All’s Well that Ends Well

Beautiful. That was New York, in a word. I didn’t expect that to be the word I would use to describe New York. I thought it would be ‘throbbing’ or ‘face-paced’ or ‘turgid’ and it was all of those things, which is what made it so beautiful. I spent 4 days in awe of all the beauty. Beautiful clothes, beautiful people, beautiful sights, beautiful scenery. 4 days in awe, 4 days being present, 4 days in gratitude, feeling loved and supported and lucky.

4 days of beauty.

The trip wasn’t what I thought it was going to be. I thought it was going to be about my weight and my body issues. It wasn’t at all. It was about love. Giving myself permission to love myself and finally see my money for what it really is: a nurturing supportive and loving conduit to help me reach my goals and desires. It wasn’t about the shopping. It was about claiming my place in this world, about not postponing my life until I have more money or lose more weight; it’s about throwing my hat in the ring, about earning the satisfaction of knowing that I jumped into the game.

Life is not meant to be lived on the sidelines.

I am ready to make peace with my money. I am ready to stop punishing myself. I am ready to stop denying myself love. I am ready to treat it well, to nurture and love it, and ask that it do the same with me.

So many years I have spent hatinghatinghating and using money to punish and deprive myself, giving it so much power. I am ready to disarm and disable its power. I am ready to frame my choices in a positive way and continue to be present and grateful in all areas of my life (and least endeavour to.) And most importantly, I am ready to take the action steps needs to make sure that happens!

I am ready to live my life.

Have I said all of this before? Yes. Will I say it again? Maybe, but the trip was a great reminder of my place in the world. Today I feel centred, grounded and focused, more than I have in a really long time. I let money have this power over me; I let my identity be defined by it. Money keeps me off-kilter. If I have it, it feels wrong; if I don’t, I feel entitled. It’s fucked-up shit.

Here’s what I feel today, after 4 glorious days in New York – an overwhelming sense of relief, and the reminder that I am a fucking colossus.

Everything you’ve ever heard about New York is true. It is a state of mind, a feeling. For me, it was about enjoying where I was at when I was at it. Doing all the stuff I love; it was about balance and appreciation and gob-smacking adulation.

Really, New York. Thank you.

I Think I'm Ready

"We don't want to eat hot fudge sundaes as much as we want our lives to BE hot fudge sundaes."

~Geneen Roth

It has been a month since I took a business course called the Entrepreneur Bootcamp. My life has completely changed since then. Completely. I have never felt more free; I had a major breakthrough with my relationship with money and how I have always used it to get my needs met around love. I attracted 6 new clients and made $17,000 in sales, allowing me to address most of my pressing, scary, edge-of-the-cliff money and debt concerns. I got clarity and insight on how to effectively run my business and I organized a six-day retreat in the mountains to help my clients get started on their dream of becoming published authors.

I wrote an e-book and started my third book, one on dating which I have realized will be therapy for me more than help for anyone else.

I spent 3 weeks with my dad, a prince among men, learning what true giving and unconditional love is all about.

It's a beautiful thing.

Best, this past month has opened up the craggy hole in my heart and let light burst through. I have been able to let go of my death grip on money, share the wealth, help others and gladly, happily, joyfully share my love.

It's a beautiful thing.

I have been doing lots of work around my beliefs surrounding money, so I can make sure to stay in gratitude and flow. "I have plenty to spare and to share" has become my mantra of late, whereas before I was taking a more Gollum approach 'It's mine, mine, mine. There is not enough to go around.' And there never was.

All this is leading me to a place I thought I had long abandoned. I feel like I am finally ready to address and release my weight. Once and for all. I have taken a long, LONG break from it, feeling it better instead to nurture and comfort myself. I thought if I ever take another run at the weight loss game that it would be from a place of love, forgiveness and acceptance. I knew that in order for me to be successful, I would need a radical, new, different approach.

And along came this book by Geneen Roth called 'Women Food and God.' Now, as most of you know, I'm not a big fan of God. The semantics, anyway. I really prefer to call it The Universe, although I realize that whatever name you give it, it's all the same power. So I substitute God for the Universe and try and put away all of my misgivings surrounding The Big Guy.

Roth's angle is basically the following: The way you eat is inseparable from your core beliefs about being alive.

Uh-oh.

Your relationship with food is an exact mirror of your feelings about love, fear, anger, meaning, transformation and, yes, even [the Universe.]

Here is an exceprt:

"Pay attention to the way you eat. You will quickly discover if you believe the world is a hostile place and that you need to be in control of the immediate universe for things to go smoothly. You will discover if you believe there is not enough to go around and that taking more than you need is necessary for survival. You will find out if you believe that being quiet is unbearable, and that being alone means being lonely. If feeling your feelings means being destroyed. If being vulnerable is for sissies or if opening to love is a big mistake. And you will discover how you use food to express each one of these core beliefs."

I'm only on page 17, so I'll let you know how it goes. So far, I can only stomach (haha!) about 2 pages at a time. But I can tell already that she's going to help me.

I can feel the shift already.

Great Expectations

I think the foundation of any relationship is built on two things: the first is communication and the second is on managing expectations. Attaching too much onto a relationship is a recipe for disaster; not enough and suddenly you’re settling.

I have a confession: I suffer from obscenely high expectations. I always have. My whole life has been about gauging and checking my unfair, unrealistic expectations to avoid spending all of my time in a permanent state of disappointment.

I have learned over the years to temper my crushing perfectionist tendencies with realism. I used to be hard both on myself and those around me. I see now that this was done out of deep insecurity and crippling loneliness. Thank goodness I was blessed with really solid and stalwart friends who always saw past that insecurity and took the time to get to the goods...for there was always much good to get to.

Nowadays, what constitutes a good friendship for me? Two words: low maintenance. And I am not talking about a no maintenance friendship; just LOW. That doesn’t mean I don’t invest time and energy; that means that we don’t get trapped in a cycle of defensive over-explanation.‘Cause here’s another thing: relationships change. They are constantly evolving. In my opinion, good friendships are about learning to go with the flow. And my role as your friend is to make your life easier and smooth out the bumpy patches in the road. I think that friendships should enrich and enhance our well-being; a good friend offers support, compassion, understanding and sometimes a little kick in the pants. Duh.

In my 30s, I don’t care to surround myself with people who pull guilt trips or have expectations of me that I simply can’t or won’t meet. I know some of my oldest and dearest friends will probably find this last statement laughable. Ha! Because I’ll admit it, back in the day, I owned my own 'Unrealistic' tiara and 'Expectations' scepter. (Truth be told, I was Miss Queen GUILT TRIP 1995.) I put a great deal of pressure on my friendships to be my be-all and end-all; I looked to them to fulfill a need in me and put an unnecessary burden on them to ‘complete me’. Yes, really. Bottom line: I’ve learned. Bottom line: I grew up. Bottom line: I’m 34.

So the irony is not lost on me that I have recently attracted friends in my life who are a mirror for who I used to be. I get it, Universe. Ha.ha. And I am trying to take that same compassion that was generously bestowed upon me and pay it back. But it's hard. And I am stuck between deperately trying to maintain my image (another no-no, I know), managing expectations--both my own and others'--and the stark reality of my situation.

The truth is, my situation has changed drastically esp. these last 9 months. It is a permanent change; I am working to improve it and make it better, but until then, I really need friends around me who get it, who support me and who check the guilt trip at the door. My priorities have shifted. And if I were to throw the shutters open on my life and be PERFECTLY HONEST, I hide how bad the situation really is, even from my boyfriend. It is my dark secret.

I feel like I am stuck in some Poor Man's Limbo--caught between being a victim and telling the truth.

Maybe I should just draft a letter up right here and right now.

Dear Friends,
I am broke. Just thought you should know.
Thanks,
k.


I am frustrated and most of all, I am deeply ashamed. My self-worth has always been wrapped up in my net worth. So it is a daily struggle for me to feel worthy when I am worthless. Money is a most deadly and complicated affair for me—I would say it is even more detrimental to me that my relationship with food. I can't maintain the same lifestyle I used to have. I can't afford big, fancy meals and epic nights out at the bar. And you know what? I'm fine with that part of it. That is my choice and I'm sorry if it doesn't jive with your free-wheelin' lifestyle. Do I miss it? Hell yes. Do I want to sacrifice my well-being for it? Not on your life.

So, you can shift along with me, or not. The choice is yours.

Climate is what we expect, weather is what we get.
~Mark Twain

******
And like you, E, I hesitate to post this, 'cause gah. 'Cause I don't want sympathy or platitutes--and I certainly am not asking for help; I'm just tired of hiding it.

The Green Coat

Nikolai Gogol has this beautiful short story called ‘The Overcoat.’ I read it in University. I still remember it. That’s the thing about the Russians: they write stories that stick to your ribs.

Basically it’s the story of a poor government clerk—Akaky—whose threadbare coat is the butt of his colleagues’ jokes. Finally exasperated, he decides to get the coat repaired. The tailor declares the coat irreparable, and tells Akaky he must buy a new coat.

The cost of a new overcoat is beyond Akaky's meagre salary, so he forces himself to live within a strict budget to save enough money to buy the new overcoat. Finally, with an unexpectedly large holiday salary bonus, Akaky has saved enough money to buy a new overcoat!

His boss decides to host a party honouring the new overcoat. Akaky goes home from the party, far later than he normally would. En route home, two ruffians confront him, take his coat, kick him down, and leave him unconscious in the snow.

God Bless the Russians and their feel-good stories.

Feeling particularly down and out, I made the mistake of going to the mall the other day. I have gained weight, none of my clothes fit and I am so poor that it would not be out of the question for me to press my nose up against a store-front window and beg, “Please sir, can I ‘ave some more?’

It’s masochistic, going shopping without money, but I did it anyway, happy for the mindless distraction. As I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, I came across the most ravishing Spring Coat. It was green. It made me look like a million bucks. I had no intention of buying it, but I also couldn’t bring myself to take it off. It looked that good. I walked around the store, unable to part with it. In a flourish, I bought it and took it home and slept with it nestled beneath my chin.

Of course, I had to take it back.

I know it’s just a coat, but it made me feel good. I know it’s just a coat, but I feel like I have been working hard and I deserve it. I know it’s just a coat, but my identity and self-worth are inextricably linked with the size of my body and the size of my wallet.

I know it’s just a coat, but returning it felt like I was rejecting and denying a part of myself.

The retail ruffians took my coat, kicked me down and left me unconscious in the store.

I cried the whole way home.