It has been two years and two days since I let a surgeon remove nearly 75% of my stomach in a quest for good health. I still remain adamant that it was among the best decisions I’ve ever made. My quality of life has improved exponentially since that day, but I have to share a secret (that is really no secret to anyone who has seen me lately)… I’ve fallen off the wagon. My weight loss stalled at the one year mark and over the winter it started going in the opposite direction. Since leaving my j-o-b, the structure of a routine and the safety of a rather defined (albeit kinda miserable) future, I’ve gained 22 pounds.
It takes a lot of effort to gain 22 pounds when your tummy is this tiny. A LOT. Let’s just say, I’ve been pretty damned determined to eat ALL THE FEELINGS for some time now.
Never let it be said that I am not an overachiever.
First the jeans I bought in the “regular size store” started to get tight, then too tight. Then I discovered I could no longer pet my hip bones at the end of Savasana (don’t judge, we all have our “things”). Two weeks ago I found myself out of breath after climbing the tall staircase to visit Jillian, therapist to the stars. The final straw came when I attempted Eye of the Needle in yoga last week and my little t-rex arms couldn’t make the connection all the way around my thighs and stomach (the two places that hold the majority of this newly-discovered 22 pounds).
I realized I’ve been carrying a heaviness with me for months in addition to the weight - a resignation that I’m never going to be healthy, that I will always be f-a-t, that it was only a large, cruel joke that I ever allowed myself to feel good about my body for a fleeting moment. The old tape in my head has started to loop again… I can’t do this, I don’t deserve this, I should be ashamed. I will always be the shy, fat, little girl that protected her gentle, raw soul with layers of fat.
I am ready to hit pause on that tape and rewrite it again. Rewrite it 100 times over if I have to.
New tape... the TRUTH. I like eating well. I like being active. I like the way my skin glows when I take care of myself. I like using my body for good and not as a weapon against myself. I like not worrying about whether or not Diabetes will return or I will die from a heart attack at a too young age because I’ve clogged my arteries with coney dogs (yummmmmm… delicious, delicious coney dogs).
I like not hating myself. More than delicious, delicious coney dogs even. (American, not Lafayette, for the record.)
I recently heard someone describe FAIL as First Attempt In Learning. I failed and am now ready to S.A.I.L. (See what I did there? Clever, no?). The first step in reclaiming my health is to hold myself accountable which, for me, has always meant publicly spewing my shit all over the interwebz.
I’ve spent a lot of time coaching clients recently on choosing the next ONE step they can take to move closer to their ideal state. Change is too overwhelming when we try to do ALL the things. I want to do ALL the things - walking, running, drinking water, vitamins, meal planning, strength training - NOW.
I should listen to me - I’m a good coach.
Eventually I will do ALL the things again, but for now I’ve decided to do two things (overachiever says what?) - track my food and do one thing every day that makes me feel good about my body. I choose to be non-prescriptive about my daily “one thing” because I love the excitement and freedom of waking up to a choose your own adventure every. single. damn. day. and because I am the boss of me (it is written so on the walls of the SheHive) and I make my own rules.
So, this morning I stepped on the scale (which decidedly did NOT make me feel good - but I needed the data), re-downloaded the MyFitnessPal app and drew a line in the sand. That side - eating my feelings and shame | this side - my authentic self... a healthy, vibrant, badass rockstar.
Connect with me on MyFitnessPal: my user name is ursulaadams
I quit my job nine months ago. And while not the most fiscally responsible thing I have ever done, it is undeniably one of the smartest — and bravest — things I have done in a long time.
I loved the work I did — creating engaging work environments for people. The work suited me well… half science, half intuition. Nature and nurture. I love when dualities come together to make a more perfect something. And I did the work well.
Very well, in fact — winning award after award for the engaging work culture I had worked so hard to create.
A change in leadership in late 2015 brought about a change in philosophy about the work — not so much its importance (well…), but how to go about doing it. The difference in our philosophies was big — miles apart — but I was fairly confident that we would, eventually, meet at a comfortable middle ground.
So I put on my game face and tried to work within the new parameters. What I found, however, was that I was becoming increasingly sad and angry about how I was no longer enabled / entrusted / empowered to choose the direction of my work because that meant I was no longer enabled / entrusted / empowered to choose the direction of my life. See, there is no difference between me and the work I do. I echo the sentiments of a close and trusted friend who recently said to me,
“My work is my sacred ground. The truest expression of who I am.”
My Sacred Ground
When the smallest disagreement sent me into a tailspin I knew I had hit my breaking point. The fight was taking up too much psychological space and it was time to throw in the towel. I was done defending my work… done defending me… done defending my sacred ground.
I am confident in my talents and abilities. I am confident in my purpose. To have stayed in my job — even with all its safety and security and hella big paycheck — meant I would have to acquiesce to a system — a philosophy — that refused to acknowledge, let alone honor, me.
Some things are more important than a paycheck.
Once I put in my notice colleagues, family and friends kept asking me where I was “going” next. The only honest answer I could give them is that I was “going home.” Going home to breathe, to collect my thoughts and to regroup. And then I am going back out into the world to find my tribe — the group of people that I will surround myself with that will honor and help nurture what I have to give this world.
Whether that means I will end up working for someone else or working for myself is still up for debate — even nine months later after opening a new business and successfully building up a consulting practice. The answer changes hour to hour, minute to minute, second to second as new possibilities and opportunities present themselves. I continue to allow myself time to explore them all.
Soon after leaving my job a dear mentor encouraged me to get real clear on my truths — the principles that will guide this next phase of my life. It continues to be a work in progress.
My absolutes circa June 2016…
I will erase “should” from my vocabulary. Should is dangerous and an ineffective bandaid for fear. It is someone’s else idea of how they want me to show up in my life. Also, “Because I said so,” stopped working for me at about age two.
I only want to work with the willing. Potential is good, but only half (if even half) the equation. Dragging along the continuous neigh-sayers will not be part of any future job description.
I want to have important conversations with brave people. If I ever have to sit through one more 90 minute meeting about who has permission to email all staff, I’m out.
I will honor people over process. Listen, I get the need to have (some) rules and standardized operating procedures, but the minute they become more important than the people they were created to serve, they have lost their usefulness.
I will not have a work persona and a real life persona. It is all real life. In real life I have emotions and I am vulnerable and I have ideas and sometimes I fail and I always laugh a lot and I like to dance for no reason other than dancing is damn good for the soul.
I will not suffer to do good. I will not sacrifice a need to be personally stimulated and fulfilled, nor a desire to earn a comfortable living to do work that contributes to the greater good. Good work feels good and good work can be done just about anywhere.
I will not spend my time excusing and explaining away bad behavior — mine or anyone else’s. Sometimes good people behave poorly in bad situations and I get that, but when bad behavior becomes the norm, it’s no longer acceptable.
My absolutes have not changed, but I have found a few new truths in these past nine months…
I Trust Diversity.
I am but one, singular voice
I have a very strong internal compass and I seldom need/seek the advice of others to help define my true north. How I get there, however, is a different matter. I love getting diverse input and differing frames of reference to help guide the “how” of my “what/where/why.” Opening myself up to the diverse input of others has helped create a life that is beyond my, own, wildest imagination.
I Trust the Universe.
Slow down and listen for the wake up calls
No matter how much I plan for the future I, ultimately, can only control one thing… how I respond to what is happening around me. I have had to learn to open myself up and listen/watch for the Universe’s wake up calls to help guide me. Sometimes this means “sitting in the muck” of uncertainty much longer than I am comfortable with. I like to move quickly. I have come to discover that, many times, quickly means the one next best step until the wake up calls around me become less fuzzy.
I Seek the New.
The old solutions are not the only solutions.
I am an extrovert who loses energy quickly if left alone too long. My community has, historically, come from my work environment and it’s absence has grown to an issue of great importance to me. So much so, in fact, that I entertained going back to work for someone else full-time recently. That’s what people do after all — work full-time. Except I don’t want to work for someone else full-time unless it’s my dream work.
I reached out to a few trusted advisors in hopes of finding a solution (i.e. “work”) and they all said the same thing to me … “It’s not only the only option. Think differently. Where else can you find the community you seek?”
I don’t have the solution yet (see ALL of the above “new truths”), but I’m open to it and searching.
I Trust My Inner Circle.
Trust those that have earned the right to be trusted to help
Get clear on what you need and ask those whom you trust to help. The first important truth here is that it is up to me to get clear on what I need and not expect others to do my heavy lifting. Secondly, I must not be ashamed to ask for help. Lastly, I only want to ask for help from those whom have shown themselves to be worthy of my trust.
I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in that, when I feel particularly lost and scared, I will open myself up to input from just about anywhere. Those that have not yet earned the right to help guide my life almost always give advice that is self-serving in nature. How could it be anything differently? They don’t know me or my frame of reference and they aren’t as invested in my well-being as my trusted advisors.
I Will Not Fail
Failure is not an option if you are open to the experiment
At the end of the day I only seek to find my new truth and getting there is all a grand experiment. Some of the experiment will work and some will not. The pieces that do not work are not failures, they are merely data points that guide the rest of the experiment. There is never shame in collecting new data points, so there is no shame in failure.
The Grand Experiment
If you’ve never done it before, it’s unsettling as hell to have to define yourself outside of someone else’s vision of who you should be, what you should do, how you should behave. I wish I could say that the uneasiness eventually goes away, but I’m not sure it ever does.
The place I am in and the person I am today, nine months after walking away from the one entity that had defined the majority of my adult life, is nothing like I imagined it would be. Getting here has been such hard work. Hard work — AND a grand adventure, the magnitude and rewards of which I have never before experienced.
AND the adventure continues…
I have been a little obsessed…with the idea of German grocery stores ever since Edeka’s Supergeil commercial made it’s debut. (You’re welcome for that link, by the way.) Not only are German supermarkets home to Ritter Sport Butter Biscuits, they apparently also have suave old dudes, frolicking about, singing and dancing to industrial music in their aisles.
Could it get any better?
I’ve since learned that Aldi is owned by a German company and I’ve wanted to go ever since because, well… frolicking dudes and German cookies. Also it’s supposed to be hella-cheap and full of organic and non-GMO food and that’s important too, I guess.
There’s an Aldi down the street from me and every time I drive by — which has been approximately eleventy-billion times in the past three years — I think to myself, “I should really go shop there sometime.”
Yeah, you read that right. I’ve been thinking about going for three years. Clearly grocery shopping isn’t high on my priority list.
Anyhoooo… after overhearing my friend Brandi talk about a trip to Aldi a few weeks ago, I decided to finally give it a go. Except I have this whole weird social anxiety thing that’s been acting up recently as these things tend to do in times of high stress (and trust me, starting a new business is definitely a time of high stress).
In the past year I’ve managed to earn a Master’s degree, quit a job of 16 years, launch two businesses and travel to two foreign countries, but not knowing what awaits me on the other side of Aldi’s electronic doors (groceries?) is legit, straight up giving me anxiety.
[Photo credit: Flickr | Mike Mozart]
So I called Brandi.
“I’m having far more anxiety over shopping at a new store than one should, but here we are. So… which Aldi do you go to? Is it cool? Are they nice? Do I have to bring my own bags? Will they laugh at me once I step inside? And what about the frolicking dudes? Like, are they real?”
Brandi was super-cool and talked me off the ledge by answering all my questions without judgement. I decided I had enough information to finally face this silly fear and, as we talked, I steered the car towards Aldi. Just as I was pulling up to the corner to turn into the parking lot Brandi added, “Oh, and you’ll need a quarter for the shopping cart.”
My gentle snowflakes, I have never been so relieved to be sans one shiny quarter in my life. I drove my ass right past Aldi and straight to my local Kroger.
Dodged that bullet.
The cart locking system at Aldi. [Photo credit: Flickr | Matt Katzenberger]
Except I couldn’t get the “Aldi thing” out of my head.
More so, I couldn’t get the “anxiety thing” out of my head. For years I lived with anxiety and limited my life because of an overwhelming fear of the unknown. That was the old me, however. For the better part of the last decade I have reveled in a new life — one free of social anxiety and depression. I’ve been going a little backwards lately and it breaks my heart.
I don’t want to be that former version of myself again.
So, I’ve been gathering quarters in my coat pocket for a week now, preparing to face this (admittedly, laughable) fear. Sunday night another friend, Susan, who knows about my “Aldi anxiety” sent me a “What you should know about shopping at Aldi” video.
I thank the universe for my Hive who supports me in facing even the most laughable of fears. Monday morning I decided I had wasted enough time and energy on something that, in the scheme of things, really didn’t matter all that much.
Okay, not my actual Aldi. [Photo credit: Flickr | Thor1414]
I went to Aldi.
And I had to ask someone to show me how to unleash the carts with my shiny quarter. And the cashier smirked at me when I tried to bag my groceries at the conveyor belt (there’s a shelf at the front of the store you go to after you check out). And I didn’t buy enough bags the first time through to carry all my groceries, so I had to go back through the line a second time. And a very aggressive (or near-sighted — or both) woman damn near took me out trying to get to the frozen organic mango chunks.
I’m pretty sure EVERYONE knew it was my first time at Aldi. *gasp*
But just like every fear that has ever been placed in my path, I survived it. In fact, I’m kind of like an old-school Aldi pro now.
The “Aldi anxiety” was really just a displaced fear of some other stuff going on in life right now — stuff like quitting a job and leaving behind everything that has ever been familiar. Every day I’m stepping into strange new places and having to rely on the direction of complete strangers to survive. It’s unsettling to say the least.
But, just like Aldi, I’ll survive this unknown territory too. II’ll do it because I have a pocketful of tools (quarters and otherwise) to lean on — tools that many wonderful women helped me to develop. I’ll do it because I have a Brandi and a Susan that will show me love without judgement. And I’ll do it because I believe that I don’t have to define myself by who I used to be. I went back there for a time, but I didn’t stay too long.
Change works like that, after all — back and forth, zigs and zags. It’s not a linear process as much as we would like it to be.
So, what’s the “silliest” fear you ever faced down?
This article originally appeared in the MetroTimes
Posted By Chloe Michaels on Thu, Feb 16, 2017 at 4:14 pm
If Valentine's Day left you full of questions about sex and the female body, one event that may appeal to you is the Pussy Party at the SheHive in Ferndale.
It’s a women-only event offering a safe environment for a sex-positive discussion about female sexuality and the female body. Guests can expect a wide-ranging discussion led by sex therapist Christina Bolden, owner of Xposure, a sex education consultancy, a chance to meet like-minded women, followed by “a sex positive art project.” (We can only imagine what masterworks that will produce!)
This unusual event is all in a day’s work for SheHive, a business described by founder Ursula Adams as a “Women’s March in one place,” where Adams and partners Andrea Corp and Amanda Itliong strive to help women strengthen one another.
The event runs from 1 to 5 p.m. Feb. 19, at the SheHive, 1840 Hilton Rd., Ferndale; $60 ; for more info, see theshehive.com.
It's not everyday that you get to ask a Detroit icon like Paul W. Smith if you can say "badass" on his radio show!