 denim wizards call them. I’m not buying jeans from Forever 21, but I don’t think I need to shell out a ton of money for a decent pair of pants. I’ve had the same two pairs of jeans for almost two years now, they are in great shape, and they were each under $100.

As for shoes, this does not apply to running shoes. Give me a comfy and dependable pair of sneaks and I’ll hand you all the money in my wallet. But as for heels, flats, boots, etc…no, sorry, I just can’t do it. I’m not a total cheapskake with shoes, but I cannot justify spending the amount of money some people do for shoes. I’ve tried—and all that happens is I think of all the races I could register for, the cookies I can buy, and the money I could put toward all my loans, and I just can’t do it.

And it’s okay. I’m forgiving myself for not shelling out for “the good stuff,” no matter what all you fashionistas say about it.

–Reading celebrity gossip magazines

Oh Britney, you've come so far. I will always "Help" you, never fear.

As an English major and lover of books, I always scoff at myself for reading and (gasp!) buying gossip magazines. I always think, “You should be reading a book, listening to a news podcast, writing in your journal” instead. This is chronic; whether I’m reading an US Weekly on a plane, or flipping through an In Touch at the gym, I am so incredibly self-aware and embarrassed.

But guess what? I love these magazines, no matter how shameful I feel. And when I go to the airport, I look forward to a trip into Hudson News and selecting the most enticing publication featuring rich content such as Kim Kardashian’s Workout Secrets, The Truth Behind Justin’s Proposal to Jessica, and The Oscar’s Best Dressed. I love that shit, and I’m not going to stop.

I love nonfiction, fiction, biographies, plays, and the gossip of Hollywood’s rich and famous. It’s who I am, and I’m going to hold my head high.
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After beginning to compile this list, I was frightened at just how many things there are in my life that I stress over. I’m realizing more and more just how much our marketing culture capitalizes on the fact that humans are so frickin’ self-serving, and as soon as we hear a message directed toward “us” we immediately become consumed with egotistical thoughts.

I know it’s human nature, and we’re all 100% guilty of it, but I think if we start to question the “what to do” and “what not to dos” a bit more, and forgive ourselves for the small nuances that don’t really alter our character, we can focus our energy more outward.

It’s a lot easier to appreciate the people, places, and general joie de vie around us when we’re less stressed about the things we so often get hung up on. Forgive yourself for the habits you have that you obsess over. Chances are, they add to the things that make you you.

 

What is a habit you aren’t going to change and be okay with? What are you going to forgive yourself for?