May 19, 2009

Fat Scars

I went bathing suit shopping. Seeing as how the last time I wore a bathing suit, I got stuck on my back and needed the help of a couple of friends to get up out of the sand (picture a beached whale, and you'll be on the right track) - I was slightly intimidated by the whole process. Now, even though this summer I'm a great deal smaller than I was last year - my body is not nearly the shape or consistency that I desire it to be in. I'm soft and saggy with loose skin that is no longer perky or plumped by the fat that had once grown to enormous proportions underneath. Areas between my legs and under my arms are discolored and... well, droopy.

Sexy.

Beyond that? I have fat scars - i.e. stretch marks. These marks on my skin resemble scars of one who has been in some kind of horrific accident - or mauled by a large carnivorous animal. Fleshy, metallic-looking, and oh-so-unattractive these marks cover my underarms, stomach, legs, and - other unmentionable locations. Even when the surrounding areas are tanned to a golden bronze, these marks remain a shiny-pinkish hue.  They are my fat scars.

For every external scar, I have a dozen emotional ones. Fear based on the reality of past experience often completely paralyzes me. This past weekend, I had opportunity to go to the beach (thus, the bathing suit shopping). Even though it was hot and I was ROASTING on the sand, it took seeeeeeeeveral minutes before I worked up the courage to strip off my jeans - exposing my short-clad-white-as-the-winter-snow legs. And sometimes if there is a group of people congregating (store, parking lot, mall, etc...) I will take the long way around so as to avoid (what I predict would be) stares and jeers. LOGICALLY, I know that these fears are irrational, and that I should not allow them to dictate what I wear in the ocean or the path that I trot down to get to the sliding doors at the Wal-Mart. And yet sometimes, I do. The emotional wreckage that I contend with on a daily basis provides interesting fodder for my psyche, and allows the little fish and sponges of my past a place to dwell and grow.

And so... much more damaging than the physical scars are the emotional scars. By not cleaning out the wreckage and facing the demons head on, I've done my spirit and my body a disservice. I know this may sound a little extreme coming from someone who has lost 50+ pounds, but I see myself slipping back into old patterns and habits. When my feelings are hurt, or I'm bored, or angry, or excited, or happy, or sleepy, or stressed out to the MAX - I have found myself turning to food again. Crappy food. It gives me a temporary high in a place of solace and peace - that doesn't last much past the fork tickling my tongue. This has been going on for a few weeks now - and it's time to stop.

I refuse to have these victories stolen from me.
I refuse to rely on my own power to conquer this beast.
I refuse to get lazy and complacent.
I refuse to let food be my friend.
I refuse to allow this sin to be entertained for even one more SECOND.
I refuse - very simply - to go back to the way I was before.

So, even though the emotional scars may not be smoothed over and buffed away in the course of a year... 5 years.... 10 years.... 100 years - the physical scars of the sadness and sickness that had once completely engulfed my existence will always be a helpful, albeit ugly, reminder of what I have the potential of being. I'll never try to eradicate them with lasers or expensive lotions - because they will forever spur me toward better choices, better thinking, better living.


"16 I ask him to strengthen you by his Spirit - not a brute strength but a glorious inner strength - 17 that Christ will live in you as you open the door and invite him in. And I ask him that with both feet planted firmly on love, 18 you'll be able to take in with all Christians the extravagant dimensions of Christ's love. Reach out and experience the breadth! Test its length! Plumb the depths! Rise to the heights! 19 Live full lives, full in the fullness of God. 20 God can do anything, you know - far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us." -Ephesians 3:16-20

May 12, 2009

P.S.

The ring


I'm engaged.

May 08, 2009

My boyfriend


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Originally uploaded by Sara (SAY-ruh)
Funny that I haven't really talked much about my Cliff and the special relationship that we have. Especially considering he is SO much a part of my life now. And admittedly - one of the main reasons that my blog has become so sorely neglected. LOL - eh, I guess that explains a lot, huh?

Who woulda thunk that chubby pink haired geeky Sara would have fallen in love so hard... and so quickly? Cliff is my counterpart in every way. We're practically the same person in some areas, and perfectly different in others. Our similarities and life paths run so close and so deep that... well... quite frankly: it's a little freaky.

It occurred to me the other day, that even when we're old and gray - married for 52 years - watching old Star Trek re-runs, and changing one another's diapers: he'll still be my boyfriend.

When we first started dating, I hesitated using that word. Having been raised with a different ideology about dating and boyfriend/girlfriend relationships in general - I spent the first several weeks suffering with a bit of an identity crisis over a simple matter of what to call him. But Cliff, as he so often does, infused a little common sense into my overthinkerlyness. If I call him baby, sweetie, boyfriend, The Cute Boy, or My Little Pooshnowb (which, in fact, I often do) - at the end of the day, who gives a flying flip? Truly.

Also - with everyone in my life GETTING MARRIED (my sister, my other sister, my dad, Cliff's mom, Cliff's brother, etc... etc..) it made me want to kind of speed things up a little bit. Move this right along!!!! We're aiming toward marriage - so, let's get there already!!! Heck. Everybody else is. Sheesh. Not only that, but I came to a point where calling him "my boyfriend" seemed petty and small in comparison to how I felt about him. But Cliff has taught me to cherish this time. It's a special season in our lives together, and it should be savored and appreciated for what it is. Let it grow and blossom in its own time.... let's not try to pry the bloom open with our clumsy, overzealous fingers. It's the process that the flower goes through to open that makes its fruit that much more sweet.

I do have a point here. Somewhere. Ah, yes - the bottom line is that I'm in love with my best friend. He'll always be a boy-that's-also-a-friend. So, in that - yes, he will always be my boyfriend.

And as I sit here watching said boyfriend construct a water fountain in the middle of a giant Apple logo that he fashioned out of stone and rocks - I realize how blessed I truly am. We have some amazing years ahead, and I'm so very grateful that we get to experience them together.

April 19, 2009

Follicle Follies

V-log

April 08, 2009

Wordless Wednesday

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March 27, 2009

Friday Felicities

- A vacation from my Lemming World.
- Fat scars.
- Converse tennis shoes.
- BBQ Slaw
- Sunroofs on cars.
- Secret deodorant
- Candy coated fancy apples (it's fruit, people. don't judge.)
- Denim blue jeans in an obscenely unrealistic size that I never thought I would ever be able to fit in to - but do.
- Liberty minded folk.
- Making things right, and doing what I can to make amends.
- A brain.

February 18, 2009

I really...

wanted to write something....

.... poetic.
.... charming.
.... devastatingly funny.
.... brilliant.
.... silly.
.... informative.
.... useful.

Unfortunately? This is all I've got. And now that you can't get THOSE 32 seconds back, I'll bid you adieu. Goodnight. Farewell. Holla.

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