Unfuck Yourself!

I've been saying for years that losing weight is hard. That's been my mantra that I've been preaching for years and used far too long as an excuse to stay fat. It's not entirely true though and I just came to that realization recently.

Morocco, self love and #girlgangs

This is probably my longest blog post to date but it is also the closest to my heart. I ask that you take time to read it and follow me on my journey through Morocco…

Last week I embarked on a trip of a lifetime. I headed to Morocco with a bunch of strangers for a spiritual retreat unlike any that I’ve ever done. It was a radical self-love retreat and I loved every second of it, even the uncomfortable super vulnerable parts. Going to Morocco for this was twofold, I got to learn from other like-minded women as well as visiting a country that has been on my bucket list for years. Flying though is not on my fun list. It gives me anxiety and I’d honestly rather drive except driving to Morocco is out of the question. I will say that nothing says “you could stand to lose a few pounds” quite like an airplane seat and seatbelt. Unfortunately I was stuck in the middle seat so the longest stretch was pretty uncomfortable. I will say though that International airplanes have come a long way since my last time overseas which was 1995.

Don't mind me, I'm just here for the food

I have always been one of those girls that accepts every invitation presented to her. I use to think it was because I was a social butterfly. I am to an extent but I will also confess that I accepted a lot of those invitations because there would be food and drinks involved. In social situations it is OK to eat and drink whatever you want. It’s OK to go back to the food table over and over again because no one is paying attention. No one is there to judge you, they are all doing the same thing. I would go places to eat and drink when I would rather be home. Food always won.