I have a theory that New Year’s resolutions happen not because of the idea of a fresh start, but rather because many people get time off around this time of year and so actually have half a second to reflect and decide where their lives need a readjustment (usually in that few days between Christmas and New Years where you’re not even sure what year it actually is any more). I’m someone who frequently freely admits her life is looking rather like a Picasso painting. The difference is that mine isn’t so much artful creativity/a masterpiece as it is just a mess of things happening at once. In saying that, this year has involved a lot of careful thinking and restructuring. This has been out of necessity rather than want, but it has given me some ideas about the coming year and which areas of my life need retuning. A lot of these affect the content I’m going to be bringing to you for 2019, so with that in mind I hope you’ll join me on a deep dive into the attitudes I’m planning to readjust in the coming year.
There are different ways of fighting yourself. Maybe it’s that your mind pulls you in multiple directions at once. Maybe it’s that you want to push your body to limits it just won’t go. Maybe it’s that you’re trapped in a skin you don’t think belongs to you. Or maybe it’s that your body literally attacks itself from the inside out. Whatever the form it takes, if you’ve ever felt like screaming in frustration when someone tells you to “love yourself” then you’ll understand where I’m coming from.
The world tells us that self-love is important. That any problem you have can be fixed if you just learn to love yourself. It’s a concept that makes a lot of sense, but when people use it as some throwaway line as though doing some yoga or eating a few more greens or getting someone who may or may not be being paid at a legally appropriate wage to stick some acrylics on your fingernails would fix the problem, it’s hard not to get frustrated. Loving yourself comes easy to some people. To others it does not.
I wish I had a snappy and entertaining introductory line for you all today, but alas I’m currently suffering from a cold that’s making me feel like my head is 99% fluid so I’m afraid my brain power is somewhat limited. If you haven’t already seen my review series on Sukha Life (or have no idea what the heck Sukha Life actually is), then firstly I’d recommend you go check out my first post here detailing the business and why I chose to try it, then check out my post here reviewing the first couple of days’ meals. Today I’m going to take you through the last three days’ worth of food and sum up my overall thoughts about the process. It’s a long one so let’s get straight to it!
So you know those times where you have an awesome plan of attack in your head and it all rapidly goes to heck to such a degree that you can’t remember what your plan actually was in the first place? Were you going to elope to Ecuador? Or did you just need to pick up milk from the shops? Could be either. Well that was the kind of week I started having – d’oh! In saying that, having my first few days of Sukha Life delivered definitely made it easier. If you haven’t heard of Sukha Life before, click here to read my introduction to this review series which contains general information about the brand and why I gave them a try. If you already read that, then read on to learn about the foods I’ve been stuffing my face with the past couple of days!
Food addiction. Do those words sound like absolute bollocks invented by the media to you? Fair enough. Sit down my friends and allow me to introduce you to my world.
I have a shocking announcement for you – I’m a fat person. I know, I know, try to hold back your incredulity. It’s a fact. I am in excess of 30+ kilos overweight and it’s literally killing me.
When you look at me, you will know that I am a fat person, but you may not think it’s that big of a deal.
“But Steph,” people so often exclaim, “you don’t look that big!”
While I thank you for your flattering observation, the fact remains that I am marching myself towards death by Type 2 Diabetes at a really rapid pace.
“Well!” I hear you huff behind your computer screens. “Do something about it then!” I couldn’t agree more. And here, dear reader, is where I need you to understand a few things.
As I’m writing this, it is 7:21am on a Monday morning. As with every Monday morning, I dragged myself forcefully out of bed about eighty-one minutes ago. I had, as always, intended on being up far earlier than that, but last night was the usual cycle of panicking about the coming week and consequently not being able to sleep, leading to me panicking about not being able to sleep and therefore continuing the painfully awake loop. Thus it was under duress that I forced my weary feet onto the floor after tossing aside the sheets soaked in my sweat from the nightmares that came when I did finally fall asleep for a meagre few hours. As I rub my eyes and try to focus on the bleary screen in front of me, the same thought permeates my mind:
On more than one occasion in life, someone has (without warning or a great deal of context) referred to me as a “strong independent woman”. On more than one occasion, I have had to tilt my head to one side as I try to figure out if they’re being patronising or not. About 50% of the time, they are.
We live in a modern society that preaches a strange dichotomy. Women are raised on the traditional diet of fairy tales and chick flicks that teach us that we should have our hero riding in on a white horse at any moment, but we also have this newly emerging viewpoint telling us that we don’t need no man and we’re queens in our own right. All very well and good, but ultimately a confusing contradiction. I imagine (though I cannot possibly speak from experience) that men suffer a similar problem, not just in portrayals of masculinity, but also in what they’re told to be attracted to. Is it the traditional damsel in distress they like feeling that they can help (not necessarily a bad thing), or is it the strong independent woman who exudes confidence and assurance (also not a bad thing)?
So how-to-girls, I think we need to have a chat. Namely, I think we need to have a chat about how we chat about birth control.
Picture this: you’re a virgin, but you decide you’re ready for the next step. Although you intend to use condoms, you’ve done your research and you know there’s a possibility that they could tear or fall off, so you decide you’d better protect yourself a little more. So who do you turn to for advice?
We may spend hours googling the different options as our brains slowly explode from information overload, but ultimately we’re probably going to end up turning to the ladies around us and say “So, what do you find is good for you?”