Hiding Sucks

This is my little niece sharing her
 "big belly."   I always learn a
thing or two from her. 

I’ve been brilliant at hiding for most of my life.  I mean, I was downright exceptional at not letting people see the real me. 

Why?  The truth was too scary: I. Was. A. Mess.  And I didn’t want anyone to think I was anything less than perfect.

There’s a reason why until recently, even the closest people in my life had no idea what was going on behind the scenes:

I was really, really good at it.

Call it a PK* skill, but hiding my struggles, and what was actually going on, just came naturally.  Not only did I not want to burden anyone with my little problems, I didn’t want anyone to know I had any problems.

It was so much safer for me to pretend that I was fine, everything was fine, in fact, darling, my life is just AMAZING! 

Q: “How’s the diet going?”

A: It’s going really well.  I’ve lost 2 pounds this week alone!

(In reality: I starved myself for 5 days eating nothing but soup broth, so last night I binged on a bowl of raw cookie dough, 3 giant blueberry muffins and an entire box of chocolate macadamia nuts.)

Q: “How’s your job in New York?”

A: I’m learning a ton, meeting incredible people!  It’s been such a great opportunity!

(In reality: I was told I’m losing my job next week and I’m completely falling apart.)

Q: “How’s married life?”

A: It’s so wonderful!  Blissful, just like everyone says.  

(In reality: My marriage is crumbling and I don’t know what to do.)

True story: When I finally ended my marriage, only two of my friends knew we were even having issues.  My family was in complete shock.  So were the rest of my friends.  I literally had to repeat myself several times to my mom because she couldn’t fathom what I was telling her.

I preferred to keep my problems to myself.   I would tell myself, I don’t need anyone.  I’ve got this.

That philosophy didn’t serve me well.  In fact, it was utterly exhausting. 

What I’ve now learned:

There is so much power in sharing your struggles with others.

There is so much power in knowing you’re not alone.

There is so much power in just being you.

Please don’t misunderstand.  I’m not advocating shouting your problems from the rooftops.  (Seriously, please don’t do that).    But, being open and honest about my struggles has opened the doors for others to relate, and for me to experience healing, acceptance, grace.     

I’m beyond lucky that I’ve found an AMAZING group of women with whom I can be completely authentically me.  And oddly, they still love me.  (Shout out to my P31 homies.  Love you ladies).

That’s what I wish for you, too.

*I’m a PK, aka Pastors Kid.  Yep. Right now, I bet all kinds of fun stereotypes are banging around in your head.

I Was A Little Nuttzo

This nut butter accurately sums up my past
behavior- it was a little nuttzo. Ha!
But seriously, this stuff is delicious.

For many years, I was on a tireless quest for the perfect EVERYTHING—career, marriage, house, life.  But I especially applied this relentless pursuit of perfection to my body. 

The good news is, I’ve made some HUGE progress in how I approach the loaded topic of weight loss.

It’s true that many of the times when I would punish myself by under-eating (lunch is 10 baby carrots!) and over-exercising (followed by a 3 mile run!), I didn’t even need to lose weight.  But that’s not what I advised myself.

What I was told: But you look so great!

What I actually heard: Blah blah blah!

In fact, I’ll give you a fun little glance into the utter madness that used to run through my head:

OHMYGOSH!!!!! These jeans are too tight!  I’m FAT!  So so so so fat! 

It’s. Time. To. Panic.  Commencing Operation FREAK OUT:

1. 5 day juice cleanse

2. Morning runs, nightly back-to-back spin classes

3. Diet pills and/or laxatives

4. Drink enough water so you run to the bathroom every 10 minutes

And, don’t forget, most important of all: Keep telling yourself how fat you are.

Yikes. 

I look back at this wacky behavior, and I want to give myself a hug.  What saddens me more than my Wild and Crazy Diet Extravaganza (Isn't that such a fun word? Oh darling, it's not a party, it's an Extravaganza!), is how awful I was to myself.   

This self-loathing, the complete obsession with being thin—how sad it must have made the one who created me.

I’ve been slowly learning to change the tape.  To stop talking to myself in such a hurtful way, and to instead show me some love.   To give myself some friggin grace.

So it was fitting when I came across a reminder from The Daniel Plan today:

This is a journey woven with grace and pace. Be gentle with yourself. God’s grace is always there, even when you are tired or tempted. Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. Isaiah 40:31

I still have my moments. But I'm learning to rest continually in God’s infinite love and grace.

Let's Talk About Food

Yes, I'm that girl.  I take pictures of my food.
But look at this thing (I forget what it is, some tartlet with figs):
are you kidding me with how beautiful it is?

I’d like to take a second to talk about food. 

Who am I kidding, I’d really like to take about 3 years to talk about food, but in the interest of moving on with my life, I’ll try to keep this brief.

Ahhh food.  So many emotions pop up when I think about you.  

Happy memories of baking candy cane-shaped sugar cookies every Christmas with my mom and sisters.  I’d crush actual candy canes and sprinkle them on top.  I realize now that lots of people do this, but as a kid, I thought I was a freaking genius.

Proud memories of making my first completely-from-scratch Thanksgiving Caramel Apple Deep Dish Pie.   Why yes, it was as amazing as it sounds.  In fact, it won our family pie contest, for which I was the totally unbiased judge.

Anxious memories of being so stressed out at my job in New York that on my way home one day, I ran into Momofuku Milk Bar (my mouth is salivating just thinking about this heavenly place) and ordered 3 giant cookies and 6 birthday cake truffles, telling the lady at the counter (who could care less) that they weren’t for me –oh no, ma’am—they were for a friend’s birthday.  I scarfed down the entire bag in the 3 blocks it took me to walk home.  

Sad memories of sitting on my couch and stuffing my face with Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream when I realized my marriage was over.

Stuffing is such a fitting word.  Stuffing my face, stuffing my feelings.  I would eat so I didn’t have to feel anything.  I would eat when I was happy, sad, bored, stressed, depressed.  And occasionally, when I was hungry.

Food was my drug.  My Good Girl drug of choice.  I didn’t smoke, I didn’t sleep around, I didn’t have any weird piercings (Confession: I may have gotten a tattoo when I was 19 that I now hate.  My mom was absolutely right). 

But I did like food a whole lot.  It was a totally legal secret that I struggled with for almost 20 years.

A friend asked me recently if I was on the other side.  I replied, Yes and No.

Yes, that food is no longer an all-consuming, overpowering, fanatical obsession that occupies my every waking thought.

No, that it’s still a daily struggle.  One that I am totally dependent on God to help me through.

My favorite devotional, Jesus Calling by Sarah Young, reminded me today:

“Thank me when things do not go your way, because spiritual blessings come wrapped in trials.  Rejoice in the face of hardship.” 

And this:

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds.” – James 1:2

 I have always had a problem with that verse.  Wait, you want me to do what?  Rejoice in my sufferings?  Uh, no thanks.

While this is not an easy thing to do (in fact, sometimes it’s so difficult I get downright pissed trying to do it), I understand it more now.

I used to think of this issue as a curse (Why God, why would you do this to me?), but now I’m seeing it as a blessing, as odd as that may sound. 

Two reasons:

1. I can’t do this by myself (I tried; that didn’t work out so well). It requires my daily surrender to God for help.

2. Being open and honest about my little secret has opened the door for so many others to share with me that they struggle with it too!

If you identify with this in any way, at the very least, I hope one thing is clear: you are not alone.  

Ok that came out a little creepy.  Here’s what I mean:  I get it.  And trust me, a LOT of other people get it.  And God--he gets it, too. 

To Compare is Divine. Just Kidding.

I woke up to this sunrise, isn't it ridiculously beautiful?  An original.  Just like each of us.
Sorry, I know that's reaching. I just really wanted to share this photo. ;)

When I compare myself to others, not only is it fun, it makes me feel so good. - Said no one ever

Ok I made that one up.  But I found some much better quotes by much wiser people.  

Comparison is the thief of joy. – Theodore Roosevelt

Stop comparing yourself to other people; you are an original.  We are all different and it’s ok.  – Joyce Meyers

Don’t compare yourself to anyone in this world… you’re just insulting yourself.  -Bill Gates

Such great advice.  Advice that I follow all the time.  Uh huh.  Sure I do.

It’s struck me that while I’ve suffered from I Suck Compared to Others Syndrome my whole life, lately, it's been rampant. 

It has a lot to do with where I am in my life at this moment.  Let’s just say, it’s not where I thought I’d be.  It’s not a bad thing.  I’m pretty happy with my life, actually.  But, there are always areas that could use improvement.

Like my body.  Over the holidays, I kinda took a little break from working out, and eating healthy (a tad embarrassing since I’m in Nutrition School).  So I’m not thrilled with how I look.  

And I have some beautiful friends.  Some really skinny, beautiful friends.  I love them to pieces, but sometimes—sometimes—ugh.  Just ugh.

I start comparing.  And once the comparisons start, my brain is all too delighted to kick into overdrive to help me find a plethora (oh SAT word, I finally get to use you!) of reasons why I don’t measure up.  

She’s so thin.  I bet she doesn’t eat cookies.  I should really stop eating cookies.

I wish I had her yoga-toned arms.  Mine look like jello.  Wobble wobble.

Her waist is so tiny!  Could my dress be any tighter?  I can barely breathe over here.  

And my apartment.  I used to own, but now I’m renting.  And while I’m grateful for my little space, it makes me feel sooooo behind.  Especially when my much younger sister’s best friend just bought a brand spankin’ new house.  Ouch.

I could go on and on.  But I won’t.  Because I need to stop. 

The problem with comparing, besides making me feel like complete crap, is that it invalidates me.  Imperfectly wonderful, hopelessly flawed, beautiful me.    

What is incredibly difficult for me to remember in those moments of comparing—because let's face it, it’s just so flipping EASY, isn’t it?—is that it’s perfectly fine to be me.   

Scratch that.  It’s fabulous, marvelous and dazzling to be me.

God made me exactly as I am, and he’s placed me exactly where I’m meant to be.  I’m working on not just accepting this, but reveling in it.  It’s time to stop criticizing, and start celebrating.  

So here’s to stopping the comparisons and focusing on the unique amazingness that is me, that is you, that is all of us.  (Side note: yes, I make up words.  All the time.  Welcome to my fun little world).

It's Not About Me

I mean, this is a really important question: should
I be spinning 2 or 3 times a week??!?

I’ve been spending a lot of time in my head lately.  Sometimes, it’s not a safe place.  Sometimes, it’s a one-way ticket to Crazy Town.

I have NOTHING to wear to this birthday party (as 14 perfectly capable dresses lay on my bed).   

Maybe I should take spinning 3 times a week instead of 2.   

How many likes did my post get on Facebook? 

If I don't accept this new client, how am I going to pay for my Europe vacation?

Me me me me me.

I always remember the first time I read the opening line of Rick Warren’s Purpose Driven Life: 

“It’s not about you.” BOOM.

I recall thinking, Waaaaait a second. WHAT?!?!

I was reminded by two quotes in my journal of all places, that maybe I needed to take a little vacation from My Head. (Side note: my journal is really special and has magical powers.  No joke.  But that’s a story for a different time).

“Life is not easy for any of us.  But what of that?  We must have perseverance and above all confidence in ourselves.  We must believe that we are gifted for something and that this thing must be attained.”  Marie Curie

“Each of you has received a gift to use to serve others.  Be good servants of God’s various gifts of grace.” 1 Peter 4:10 NIV

This world can make it pretty easy for me to think I’m the most important person in the universe.  (Please don’t misunderstand, I’m all for self-love and self-care.  I journal, take long walks, have a massage club membership and own 4 kinds of bath salts).

What am I doing about this little predicament?  I'm listening to the little nudges in my journal. I decided to get out of my head, and get out there and serve. So I signed up for two upcoming volunteer events.  

It's a start.  

I Hate Messy

I'm in the middle of cleaning out my closets.
I will try to embrace this Goodwill pile
that's driving me bonkers.

I hate messy. Even the word gives me shivers—it makes me want to bust out my container of cleaning supplies and go to town.

I LOVE organization.  I THRIVE with structure.  If it were up to me, everything would be tied up in a nice little box, with a pretty little bow, and placed its rightful location.

When something is out of place, it makes me very uneasy.  And I hate feeling uncomfortable.

But I was reminded in an awesome sermon last night that messy is our reality (oh how it hurts to admit this).  We live in it constantly, because that’s life.  It’ll never be completely clean or right or perfect (SURPRISE, that’s my favorite word).

And God expects the mess.  He wants us to get all up in it.

You’re probably wondering where the heck I’m going with this.  (Side note: I have A LOT of energy this morning, can you tell?  I’m literally bouncing off the walls.  I’m gonna blame the chia seeds I added to my green smoothie and the kick ass spin class that was so intense, it left me a bit overheated.  I apologize in advance to anyone who has to hang out with me today).

So I’m blogging.  Again.  And this new blog, it kinda sucks.  I don’t have it figured out yet.  I don’t like the fonts, the colors are a bit horrendous, I’ll probably change the background picture forty times.  I don’t even have a clear idea of exactly what I should write about. But I decided to just get it out there, in all its messy glory, and figure it out as I go along.  (Ok, deep breaths).  At least I'll be writing. 

This may seem ridiculous to you, but it’s a big step for me.  I can’t believe that I'm about to share this blog with you even though it's not yet totally PERFECT, and I haven’t run it by 100 of my closest friends for feedback before “going live.”  

So. Welcome to my mess.

www.kaleikekuna.blogspot.com 

My Verse of the Year

I was reading an article yesterday (how I wish I remembered which one but I’ve been reading so voraciously lately, I honestly couldn’t tell you) where the author shared that at the beginning of each new year, she chooses a theme, and in particular, a Verse for the Year.  

Well I looooove this idea.  And I promptly started thinking about which verse would be best for me.  A few candidates popped to mind immediately.  

I thought about Jeremiah 29:11, which was easily my theme for last year.  I thought about Philippians 4:8, which is one of my favorite verses of all time.  I thought really, really hard. 

And then I thought, you know, maybe I’d, like, pray about it. ;)

And lo and behold, this is the verse that was put on my heart.  

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.  In all your ways submit to him, and He will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6

That God of ours has quite a sense of humor.

Since I have the attention span of a small child, as exciting as this idea is, I was a bit concerned that I'd manage to forget about it all by tomorrow.  I really want to make sure that I keep this verse top of mind.  So I asked my good pal Google and found a really pretty poster with a beautiful forest-y background (the mountains are my happy place).  I saved it as the screensaver on my iphone, ipad, iPod, and laptop.  (Beware devices I haven't thought about yet--I'm coming for you, too).  I also printed it out and posted it around the house.  That should do it. 

I wanted to share this with you because I thought it was such a fun idea, but also because I wanted to share with you the verse I chose (let’s be honest, the verse God knew I needed).  

So if I ever seem to be in a panic over something—maybe gently remind me about this little verse of mine. :)

What's your Verse of the Year?