Almost five months have passed since I last visited my blog, although I still check all of your guys's blogs every day. I can't say that I've been up to much or that I've made big changes in the way I eat or anything else. I still have two jobs (feeding fruit flies, working front desk at a hotel), I still struggle with finances, I still struggle with controlling my eating habits and food cravings, I still agonize over my future custody of my brother, I still forget to remind myself that I am worthy, and valued, and loved. I still don't know what I want to do with myself (law school's out, master's in sustainable agriculture might be in), and I'm still frustrated that I don't have it all planned out. I did join a gym at the budget-busting price of $40/month, and I still complain about it even though I know it's worth it. And even though I have the membership, I still fail to make time for exercise in my sometimes chaotic, always exhausting 45-50 hour work week. I still don't get enough sleep, still don't spend enough time with my boyfriend, and still wrestle with my impatient and impulsive nature.
But somehow, I find myself far happier with my life than I was last year or even at the time of my last post. I've recently spent a lot of time reflecting on my emotional growth. I told my boyfriend the other day that it's only in the past couple of years that my life has actually become about me and what I want instead of being about my family and what they need, want, and demand from me. I have grown from a girl who was depressed, angry, emotionally abused, and who used to beg God to kill her in her sleep so she wouldn't have to deal with any of it again into a woman who is happy, confident, enthusiastic about her future and knows her worth. That growth has taken me almost a decade, but I made it and I'm still growing. Some days are much, much harder to get through than others but I can look back to where I've come from and console myself with the knowledge that it can only get better because I finally love myself - impulsiveness, insecurities, belly rolls and all.
To be honest, losing weight hardly ever occupies my thoughts anymore because I know it will eventually happen as a result of the process of emotional healing I've been going through over the past few years. I know it will take time - every kind of change takes time. During the process, I have to work on being kind to myself. I may be tired and stressed, but I no longer call myself fat, lazy, or stupid. I may be hungry and rushed, but I know a Taco Bell quesadilla will make me feel sluggish and bloated whereas a salad from that restaurant that uses local food will make me feel energized and proud of myself. And even if there is a day where I choose Taco Bell over a salad, that doesn't make me a failure or a bad person. At most, it makes me human.
For me, happiness is going to stem from finding joy in growth, from embracing the process of change. And since it's always fun to end a blog post with a worn out cliche, I think we all need to remind ourselves from time to time that what's important isn't the destination - it's the journey.
With love, until we meet again,