The Zen Leaf

Writer vs Author

Posted on September 4, 2015 by Thistle

This week, I quit the paralegal course I’ve been taking this year. I had no desire to continue in this field, and while the decision was difficult, I feel much lighter now that I’ve let it go. Of course, I do still plan to finish school and slowly enter the workforce again. I’d love to be able to provide the family with some fun-money while still taking care of the boys, and obviously I need to be able to support the family if something happened to Jason. In the meantime, I have the privilege and opportunity to seek out a career path that truly makes me happy.

What makes me happy? Writing. This has been my passion for decades. And yet, apart from a few halfhearted attempts, I’ve never really tried to make the leap from writer (one who writes) to author (a published writer). Instead, I keep working on my manuscripts. There are many reasons behind this, and as this is a typical introspective time of year for me, I want to explore those reasons.

Why do I write? What do I want to achieve by writing? And how do I plan to achieve it? Simple questions with answers unique to each writer. I’ve mentally meandered a lot on this, and here’s what I’ve come up with:

Why do I write?
Because I must. To not-write feels like the death of some essential part of me. I will write regardless of whether or not anyone else reads my words.

What do I want to achieve by writing?
Despite the fact that I would write regardless, I do want my words to be read. I want to be an author. Certainly not for fame or prestige (both a little terrifying to me), or for money (though it’d make a lovely side-benefit!). No. I write because words mean a lot to me, and I want my words to reach out and make a difference in someone’s life.

And how do I plan to achieve it?
Here’s where the demons rise up. I’m a decent writer. Not perfect, but I have skills. I’m confident in those skills and in my books. But I can’t for the life of me submit to agents. I’ve tried. I’ve queried a meek handful of times, tried to network at conferences, learned tons about the process. And yet, I find excuses or become paralyzed after a bold attempt or two, and set aside the idea of querying for extended periods of time. Rejection (even impersonal) is a PTSD trigger, so I just keep going back to writing. Believe me, I’ve worked hard to banish these fears. The fact that I’ve queried at all testifies to that. And I’ll keep trying, though at this point, until something in my illness changes, I don’t see any real results coming from the traditional publishing route.

So why not self-publish? Oh, my friends. So many PTSD issues related to this one. If I self-publish, I have to accept a tiny readership, because I have no sales/marketing skills. If I self-publish, I’ll be conceding defeat to traditional publishing and will feel I’ve failed myself and my books. If I self-publish, I’ll deal with the stigma of “not a real writer,” and hello judgement-and-rejection issues! Not to mention, if I self-publish, I could never give my books the editing, marketing, and design that a publishing house could, and how could I do that to my books??

(paralysis from within)

The flaws in this logic are easy to spot. Really, there are only three choices, unless I quit writing (not happening!). Either work on my issues and start querying, work on my issues and self-publish, or decide not to publish at all. Not to mention, if this really is about the books – see last paragraph – then frankly, keeping them unseen on my hard-drive isn’t exactly helping them on their mission in life. Some readership is better than no readership! I need to stop fooling myself – stop pretending that if I wait until “the right time,” this whole trigger-laden process (rejection! judgement! stigma! failure!) will somehow get easier, and I’m “saving” the books for when I’m ready to release them. The only thing I’m “saving” is my vulnerable inner-self.

It comes down to a battle: desire vs fear. Will I stay a writer and choose to be okay with that, or will I take the necessary steps to become an author? Right now, paralysis. I honestly don’t know. But I’m working on it.

Posted in Writing | Tagged psychology | 13 Comments

Wellness Wednesday #1: Curve-ball

Posted on September 2, 2015 by Thistle

Really, you’d think after a single week on this wellness journey, I’d be doing well. At the very least, I’d expect any not-well to be my own doing, an attack of insecurity or depression leading to binging or something. But no. This curve-ball comes of my inability to perform the normal, everyday actions of a human being. Like using a staircase properly.

So let’s talk about this. The plan: Now that the boys were in school, I’d have some alone time to study, exercise, think. I made a food plan for the week, eliminating the foods that cause me to hurt or get depressed, like gluten and sugar (super hard to eliminate despite pain-or-depression). I bought new workout clothes. I began a 30-day yoga challenge. Look at me getting my yoga game face on! I announced my wellness journey to the world, and put up a picture of myself in a swimsuit, no matter how mortifying that picture made me feel. I was doing good!

And how long did I make it, you ask? Halfway through day 2. Life was great – until klutzy me missed the bottom step or two on a staircase coming down from my therapist’s office. You’d think I’d’ve missed the steps while I was peeking at the emails I’d missed during my appointment. But no. I’d turned off my phone, and missed the steps as I pulled my car keys from my purse. Purse, keys, phone, and Amanda went flying. Sprawling. Crumpling. Lightning pain, brain switching into full-on fight-or-flight mode, complete with peripheral white vision, slow-motion observance, and loss of hearing. The world came back centered on my throbbing left ankle.

A good Samaritan ran into a physical therapy office also in the building, and two therapists came out to see if my ankle was broken. They suspected sprain instead of a break, since I could put some weight on it, and sent me on my way. I limped out to my car, dissolved into tears as I transitioned from trauma-mode to shock-mode, and called Jason. Long story short, I became an invalid that needed to be waited on hand and foot less than two days after I began my new journey.

The good news: X-rays confirm it’s a sprain** and not a break. The bad news: There will be no more yoga or other fitness that involves my legs for awhile. Instead, I spent a couple days mourning-through-food – Amanda! Pizza and brownies are bad for you and don’t make you happy the next day! – had a complete emotional meltdown (thank you, pizza and brownies…), and then decided to get on with my life. I guess curve-balls teach you that you cannot control what happens, only how you react to it. So I’m doing my best to eat real foods and do non-leggy yoga stretches and catch up on all the stationary stuff that has long been on my mostly-neglected to-do list. And hopefully, it won’t take me too long to heal. Because bed-rest sucks.

**In December 2016, after multiple rounds of therapy and many x-rays, a specialist did an MRI and determined that the foot was in fact broken. What could have been a 6-12 week recovery was exacerbated by continued use, then worsened by the very exercises that were meant to be strengthening the ankle. I was ordered not to exercise for six months because the bone had had “a catastrophic failure to heal” and needed all the help it could get. Around May/June 2017 – almost two years from the initial fall – I was finally able to turn my foot sideways again and had no more pain.

True Confessions
Back in my freshman year of high school, someone told me that for a woman to have the perfect body, her bust and hips had to be the same measurement, and her waist exactly ten inches less. Someone else scoffed at this, for entirely the wrong reasons. “Don’t tell me that someone who measures 50-40-50 has the ‘perfect’ body,” she said. We were young, ignorant, and tiny, with no idea of feminism, media standards, or fat-shaming.

This particular conversation has stuck with me over the last 20+ years. As an adult, as someone who has been everything from borderline underweight to morbidly obese, I have a different perspective on the “perfect” body. I’ve watched the campaigns for body positivity and body love and body acceptance. I’ve seen the plus-sized ads from stores that claim to promote these things. And you know what? I’d bet most of their models are pretty close to that ratio mentioned above. Where are the women with stomachs bigger than their busts? The women with tiny chests and wide hips? The women who carry tons of weight in their butts and upper arms? The women with hulking upper bodies and tiny hips and legs? I can find a more true-to-life variety of women in Walmart ads!

Having a 50-40-50 body may not be the size that society says is “good” or “right,” but it’s definitely the right shape – a shape that few overweight and obese women have. Definitely not a shape I had when I was morbidly obese, with a stomach and bust equal in size and much smaller hips. Nope. Would I have been happier with that shape? Maybe a little – I could have consoled myself, and probably more people would have looked at me and thought I “carried my weight well” instead of looking fat/lazy/stupid/insert-adjective-here – but probably not much. Another true confession: In college, my measurements were 36-26-36.5. This is damn close to “perfect.” That half inch on my hips, though…I agonized over it. That half inch kept me from being perfect! Look at me. My ass was huge!

*****
Dear younger Manda,

First off, you are a competitive swimmer. That’s gonna change your body for the rest of your life, in more ways than giving you a well-oiled cardiovascular system. You may despise your “football player” shoulders and “fat” butt and “gigantic” thighs and “bulging” upper arms, but you’re not paying attention to the bigger picture. This is a body you should appreciate. Your shoulders make you look fantastic in tank tops and sleeveless clothes, and you don’t have trouble with sliding bra straps. Those thighs and upper arms? It’s called muscle. Be proud of them! You can do pull-ups! Lots and lots of pull-ups! And that butt…it’s round, firm, and perky, not at all “fat” or “too big.” Which brings me to:

Second, the “perfect” body proportions are a load of crap. I don’t expect you in your young and uninformed world view to appreciate the modern body positivity movement. But think. What kind of female body do you find attractive? Small breasts, soft round bellies, wide hips, thicker thighs. You like pear-shaped, medium-bodied women. So why are you so desperate to be what society says is perfect? If you’re not attracted to the norm, why expect everyone else to be? Think on that.

Love, modern-day Manda

Posted in Wellness | Tagged body image, health, Wellness Wednesday | 19 Comments

RIP X

Posted on August 31, 2015 by Thistle

Turning leaves, shifting winds, airing out sweaters, and pumpkin-everything – wishful dreaming for this part of the world. With the temps sticking in the swelteringly hot upper 90s (if not higher), the start of RIP-season is a welcome occurrence. Soon, soon, the season will begin to change. In the meantime, I can pretend with books!

Readers Imbibing Peril is in its 10th season now, founded by Carl at Stainless Steel Droppings and run this year by Andi and Heather at The Estella Society. (Big thank-yous to all of you!!!!) As usual, I’ll be gobbling up books in the following categories:

Mystery
Suspense
Thriller
Dark Fantasy
Gothic
Horror
Supernatural

With my ankle all wonky and trying to heal – more on this on Wednesday – there’s a good chance I’ll read more than I usually do. I’m definitely doing Peril the First (as usual), in addition to possibly participating in Peril of the Short Story. And who knows? I did just watch Nosferatu this past weekend, so maybe I’ll have some Peril of the Screen entries, too!

My possibles:

– The Shadow Cabinet by Maureen Johnson
– Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo
– Career of Evil by Robert Galbraith
– The Ladies of Grace Adieu by Susanna Clarke
– Uprooted by Naomi Novik
– The Monk by Matthew Gregory Lewis (reread)
– Devilish by Maureen Johnson (reread)
– Gentlemen and Players by Joanne Harris (reread)
– The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (reread, can be audio)
– Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett (reread, can be audio)
– We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson (reread, can be audio)
– Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier (reread, can be audio)
– Murder at the Vicarage by Agatha Christie (audio)
– Furies of Calderon by Jim Butcher (audio)
– A Darker Shade of Magic by VE Schwab (audio)
– The Girl at Midnight by Melissa Grey (audio)
– Prudence by Gail Carriger (audio)
– The Gospel of Loki by Joanne Harris (audio)
– Ashes of Twilight by Kassy Tayler (audio)

Okay, so even with a wonky ankle, I don’t think I’ll get to all of those. But that list leaves me plenty of wiggle room for playing!

What’s on your RIP list this year?

Posted in Book Talk | Tagged lists | 11 Comments

Pretending to be Erica, by Michelle Painchaud

Posted on August 31, 2015 by Thistle

Kidnapped thirteen years ago, at the age of four, Erica Silverman is the holy grail of cons. Her parents are filthy rich, and built somewhere into their library is a safe containing a painting worth millions. More than one “Erica” has come forward, claiming to be the real thing, only to be found out. This time, however, “Erica” is more credible.

Violet has been raised to be Erica. Adopted at the age of five, her father is one of the biggest con-artists in Vegas. He’s groomed Violet to know everything about the Silvermans. He’s taught her Erica’s history, trained her in the things Erica found interesting, even given her multiple plastic surgeries to make her look more like the real thing. See, Violet and her father have one thing that no previous Erica had – the truth. They know what happened to the real Erica, and that makes all the difference.

Confession: In the flurry of all the books I put on hold to investigate, I got this one confused with several others and thought it was going to be a book about a transgender teen. Nope. Second confession: I am extremely wary of books told from the point of view of con-artists. Especially if the con-artists are sympathetic, and most especially if the idea of conning is revered in any way by the author. Take Fingersmith, for example – everyone loved that book, but I hated every moment of it. Just not my thing, right? So it really seems like, with these two confessions, I should have read a few pages of this book and decided it wasn’t for me.

I didn’t. I kept reading. Violent was a fascinating character. She was a victim as much as a villain, and her ever-evolving psychology kept me hooked. But wait – this could easily apply to Fingersmith, too, you say. Perhaps. But the two felt different. There are two different kinds of books/movies about con-artists. The line between them is very fine, but they are extremely distinct for me. Fingersmith fell the way of Count of Monte Cristo for me, whereas Pretending to be Erica fell the way of Now You See Me. Other readers, I’m sure, would not make the same distinction. Whatever the reason, this book really worked for me.

I loved seeing the Silvermans’ story unfold. I loved the balance Violet had to maintain, ever-more-fragile, inside herself, between the person she is and the person she must pretend to be. I loved the emerging truth that both selves – Violet and Erica – were equally false, because Violet has never been given the chance to be herself. She’s been groomed and manipulated from the beginning. Even after all this, she’s desperately attached to the father who…was not exactly the best father, beyond being a con-artist. The contrast between his warmth and coldness was terrifying.

Of course, no book is without its flaws. Some of the procedural stuff didn’t seem terribly credible (to say anything more specific would get into spoiler territory), and I thought Violet gave herself away more than she realized (though that might have been intentional). Mostly, though, this was a solid book: a fascinating look into an interesting psychology, and a captivating drama that kept me reading.

Posted in 2015, Prose, Young Adult | Tagged dream-invader, psychology | Leave a comment

Sunday Coffee – Goal Check-In

Posted on August 30, 2015 by Thistle

For my 36th birthday back on March 1st, I made a list of 36 goals to complete: a 36 in 36 project. Now that the year is half up, I wanted to take a moment to check in with how I’m doing.

Complete:
– All the traveling on the list (Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Rhode Island, Niagara Falls, and Canada) is DONE. These were designed for my time in New England, before moving back to TX.

– I wore makeup (ha!), went to a zoo, bowled, swam with my boys, participated in a 5K, took a bubble bath, went to a painting class, and bought fun pajamas.

– Additionally, I started doing yoga regularly, which is WAY out of my comfort zone.

– I far exceeded my initial goals to wear a skirt/dress six times, try six new-to-me restaurants, try six new-to-me kinds (not brands) of wine, try twelve new-to-me coffees, and complete 36 random acts of kindness.

In Progress:
– I’ve had people over for dinner three of six times, shopped at a thrift store four of six times, got one of six massages (boo! Need to catch up!), gone out with friends ten of twelve times, and taken three of twelve longer-than-a-5k walks.

– I’m further behind in both my paralegal course and my Rosetta Stone Spanish course than I wanted to be at this point, but both are in progress.

Still to Go:
– There are a couple things on the list that I can’t do yet, per timing: dress up for Halloween and participate in NaNoWriMo.

– As for the “any time” goals, I still need to host or attend a book club, get my two manuscript-related tattoos, attend a street festival, play pool, see a movie in theatre, and attend a play, musical, or dinner theatre production.

Conclusion:
All things – like a cross-country move – considered, I’m not doing too badly. I have seven anytime goals still to complete, two timing-based goals, and seven in-progress goals. I’ve also fully completed twenty goals. I’d say I’m roughly two-thirds of the way through my list of goals at this halfway point. Win!

Posted in Personal | Tagged goals, Sunday Coffee | 8 Comments

The Underground Girls of Kabul, by Jenny Nordberg (audio)

Posted on August 28, 2015 by Thistle

Subtitled: In Search of Hidden Resistance in Afghanistan [some versions are subtitled: The Hidden Lives of Afghan Girls Disguised as Boys]

When Jenny Nordberg was reporting in Afghanistan, she came across a phenomenon she hadn’t heard of before: bacha posh, or girls raised as boys. She began research into the bacha posh, which led to a wider discussion of freedom, gender, rights, and roles.

I’m so glad Shaina kept pushing this book on me. When she first recommended it to me, I tried to read it in print, but as so often happens with nonfiction, I couldn’t get into it. Nonfiction is so much better on audio for me, and my library up north did not have an audio copy. Boo. So I had to wait until I returned to San Antonio, which did have an audio copy in their library system. Just as with other nonfiction, what was difficult to get into in print was immediately captivating on audio.

It is difficult to say whether this book is more about gender or oppression and necessity. Nordberg discovers and follows the lives of several bacha posh. Some are girls who agree to “become” boys later in childhood for their families. Some are presented as boys from birth. Some transition back to girls before puberty, some after puberty when it’s time to marry, and some refuse to transition back at all. Some believe themselves male, some female, some both, or neither. Some families create bacha posh as a magical good luck charm to help them get a “real” male heir. Some do it because they need the extra income, or protection for the women in the family, or to avoid the shame that comes with having no male children. Whatever the reason, the bacha posh all react in very different ways to their shifting situations.

There’s a great quote (and I wish I had a physical copy so I could quote it directly) from a bacha posh who, in their mid-teens, refuses to transition back, and adamantly claims to be male. They’ve never known anything but a male role, having been presented male from birth. The question (and quote) is to do with the idea of gender – can we say this person is transgender? Or have they developed a gender identity issue because of the circumstances of their life? Would the situation have been different had this person been raised female? Keep in mind, this isn’t a culture that affords the freedom of choosing an identity. This is not a person who, as a child, felt at odds with their biological sex, and was therefore allowed to grow up male. This is a person who was randomly reared/treated as male all through life, including puberty, in a society where gender roles are strictly divided.

It brings into question how much nature and nurture are involved in the idea of gender. How much of gender is born into us, and how much is developed over time? What do gender identity issues mean in a society where one gender is given far less freedom than the other? Is there an equally extensive and historical opposite, of men raised as women? If so, Nordberg does not discuss it at all, and given the culture’s reverence of male children, I’d guess it’s probably less likely than the relatively common bacha posh.

The book was quite extensive, introducing bacha posh of all ages, lifestyle choices, finances, education, etc. It also went into great detail about the historical significance of this particular cultural phenomenon, as well as a balanced and realistic portrayal of gender inequality in both urban and rural parts of Afghanistan. Shaina said that her one complaint about the book was that it didn’t go into as much detail as she’d like about gender identity issues, and I can agree with that. However, I’m not sure just how much more detailed Nordberg could have gotten. While bacha posh are relatively common, they are also not spoken of very often or very easily. Some of the gender identity issues cannot easily be answered, and I think Nordberg did a good job at not making any assumptions. I found the book to be balanced, well-thought-out, and engaging. I’m so glad I finally got to listen to it!

Performance: The narrator of this audiobook was Kirsten Potter, who did a good job. Too often, audiobooks set in the Middle East involve really bad stereotyped accents, and this one did not. Potter pronounced the names well and read the book smoothly. Highly recommended!

Posted in 2015, Adult, Prose | Tagged audio, gender studies, LGBTQIA, Middle East, nonfiction, psychology | 5 Comments

Nekropolis, by Maureen McHugh

Posted on August 27, 2015 by Thistle

Hariba has voluntarily entered a life of forced servitude to escape the death-homes of Nekropolis, the section of a large Moroccan city where she was raised. She’s working for a rich couple who buy the contract of many such forced-servants, and who also buy what’s known as a harni: a biologically-constructed artificial intelligence near-human. At first, Hariba is repulsed by the harni, who goes by the name of Akhmim, and believes him (it) to be an abomination against God as stated in the Second Koran. Over time, however, she begins to think of Akhmim as human, and as he impresses on her (like a baby goose) and thus begins to put her needs above that of anyone else’s, she starts to fall in love with him. It’s a relationship that can never be equal, and is forbidden both by their respective contracts to their owners, and by Moroccan law.

Two years ago, my family spent the summer reading books aloud together. Each time we finished a book, we brought new suggestions for the next group read, and read a few pages to give everyone an idea of what the book was like. Jason brought Nekropolis to the table, and I was fascinated by what he read. It sounded like Middle Eastern, character-driven dystopia, and I really wanted to read it. The boys, however, went with another choice, and so Nekropolis stayed on my TBR pile for the next two years. (Notably, it’s probably a good thing we didn’t choose this one, as it would not have been an appropriate read for their ages. Jason hadn’t read it, so he was unaware of the adult content.)

Jason had a copy of the book at the time, but gave it away not long after, and my library up north didn’t have any copies of this at all. I was happy to discover that the San Antonio system did have a copy. When I grabbed a couple dozen books from the library for my (failed) attempt at another readathon, I saved this one for last. I worried that perhaps it wouldn’t hold the same allure for me as two summers ago, but I need not have worried. Nekropolis was achingly beautiful.

As I expected, this was character-driven dystopia with a focus on Muslim culture (though in North Africa rather than the Middle East). Hariba, who narrates the first and fifth (last) chapter of the book, is from a poor section of a large city, and contracts to be “jessed” (chemically bound to loyalty toward her employer) after her brother disgraces the family. She is uncomfortable in the large household after Akhmim arrives, though she “loves” her employer and has no desire to leave him. Through forced interactions with the harni, she goes from repulsion, to friendship, to love. After being contractually separated from him, she decides to run away with him, making them both fugitives, endangering her friends and family, and nearly dying due to the “jessing” procedure.

The rest of what follows is fascinating. There are only five chapters, and the three that aren’t Hariba’s are narrated by Akhmim, Hariba’s mother, and Hariba’s former best friend in the Nekropolis. The book follows a single story line, but seen from many viewpoints, including that of a not-actually-human. This was my favorite thing about the book – watching how everything thinks they see and feel things the same way, when they really don’t. Words – love, loyalty, intimacy, betrayal, happiness, belonging, touch – can all mean entirely different things to different people.

This is ultimately a two-pronged story: one about the relationship between two beings who are so far apart in nature that they cannot possibly understand each other, no matter how hard they try; and one about the sacrifices involved in bettering one’s life. It’s a book about otherness, identity, and the consequences of choice. There was heartbreak, but not necessarily heartbrokenness, if that make sense. For each tragedy, there was beauty, and vice versa. Balance and neutrality perfected. This is a book that made me think and think and think, and I relished it for days.

Posted in 2015, Adult, Prose | Tagged Africa, atmospheric, memorable, place-character, POC, psychology, speculative | 3 Comments

Lies My Girlfriend Told Me, by Julie Anne Peters

Posted on August 26, 2015 by Thistle

When Alix’s girlfriend suddenly dies, her world shatters. As she’s picking up the pieces, she discovers that Swanee didn’t just leave her behind – she left her in ignorance. Because Swanee wasn’t just dating Alix. She had another girlfriend, another life. And Alix is learning that almost nothing she knows, thinks, or feels is true.

This book came out last summer. I’d had it on my to-read list since about six months before publication, but then once it was published, I put off reading it. I’d read a lot of Peters before, and nearly everything I’d read from her shredded me. My favorite by her – Between Mom and Jo – had me sobbing through the entire second half of the book, and I rarely cry at books. No book has ever torn me up as much as that one did. When Lies My Girlfriend Told Me came out, I knew I wanted to read it. I also knew that, in that moment, in that time of my life, I absolutely could not handle being shredded. So I put it off. For over a year.

Irony: I didn’t need to put it off. This story, while not lighthearted, is a lot less stressful than others I’ve read from Peters. There are certainly sad moments, and heartbreak, but not like the others. There are supportive families and happy relationships and good things happening alongside the bad. I felt connected to the characters, without the foreboding that warns of impending heart-ripped-out-ness. And that was nice. I liked it. I loved the way things unfolded, and the way Swanee’s lies unfolded slowly, and the changes that come over all the different characters (no matter how peripheral). Character is one thing Peters always excels at!

Verdict: Another solid Peters novel, with a lot less pain/stress and more happiness than others. Win! Now I kinda wish I’d read it last summer when it first came out!!

Posted in 2015, Prose, Young Adult | Tagged LGBTQIA, POC | 4 Comments

A Brand New Journey

Posted on August 24, 2015 by Thistle

Most of you know my health backstory already: After eleven years of illness that caused a myriad of symptoms, including gigantic weight fluctuations, I was finally healed and ready to embark on a weight loss journey to lose 100+ lbs. And I did. From late 2009 to early 2013, I lost 105 lbs and maintained that loss for over a year. Cool, right? Yay! Except…no. Physically, I was thin, fit, healthy, and strong. I’d lost the weight slowly, in a steady, sustainable fashion. Mentally, however, I’d ripped myself to shreds.

Shame is a sneaky, devilish thing. It was a great tool, in terms of motivation. Not only did it help me to keep going on my weight loss journey, it helped me to make changes in a slow, permanent kind of way, so there would be no back-sliding. Fads and get-thin-quick gimmicks didn’t appeal to me. I was getting healthy! I was changing my life for good! Except, um, someone forgot to explain to me that when you allow shame to be your primarily – or only – motivation, you are sacrificing your mental and emotional well-being to your body. And in the end, that is going to bite you in the ass.

I got bitten. I wasn’t happy with the weight I’d lost because I couldn’t lose the last 10-15 lbs. I wasn’t happy with my body, hating my arms and stomach and thighs and back-fat. I felt like a failure and a fraud every time someone applauded my weight-loss success. Eventually, despite losing slow and steady, despite maintaining for a long time, despite enjoying how I felt when I ate well and exercised regularly, my deeply-ingrained body-animosity snowballed into disordered eating, self-harm via food, and massive (mostly-intentional) regain. Lesson learned.

Do I love my body today? Got to be truthful here: No. Not at all. But I’m trying. I refuse to go on another shame-based weight loss journey. I refuse to set aside the mental and emotional aspects of my health for the physical. Do I want to get thinner, healthier, fitter? Hell. Yes. More importantly, though, I’d like to learn to love myself regardless of my size and perceived success/failure. I want to stop judging myself so harshly. I want to learn to be kind to myself. I want to heal from my trauma-based mental health issues, and heal my relationship with my body and with food. I want better relationships with friends and family. I want to actually be happy and confident, not just pretend to be. I want to celebrate the journey, not just the goals achieved.

To be honest, I thought about keeping this journey elsewhere, someplace private. In the end, though, I decided I’d rather be open about it. Body positivity is something I struggle with, and keeping my struggles private won’t help me. I need to face them, force myself out into the open, in order to retrain my brain. If my meandering struggles can help fellow sufferers, I’d like that, and if there are others who can help me, I’d like that, too. I won’t be posting about this all the time – as I said yesterday, The Zen Leaf will remain primarily book-based – but I’ll probably be fairly regular about it in the months to come.

Wish me luck on this new wellness journey!

Posted in Wellness | Tagged fitness, health, psychology | 18 Comments

Sunday Coffee – Readathon FAIL – Again

Posted on August 23, 2015 by Thistle

Um. Remember how I signed up for Bout of Books? Well, just like the last half-dozen readathons I’ve signed up for, it didn’t work out. Yeah…

Here’s the thing. It used to be that when I signed up for a readathon, it was for the event itself, not for the reading. I went in excited to be reading with other people. It was not for reading down my piles of books, or for accomplishing anything except being social with fellow booknerds from around the world. Nowadays, though, I tend to sign up for readathons when I have a big pile of books that I want to get through. Only then, I can’t wait until the readathon to get to those books, and I read them all (or start-and-abandon them) before the event begins. Then I’m left with a reading hangover, so I don’t want to read at all, and no books to read anyway.

That’s exactly what happened this time, too. I ordered several dozen books from the library, and instead of letting them sit on my desk for the next few weeks, I started picking them up. Reading a bit further than I had during my Nook previews. Realizing (for the most part) that after a chapter or two, I’d lost interest. I significantly reduced my TBR pile over the last few weeks (by a third! and half of what’s left isn’t published yet!), all while reading far fewer books than expected.

Honestly, I don’t mind. I missed out on the event itself, yes, but still got what I wanted from it: a chance to read-read-read until I was ready to simply stop for awhile. This is what laissez-faire book-blogging is all about, people! I love it. My way is good enough for me. Ha! And I imagine that if I ever manage to not fail at a readathon again, it’ll be because I get the urge to participate on the day itself, and not when signups begin!!

Now it’s time to curl up with my coffee and a movie, or TV show, or something that doesn’t involve books. 😀

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On a more serious note, the way I’ve been reading/reviewing this month is troublesome. I have several coping mechanisms when I’m super stressed, and binge reading is one of them. (Better than binge eating, yeah? Though that’s one of the other coping techniques, sigh.) I am far enough along my emotional wellness journey to recognize that when I read a dozen books in two weeks plus the beginnings of several dozen more, I am not mentally healthy. I don’t like reading at this speed, or having a ton of backlogged reviews, or posting every day of the week. It reminds me too much of the very sad life I was living in 2010, when I was reading over 200 books per year.

The boys begin school tomorrow, and I will be embarking on a new wellness journey (mind, heart, body). The blog is in the process of overhaul. Books will remain a huge part of it, the majority part of it most likely, but I am opening up about other things that are important to me. It is time to strive, once again, for a little more balance in my life.

Posted in Book Talk, Wellness | Tagged readathon, Sunday Coffee | 7 Comments