No one's fault but my own

Guess what this post ISN'T about?  Go ahead.  Guess.  I dare you. 

It's NOT about body love, body hate, food, exercise, or finding my motivation.  It's not about my journey to become fit, thin, in shape, or healthy.  Really.  I promise.  It's not. 

Well, not directly, anyway. 

I've just realized something tonight.  It literally hit me like a freight train barreling right smack into my skull, and I'm not sure how I've overlooked it for so long.  Somehow, I've become so caught up in trying to be a part of my community that I've actually lost sight of who *I* am.  I've tried to fit in.  I've tried to blend in.  I've tried to shove this square peg into what I perceived as a round hole for almost ten years now.  And with every step along the way, I've lost little pieces of Stacey Marie. 

The first step?  I chose to work diligently to not sound like an import.  My southern accent embarrassed me at times, although I have to admit that I do occasionally miss it now.  It was such a part of me for so long, but is long gone now.   In my experience, I found that some people thought it was cute, some people thought it was weird, and some people didn't think anything about it at all.  However, *I* didn't feel taken seriously in the business world when I was a young female with a hybrid Louisiana/Texas accent, so I got rid of it.  I worked very hard, and nowadays most people are shocked to find out that I actually grew up in the deep south.  This isn't really that big of a deal, but it was a step. 

Another distinct change that I can pinpoint is my laugh.  I have an amazing best friend (http://crazyjamie.com/ -- check her out!) who knew me before I made the conscious effort to change my laugh.  She still hears it on occasion, and always, always, ALWAYS tells me how much she loves it, but it wasn't her positive opinion that affected change in me.  Nope.  I do know that it was a very loud and noticeable guffaw.  I can remember going on a group date when I was 19 or 20 to a comedy movie.  It must have been funny, because let me tell you, I can't remember many times that I laughed harder.  I laughed until I cried.  I laughed until my belly ached.  I laughed until my cheeks hurt.  I laughed until...  well, until I heard my date whispering about how embarrassing my laugh was to his buddy seated on the other side of him.  Jamie's constant encouragement of my great laugh were mere whispers when compared to the whispered uncomfortableness of a date.  How does that work? 

For much of the past ten years or so, I've been chipping away at personality "quirks" that have seemed to make others uncomfortable.  I don't announce my presence when I walk in a room.  I don't say what I think when I think it.  I don't laugh loud and infectiously.  I don't tell jokes often.  I try not to be the "center of attention."  I don't sing (loudly and sometimes off key) often anymore.  I don't dance.  I don't hug my friends.  I don't invite people to dinner in my small and not-so-fancy house.  I basically don't do many things that I've felt have caused people around me to be uncomfortable, without regard to my own level of comfort.  I told myself it was maturity.  I think I may have told myself a lie.

You know what else I've done?  I've remained loyal to people who treat me poorly.  People who have unknowingly crushed my spirit on multiple occasions.  People who have told me that I'm dumb and ignorant (but not those exact words, and always said with a smile).  People who have completely different moral outlooks on life, family, and friendship.  I'm loyal to a fault, and I need to rediscover loyalty to one's own self.  Loyalty doesn't do me any good if I allow those relationships to continue to squelch who I really am.

I have nothing bad to say about anyone.  This is on me.  These are choices I alone am responsible for.  I have allowed this slow degradation of my personality and person.  I've tried too hard to please people and allowed me to lose myself in the process of trying to fit in.

I deserve a better life than that.  My kids deserve a better example than that. 

I'm done trying to fit.  I'm unique.  I'm fun.  I'm loud.  I'm weird.  I have an odd sense of humor.  I'm strong.  I laugh a lot, and when I do, it's loud and sometimes contagious.  I'm smart.  I'm a good judge of character.  I'm loyal.  I'm a good friend.  I'm fearfully and wonderfully made, and it's about time that I embrace that.  Again.

And even though this post isn't about health and weight loss, it really kind of is.  You see, it's hard to find yourself in a healthy place when you are literally burying your person alive.  In this archeological digging, I'm unearthing a healthier, more whole, more secure Stacey.  It's all related.  This is just part of the journey, and I'm glad you're here with me because it's quite the ride!