30-something going on 13

Today, I’m going to share a story with you. A story about a 13-year-old girl who fell in love for the first time (two love posts in a row! Yay!). Her love was divided among five guys, but one in particular captured most of her attention.


My bedroom circa 1990.

She’d sit in her room, covered with their pictures, and dream of meeting them. She’d listen to their music and just know they were singing about her. Oh yeah, she had the right stuff, all right. And step by step, she’d find her way to make these boys love her as much as she loved them.

To say the New Kids on the Block were my life as an adolescent would not be an overstatement. I knew all their birthdays. Their brothers’ and sisters’ and parents’ names. I have dozens of VHS tapes filled with their appearances. I bought shoes that looked like the ones they wore (black shiny tie-up ones). My room was covered in posters and pin-ups. But Donnie was the only one who had a framed photo that sat on my nightstand. Obsession.

The New Kids kept me out of trouble, as silly as it sounds. While our other high school peers were out drinking, my friends and I were watching our New Kids’ videos. Perfecting our dance steps. And planning our weddings.

A few years ago, the boys reunited. I couldn’t have been more excited. I never really lost my love for them. I followed their solo projects—but to have them back together was a dream come true. I got to relive my childhood.

Donnie Wahlberg club show in 2009.

Their first reunion show in 2008 took me right back to my teen years--when I was carefree, though I didn’t realize it. When I had my whole life ahead of me. When I could be anything I wanted to be. When I still had my mom. When I still had my dreams.

After that show, as giddy as I was, I sank into a deep depression. Had I become that person I dreamed of being when I first fell in love with them? I felt unaccomplished. Fat. Lonely. It sent me into a tailspin and into the rock bottom that eventually led me to start this journey.

Fast forward to Wednesday. The New Kids (and the Backstreet Boys) were coming to Children’s. I could barely contain my excitement. Could it be that 20 years of dreams were finally going to come true?

Patty Gregory, the Children's Manager of Public Relations, made it happen. She asked me to help her greet the boys when they arrived. My inner teen was screaming, but my outer professional tried to be cool as a cucumber. I think I ended up somewhere between the two.

Then, finally, it happened, thanks to my friend and co-worker Meg Flynn, who grabbed Donnie for a photo opp. Donnie Wahlberg, my very first love, put his arms around me. Cheek-to-cheek, we posed for a picture. I talked to him about inane stuff. I told him how great it was that they had come to visit the kids. He thanked me. He called me darlin’. I tried not to faint.

Then it was over. I started thinking about the woman that 13-year-old girl wished she could be. And I thought maybe—just maybe—I’m starting to become her.

Beach blanket bingo

Hey everyone! I’m sorry I’ve been MIA for a bit, but I’m back and ready to share some major news. You ready?

I’m in love.

With a bathing suit.

At this point in my life, I’m not sure if it’s more profound for me to be in love with a person or a swimsuit, but either seem like huge milestones.

So yeah. I found a bathing suit (at Walmart, of all places). And it doesn’t make me want to hide under a towel or shorts and a T-shirt. It makes me feel curvy, not fat. And confident, not freaking out about what people think.

I’m pretty sure it’s some sort of magic suit. It sucks me in and holds me up in all the right places.
In the past—in fact, every single time I can remember trying on a bathing suit—there were tears and bitterness and sometimes even laughter as I struggled to get a suit up my long torso. I’ve tried the suits with skirts. The suits with shorts. And even just a long T-shirt to try to mask my insecurities.

Most of my past bathing suits? Black. Or at least a really dark shade or something. My new suit? Red. Fire engine red.

Now, I’m not completely delusional. I’m not out there in a bikini. But I grew up loving the water. And I realized I’ve spent far too much time inside.

So this summer, instead of curled up on my couch with a book, you’ll most likely find me spending lazy days by the pool.

Those lounge chairs have been calling my name for years. I’m just now choosing to listen.

Team everybody

Overwhelmed. Humbled. Blown away.

Those are just a few words to describe how I felt about my lovely party last Thursday.

I spent many anxious hours wondering how it would go. Would people show up? Would I be able to stand up in front of those who did and speak? Would I start crying and blubbering like an idiot?

I walked into that room Thursday and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Balloons. Streamers. PEOPLE. So many of you turned out just to say hi. And I couldn’t be more grateful.

It was hard for me to express everything I wanted in just those few short minutes. I wanted to say thank you. I wanted to make sure you knew you’d saved my life, just by supporting me and reading my blog. I wanted you to know that if you are struggling with your weight or with food addiction, there is hope.

Eloquence is not really my thing. I tend to stand up and speak whatever words come to me. My knees were shaking and I was sweating from the adrenaline that came from speaking in front of a crowd. So I hope I got at least those points across.

I loved meeting so many of you after the party. A few of you told me of your successes. Those should be shared, too. (In fact, I’d love to feature a few of you here on this blog. Email me and let me know if I can highlight your story.) I have to say one of my favorites was the woman who told me she had been secretly competing with me to get to her 100 pounds first. At 96 pounds down, she’s almost there. I love that I had a covert competitor out there.

Thank you to each of you who came to the party. An even bigger thank you to those who planned the event. And a special thank you to my dear friends who made “Team Erika” signs and waved them—a reminder of those who have been a part of my life long before I started this journey.

I’ve often shared about how hard it is for me to take a compliment. Last week you guys made me feel so special—loved and supported. And that’s a feeling I never want to forget. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Mis Favoritos

It’s been a while since I’ve done one of my favorite things post, but in honor of Oprah’s last week, I figured it was a good time. But don’t bother looking under your chairs—you’ll have to get these things on your own. Sorry about that.

Let’s get to it, shall we?

Olé Extreme Wellness Tortillas

These things have everything that’s important to me in a food—they’re big, they’re tasty and they’re healthy (I mean, EXTREME wellness—doesn’t get much healthier than that, right?). They come in several flavors, including spinach and herb, and tomato basil, but I prefer the plain old whole wheat. I find that I can use them for more things that way. Make a peanut butter and jelly tortilla. Use them as hummus dippers. Make an egg burrito. Replace bread in a turkey sandwich. They’re fantastic and have crazy amounts of fiber. I found them at Kroger, but they’re in most stores, I think. They’re with the shelved tortillas, not the refrigerated ones.

Hummus
My friend Kate always used to say “hummus is yummus.” I’ve adopted that, too. Lately I’ve been using hummus as a snack (in one of the yummy tortillas), in place of mayonnaise in sandwiches and as a dip for raw veggies.

Cardio
I’ve been a cardio fool lately. Jessica, my trainer, was at the beach last week, so I took advantage of more cardio classes. Every day last week I did hard-core cardio, sweated like crazy and felt both exhausted and exhilarated. It’s always a challenge for me to up my cardio, but I’m working on it. I want to challenge myself to try some new things—maybe a spin class.

Sunscreen
I think I’ve mentioned that my mom died of melanoma. Family history, coupled with my quick-to-burn fair skin, puts me in the highest risk factor category. My friends are probably rolling their eyes reading this, because I’m constantly on sunscreen police duty. No matter your skin tone, your age or how much of a tan you’re hoping to get, sunscreen is your friend. Always. Winter, spring, summer or fall.

P.S. If you're a Children's staff member, come say hi, grab some goodies and sign up for some giveaways at my 100-pound milestone party at 12:30 p.m. this Thursday, May 26, in Classroom 5 of the Learning Services Building of the Children's Office Park. Hope to see you there.

Short side

Sometimes I feel I’ve come so far—not just in my weight loss, but in my never-ending battle of self-image. I realized last week just one thing, however unexpected, can set me reeling.

Shorts.

That’s right. Tiny pants. A small item of clothing that barely takes any space in my closet managed to take a ridiculous amount of space in my head last week.

It’s been getting hotter. My too-big yoga pants have seen better days, so I set out to buy a few new things to wear for my workouts. I bought a pair of shorts that I didn’t think were so bad, and thought the reduction of the heat could trump any amount of self-consciousness I would feel.

Boy was I wrong.

I first wore those shorts for a session with my trainer, Jessica. I caught one glimpse of myself in the mirror—in my shorts and tank top—and realized the image I saw so didn’t match the one I had in my head. I was horrified.

Here I am, lifting weights, doing push-ups, squats, lunges, etc. And all I could concentrate on was my appearance. I turned decidedly away from the mirror to avoid the cellulite on my legs and the rolls on my stomach. I was so distracted by those images that I really struggled through my workout. And it brought me to tears.

How silly I am, but also how human. I long to be the girl who doesn’t care what she looks like. Who can look in the mirror and see beauty when I do. I wish I knew how to change that. I know in some ways it’s gotten better, but when my appearance makes me cry during exercise, well, that’s just a sign of how much farther I have to go.

I vowed not to wear those shorts ever again. Then I changed my mind. I thought maybe it was something I needed to get over rather than ignore. So I wore them again for Cardio Fusion last Thursday. After all, in that room, we have no mirror. But yet again, I was distracted. The shorts stuck to my thighs when I did the knee lifts. I heard the slippy sound of the fabric rubbing together as I ran forward. And I was convinced that everyone was disgusted by me.

The truth is that no one cared. My fellow classmates were concentrating on their workouts. No one cares about what I’m wearing or how much my thighs rub together.

I just wish I didn’t care so much.

Biscuit bliss

This weekend I took on a new challenge in my weight loss journey—the impromptu road trip.

It’s a time-honored and much-treasured tradition for me, dating back to my college years. What’s better than a friend suggesting a destination and everyone hopping in the car, giddy with anticipation?

Back in the day, my road trip essentials included Doritos, Mountain Dew, candy bars and fast food. By the time I’d get to my location, I’d be stuffed with processed food.

Some of my best friends came into town last Thursday from Jacksonville, Fla. We went to see a band play Thursday night, but misjudged the time and missed half the set. So we decided to head to Nashville where they’d be playing the next night. So fun.

I was aware of my food—for the most part. On the way there, we stopped at a gas station or two. I tried to be somewhat healthy—buying peanut butter crackers and string cheese.

When we got there, we went to an early dinner, and I had salad. Still pretty OK. After the concert, we were all hungry, so I did indulge in a hot dog. But I think overall I could call the day a success.

I can’t say the same about Saturday. Let’s just say what I ate at the Loveless Café stays at the Loveless Café. Oh, who am I kidding? You know I’ll tell you.

So. This place is famous for its biscuits. We’re talking, melt-in-your-mouth, slap-yo’-mama amazing biscuits. I was not about to leave without a biscuit. Or two.

We waited an hour and 20 minutes for a table. By the time we sat down, it was 2:30 p.m. and I hadn’t had anything to eat all day. We literally cheered for our biscuits when our waitress put them in front of us. And let me tell you. They were totally, completely, utterly worth every calorie.

Totally worth it.

See, this is how I try to live. I’m not going to be “perfect” all the time. Nor do I want to be. How boring would life be? If I had watched my friends oohing and ahhing over those biscuits while I sat there bitterly wanting one, I wouldn’t have enjoyed myself at all.

So I indulged a little. And I am glad I did. I had a loss today. Not a big one, but a loss just the same.

And now I have sweet, sweet memories of biscuits to keep me happy.

Quick mirror check

Having struggled with food issues for years, I’m no stranger to therapy. I’ve done both individual and group counseling and truly believe it has helped me change my life. After all, who couldn’t use an objective person to turn to for advice?

One thing I’ve learned in therapy that has really made an impression on me is the idea of the mirror.

You know how there are times you meet someone and you kind of instantly dislike that person? There’s no particular reason, but there’s something about that person that sparks a negative feeling.

Usually that person—or one of his or her personality traits—is a mirror into your feelings about yourself. What is it about this person you dislike? Is it something that you dislike in yourself? A characteristic you possess that you try to squelch? Maybe someone you fear you have the potential to become?

I’ve had some new insight into that mirror theory lately.

Several people—some friends, some just acquaintances—have started new diets lately. Many of these diets promise to make the person lose 1 to 2 pounds a day. Shakes and injections, special bars and pills. Whatever it takes.

And these diets are working. Good for them, right?

So why does it bother me so much to read about some of these people’s successes? I should be happy for them, no? They are becoming healthier. Losing weight, feeling better about themselves. It’s what I’ve been trying to do for a year and a half now.

Is it jealousy? Is it a superiority complex because I think I’ve done this the “right” way?

I think it goes back to that mirror. A hundred pounds ago, I would have done anything to be where I am now. I didn’t think it was possible. But I still would have tried—and I probably would have failed. In these people I see myself. Except they’re succeeding where I could not.

Please don’t misunderstand me. This is not a judgment about people who use different means to lose weight. This is a reflection of myself. I think part of this actually is a jealousy thing. I watch the weight fall off some of these people. They’re rapidly catching up to me. What took me a year is taking them mere months, and I get a little envious. My friend compared it to reading War and Peace versus reading the CliffsNotes. I guess I always have taken satisfaction in finishing a ginormously thick book.

At the same time, I would not have traded the perspective I have gained for anything in the world. I truly believe I have changed my life. And for me, because of my issues with food, I don’t think that would have been possible if I had done this any other way.

So congratulations to all of you who have made strides toward getting healthier, whether you’ve read the CliffsNotes or read the entire book.

I’ll just be over here analyzing my mirror.