Inner Critic

Image Source

I am reading a book by Geneen Roth called Women, Food and God. It is a very interesting read. In part of her book she talks about something she calls The Voice. I think we often call it our inner critic or other such things. Basically it is the voice in your head that keeps you down. You know, that little voice in your head that tells you you're too fat, too ugly, too stupid, a worthless waste of space?

For me, learning to combat this critic has been essential to my progression toward self love. For many of us (dare I say nearly all of us), this little critic is a powerful force that keeps us from trying new things. It keeps us from loving ourselves. This voice is responsible for our self hatred.

The Voice is developed from an early age. It starts out as a way to keep us from doing things that are socially unacceptable (like burping loudly in public). Our experiences help shape this voice. Then over time it evolves into the critic that convinces us we aren't good enough. We don't question this voice. We just accept that what it says is true. We convince ourselves that this critic is just trying to keep us safe and is speaking in our self intrest.

So what do we do about this? I think the first thing we need to do is take a step back and question this voice. Would you allow anyone else to talk to you that way? Would you speak to anyone else that way? When the voice tells you that you are as large as a rhinocerous take a minute to think. A rhinocerous? Really? Have you ever seen a rhinocerous? Obviously your voice is exaggerating. Maybe it's not as credible as you've always thought.

The next step for me has been to argue back. I know, it sounds a little odd, but it is really working for me. When I look in the mirror and the critic starts to tell me that my eyebrows just aren't good enough it helps for me to remind myself that there isn't a whole lot I can do to change the shape of my eyebrows. They are good just like they are. I am thankful I have eyebrows.

Taking a step back to remember that we are enough just as we are is important to keeping the voice at bay. Continue to talk nice to yourself. Internal dialogue is incredibly powerful. I love this comment that I got from a reader. Dani wrote:

I think it is important to understand that sometimes we have to say something to believe it. "sometimes we don't know we know something until we say it". We weren't born to think we are "fat, ugly, or an outcast. We learn it, whether it be from peers or family somebody taught us that we are those things.


So keep talking nicely to yourself, even if you aren't completely convinced. Over time the inner critic quiets down. My inner critic isn't gone yet, I doubt it will ever totally disappear. But I am getting really good at shutting her up when she starts to be critical. Life is too short to miss out on things because of a false belief that we just aren't good enough.

Learning to love yourself as you are is a lot of work, but it is probably the most worthwhile thing you can do.

The scale will not be my master anymore

Yesterday I finally broke down and went down to the doctor. I was really dizzy. My ears were drumming. So I had my husband drive me (rather than endanger the world with my dizzy driving).

As is the custom of doctor's offices I needed to stand on a scale at the beginning of the appointment. I have been very careful to avoid scales for the last few weeks. I have been trying to turn my attention to how my body feels, rather than how it looks.

I thought about stepping on backward. Then I would never know. . . but then there is a part of me that is still concerned with such things as weight. So I didn't. Besides. I was confident that the numbers would read lower than they did the last time I was on a scale.

They weren't lower.

And I had a moment of panic. For one fleeting moment I thought I should start a new diet. Summer is around the corner, how can I take my son to the pool without first dropping some weight? How can I successfully instruct yoga without losing some weight? How can I be a good wife if I don't lose some weight?

For one moment I thought of all the things that I could do to drop weight. I could set up some rules. Restrict certain foods. Exercise more (aka kill myself at the gym).

But the moment was rather fleeting. It passed quickly. And I realized that I didn't want to step back in to that lifestyle.

The most exciting part? I shrugged off my weight like it didn't matter. I had my moment of "oh no" and then moved on. I sent myself some love. Said it was okay that I wasn't dropping pounds left and right. I acknowledged that I felt thinner (I have lost inches even if I haven't lost pounds). But more than feeling thinner, I felt healthier than I have in a while (other than my exploding ear drums that is).

Ladies and gentlemen, I had a break though moment. A moment where I observed myself exactly where I am and decided that I am enough. Nothing needs to change. I'm okay with being me, and I'm okay with where being me is at right now.

So it is possible. Learning to love ourselves. I'm happy to say that I think I'm getting it down finally. Because I'm beautiful just the way I am. And I deserve love. So do you.

Lessons about food from my toddler

Yesterday I couldn't get my little one to eat. I tried everything, but he just wanted his sippy cup. I was happy to see him staying hydrated, but was concerned that he wouldn't eat more than a few bites of anything.

Cormac has been sick lately, but the last two days had been on the mend. So his lack of appetite was concerning for me. Tack on the fact that he is P.I.C.K.Y. when it comes to food (I don't know where he gets it; I was always such a good eater. . . sorry Mom for putting you through that) and you get one stressed out mom. I was sure I was starving him to death.

He wasn't the only one without an appetite yesterday. I didn't want to eat anything. Food just seemed unappetizing and yucky. But I was sick. I knew what was wrong with me. And if I decided not to eat than it way my own business. Besides, how was I expected to eat when I was sure my ear drum was going to burst if it hadn't already. I was so sure that it was okay for me not to eat. I knew what I was doing. I am learning to become an intuitive eater and if my body didn't want food than it was just fine.

But Cormac needed to eat.

Because I'm an adult.

And I knew better.

Last night after putting Cormac to bed I was sure he would wake up in the middle of the night starving. I was sure I should have tried harder to get him to eat something. Anything.

This morning when I woke up I was hungry. My appetite had returned. My body is still not healed, but whatever was going on yesterday had eased and it was time to fuel my body.

And Cormac? He slept great last night. And he woke up hungry too. He ate a good breakfast. Not as much as I though he would, but then I think his recent growth spurt has slowed as well.

As I was thinking about food and bodies this morning I realized how silly I had been trying to force Cormac to eat. There is a lot about intuitive eating that I am still getting used to. And there is a lot that I can learn from him. We are born intuitive eaters. We are in touch with our bodies right from the start. It's over time that we learn how to stop listening.

So while being a mom is hard, and I will probably always stress when he is not eating as well as I think he should, I am going to try to ease up and allow my son to always stay in touch with his own body. If he feels he has had enough then who am I to tell him otherwise? And maybe I can get just as in touch with my own body someday.

For Women

A few years ago (well, okay it is now more than "a few" but it only feels like it was a few) I lived in Ufa, Russia for 9 months. I was there teaching English as a volunteer. It was a wonderful experience.

Little Russian snow baby. I wish I had an outfit like this for my son.

The snow sculptures in Ufa are truly awe inspiring.

This makes me shudder. Palmeni was not my favorite. Especially for breakfast.

My students, minus the two boys.

We spent time at an orphanage a few times while we were there. The kids were so much fun.

The first semester I lived with a host family, this was my little sister, Adela.

Two of my fellow volunteers. We had too much fun together, and we clearly didn't fit on this slide well.

Now this was something that was truly delicious. It's hard to go wrong with so much deep fat fried goodness. Paroshkee, yum.

My Americans, second semester: Me, Stephanie, Heidi, Rachel, Megan, Nicole. This was after we had gone cave spelunking with a crazy guide named Oleg.

One of my students. This was the most advanced class. We had kindergartners on up. This was the whole group except Tiger, who was taking the picture.

And no trip to Russia would be complete without seeing St. Petersburg, this is Catherine's Palace.

And also Moscow. This is St. Basil's.

Sorry for the picture overload. I would love to share a million more, but perhaps I'll save it for another day. My time in Russia was amazing. Though it was difficult to be a 19 and then 20 year-old away from home, family, and my own country, it was an amazing experience.

So why am I sharing all this today? Well, today happens to be International Women's Day. Which happens to be a really, really, really big deal in Russia. I found Russians to be rather reserved for the most part, except on this particular day when total strangers would congratulate me for being a woman. My students showered me with gifts. The entire city of Ufa was in celebration of the women in their lives.

On this day when I was in Russia I truly felt like it was pretty awesome to be a woman. Not that I feel contrary to that on other days. The truth is, most days I don't think about it. That's just what I am. But on March 8th I like to remember how great it is to be a woman.

So. . . to all the amazing women out there: Happy Women's Day! I hope you feel special today because you truly are. If you don't have someone to buy you flowers today, go get yourself some. Because you are a woman. And today is our day. Make it special.

Changing the world: Self Love as a Revolutionary Act

Image Source

So I'm on this path to become an intuitive eater. I'm making progress. But it certainly doesn't happen over night. I was first intrigued with the idea of intuitive eating back in August, however I wasn't really ready to embrace it yet. It was a radical change in thinking for me. One I wanted to make, but wasn't really there yet. And even though I'm still learning the ins and outs of intuitive eating, and even though I still have to really think about it my mind is in the right place and I'm converted.

A funny thing conversion. Once someone becomes truly converted to a cause they become passionate about that thing. They want to share it with the world and convert everyone else. I too have had these feelings. Any time I hear a friend or family member speak of how they are counting calories or doing this or that diet I want to tell them how wrong they are. I want to explain to them that there is a better way. I want to show off all my new knowledge about how dieting is destroying our bodies. I forget that a few short months ago I too was not ready for intuitive eating.

I heard on the news yesterday that they have come up with a new diet fad. It's a pacemaker for your stomach. Apparently after you eat some food it sends a signal to your brain to tell you you are full. Um. . . did you know that we already have those mechanisms in place? We are born with them. We just stopped listening.

Then I hear about things like bariatric (weight loss) surgery. Great idea. Go to sleep and wake up thinner. Except that the health "complications" that come after the surgery are truly horrifying. You have to live the rest of your life like that, you can never go back. And often that life is cut short as a result of the surgery. What about the HCG diet? Well, I know people that are having strokes because of it. Younger than me. And most of the people are gaining back all the weight.

Every new diet hurts our body. It causes so much damage. Even calorie counting and exercise is damaging. The only true way to be healthy is to listen to your body's cues. But I need to back off, because, once again, this is a radical thought that can be too much for those not ready to hear it.

I have been reading Health at Every Size (which I highly recommend and no I'm not getting paid to tell you that). She points out that we've already lost the "war on obesity." Every new generation is a little taller, yet we haven't waged a war on height. As we evolve and our circumstances change so do our bodies. But being "overweight" isn't really as dangerous as many (those who stand to profit from it) have led us to believe.

But I digress, what I really wanted to share from that book was this:

"Self-love may be the most revolutionary act you can engage in. A person who is content in his or her body--fat or thin--disempowers the industries that prey on us and helps rewrite cultural mores."

What a way to say it. What we really need in this world is a lot more self-love. When we learn to love and appreciate our bodies we will also learn to take care of them. We will learn to listen and trust our bodies. God gave us all the tools that we need to be healthy (and that includes maintaining a healthy weight). But we have to tune out the noise and learn to listen again.

So I'm converted. And if you would ever like to learn more about this new lifestyle I would love, love, love to share of my knowledge. And I'll try to remember that preaching won't change the world.

If you are a convert to this lifestyle too and are struggling with how to balance your beliefs with those of family and friends I recommend this article.

Just Breathe

We have had so much going on here at my house. . . too much in fact. With two large projects in the works life has been busy. I'm trying to keep up with small things too such as laundry, dusting, blogging, scouts, my personal yoga practice. Cormac has been sick. And I'm officially run down. The exhaustion has set in.

So yesterday night I had had enough and declared it an early-bedtime night. The hubby and I were tucked in bed by 9:30. Within 1 minute Ammon's breathing had slowed and he was already drifting in dream land. I so wish I could fall asleep that fast. As I snuggled up to him and tried to sleep I couldn't keep my mind from the millions of places it was going. How was I going to find time for all of it. I needed to go grocery shopping. What about the dishes? What color to paint the shop? So many things to think about.

After about 15 minutes I was beginning to panic. This usually happens with me when I'm trying to get some rest and am busy. I've struggled with insomnia for years. It has been much better recently (having a baby and being a mom wears you out). But as the time continued to tick, and I continued to be awake I started to worry that I wasn't going to get to sleep. Then I would have to run on empty the next day as well.

I tried talking myself down. Nothing was going to get done right then. If I wanted to be more productive tomorrow it was important that I allow my body to rest.

Still my mind wandered. Still I panicked that I wasn't sleeping.

It was after about 30 minutes of this that I decided to take some wisdom from yoga. I began to breathe. Okay, so I had been breathing the whole time, but I began to be conscious of it. When my mind wandered I acknowledged the thought and put it away in the file cabinet of my mind to be dealt with tomorrow. Then I breathed some more.

In. Out. In. Out.

After about 5 minutes I realized that I had calmed down and had been drifting in and out of dream land. It was amazing how calm, relaxed, and ready for sleep I was. And yesterday morning I woke up refreshed for the first time in weeks.

In case you are struggling some night and need to calm down and relax I will share with you the pattern of breathing I used. I inhaled for a comfortable amount of time. For me that is 4 seconds. Then I exhaled the same amount of time. I allowed my breathing to be equal until it was comfortable and natural. Then I extended my inhale by one second. In for 4 seconds, out for 5. After a little while at this rate I bumped it up to 6 seconds out. Keeping the inhale where it was. Worked like a charm.

The power of our breath is absolutely incredible. Why do you think they teach women going into labor how to breathe? It's that powerful. Try it out. Just taking a few minutes each day to breathe consciously can help you manage stress and anxiety in powerful ways.

Accepting that my buns will never be steel

Image Source

I bought a gym membership because my doctor thought it would be a good idea for me to start swimming. I have a horrible back. It has gotten to the level of constant pain (on a side note, I think this could be helped with yoga, but I'm so busy, so so busy that I usually only get in about 30 minutes of yoga a day). I walked into the gym and instantly felt bad about myself.

For the next few weeks I worked out every day. Sometimes twice a day. I just knew that if I worked out hard enough in no time I would look like the girls I imagined were shunning me. I ignored the sore feelings all over my body. The ones that made it difficult to life up my baby boy. I even imagined my back was getting better (it was not).

Cormac was allowed to stay in the day care for 90 minutes. I felt that I had to work hard the entire hour and a half. If I went to an hour long class that left 30 minutes for some self punishing. But some days I was so so tired. But if I couldn't do the work outs I would never be able to change. And I would be a failure. How hard could it be? Other people did it.

But after a series of horrible ear infections that Cormac managed to get every single time I'd take him to the day care we decided to take some time off. I think that's when I realized how incredibly burned out I was. Working out was awful. I hated it. I just wanted to lay around and never move again.

I tried going back to the gym a few times, but I would usually give up after a few days. It was too hard.

Yes, it's safe to say that sometimes I am hypocritical. I tell you all about how I'm trying to love my body where it is, but then I would go to the gym for a punishing 90 minutes after which I'd put the baby down for a nap and do at least another 30 minutes at home. But the only thing I was gaining was more and more injuries. And I really wasn't losing much weight, if any. I stop abusing food to abuse exercise. When I'm not abusing either of those I move on to money or obsessive house cleaning.

Learning to love yourself is hard work. For me learning all the different things I do to hide from dealing with my insecurities has been particularly difficult.

But I digress.

So I had stopped going to the gym or working out at all. But one day it was warm out. And sunny. And oh how I want Spring. So I put my little one in his stroller and out we went. It felt good. As I walked I started tuning in to my body. I loved the way it felt to walk and move. I realized how much I truly love to walk. Moving my body didn't have to be all punishment.

I finally decided to go back to a kick boxing class one day. After the class I would go home. No guilt over the last 30 minutes I didn't spend working out. That evening I did a nice 15 minute relaxing yoga routine to stretch out after the class and help avoid the aching in my body. I felt great.

I've come to the realization that little things add up. Getting a little physical activity in each day is  far more beneficial to my health than killing myself for a few days/weeks in a row then taking a few months to recover.

So even though I may never have buns of steel (who wants to sit on steel anyway?) I can have an incredibly healthy heart and enjoy my body.