So today I’m trying to “lighten up” all the stuff I hang onto…which really is weighing me down. Think “if I were to live (by choice) in a van, what would fit? Do I really need all this stuff?”

While doing that “lightening up” I came across this gem. My first pair of running shorts from 2004. They are size “3 Extra Grande”…seriously that’s what the tag says! The only place I could get shorts to exercise was JCPenney.

As I hold these in my hand I am overcome with so many feelings. There is a bit a pride. I’ve come a long way and I do know that.  But I also feel sad, and I’m not sure why.  I work so hard not to see the fat girl in the mirror, but she’s always there. She fucking haunts me.

The self image struggles I have stem from her. She’s the bully in my life.  She’s every negative thought, every I can’t, every I’m not good enough, every I’m not even going to try.

But looking at these shorts, holding them in my hand I realize I am not my pants size. I wasn’t them and I’m sure as hell not now.

#beyourinnerrockstar