The Stars Are Ours

The Musings of a Dreamer

Bitch-slapped into Awesomeness

First off, before I share my story little story, I want to tell you...

Alright, my lovelies, in a mere 72 hours, I have changed, rocked, bitch-slapped myself into awesomeness. No, I didn't win the lottery, my face isn't plastered on billboards, I didn't solve world peace. It isn't as fancy as all of that. It is all inside, a very quiet, but brutal battle finally won. 

I have wrestled with debilitatingly low self esteem for years. I was always very good at painting on my mask or even finding and building up other people, but I was quick to criticize myself. I always felt that I could love me "when I____." It was the lie that I fed myself over and over again that even when I accomplished something on that *when I* list, I couldn't enjoy it fully. My gaze just shifted to the next thing, and then the next thing… in the big ol' pyramid of shame and disappointment that I had built up for myself. 

Now, there have been times, that I knew rationally that this self-loathing was ridiculous. Rationally, I knew the steps I needed to take to healing. I wanted to take them, I tried. In the end though, I was easily broken. I didn't believe it. It was a dead mantra in my head. A hollow set of words that I recited to myself. 

Through all of this, I have tried to remain joyful and generous with love and praise for others. As a behavioral therapist, you see any progress as success in a client, as something to be celebrated. Set backs are just issues to be thought out and planned better for, a learning experience, a lesson in how not to do something. But as long as you are breathing, you have the opportunity to try again. As long as you are alive, you are a gift to this world. 

I am a gift. I am special. Beautiful. Even when people told me so, I didn't believe them.

What are things I have been ashamed of? Beauty was always a major one. I always wanted to be more beautiful and thinner (even when I was 40+lbs lighter than I am now). And now, that I am in my mid-twenties with 40+lbs more than ever before (except when I was pregnant), stretch marks on my belly, circles under my eyes, hair falling out (paintin' a pretty picture aren't I?) I had gotten to an all-time low. I have tried over and over to lose weight, only to fall off the wagon. Not fall. Flung. I flung myself off the wagon, and then waited for the damn thing to roll over me. I hated the process because I felt like I was being punished or judged or forced to deprive myself. I was trying to lose weight so that I could be perfect for *other* people and that made me angry, bitter, sad. AND, I knew that I couldn't be perfect… so the whole endeavor seemed pointless.

Some days were better than others and I really tried to work at all of these internal feelings, because I didn't want my daughter to grow up with a mother like that. Through it all, I have stuck to my guns with other personal goals. I have an amazing little family, and am a good behavioral therapist. In short, I was good at the external stuff. The stuff that I *did* or the people I helped…I put my heart into it. Behavioral therapy is focused on our choices… the thousands of choices that we make every day, in the blink of an eye and working to mastering responses and actions that are the most positive and fulfilling. I love this job. I like seeing people succeed and grow and change. I worked to help others see their strengths, the beauty in themselves, the reasons that they should feel proud of who they are and who they aim to become. 

I wanted to grow this into a business. A behavioral life coaching business. It was something that I had set in the future as a dream. I wanted to work on myself, save up, quit my normal job, and build slowly.

Then something happened. I was faced with a pretty big surprise at work and then, after the shock, I realized that I was going to be free and unattached sooner than I thought. I sat down with it, and the little bitch critic inside me listed all of the reasons why I couldn't, shouldn't focus on this dream of mine. 

And for the first time, I didn't listen. 

She was actually pissing me off.

So, I thought about it. Was she saying anything that was at all relevant? 

The truth was, I wasn't ugly or weak or incapable. This little, manipulative, gremlin of a bitch was. 

For some reason, that is what hit me. My goal with life coaching would be to help women discover the absolute awesomeness that dwells *within* them. That even when they are stripped down to nothing, that was is left is beautiful, powerful, and unique and something to celebrate. Now, how would I be able to do that if I couldn't do that for myself?

It was that simple. It was this bitch-slap, that knocked the NegativitySlut right out of me. For real, ya'll. She stumbled out looking all ridiculous and wide-eyed. I didn't need her anymore. 

I was free. I remember smiling and thinking, wow. I am happy. With me. 

I stood in front of the mirror--naked! I never, ever do that--and I looked at the scars, the extra flub, the imperfections and I thought wow, I am quite a lovely lady. Not because I was perfect… but because every inch of me was mine and deserved to be loved. My stretch marks were a gift from my daughter. My daughter is the light of my life so any gift from her should be treasured. My cellulite was a gift from delicious meals out with friends and family. My gut was a gift of watching TV and cuddling with my husband instead of going to the gym. The dark circles under my eyes were a gift of many sleepless nights from writing, finishing and publishing my first novel, or late nights with people I love, or moments with my daughter when she woke up from nightmares. There are some wonderful moments mixed in with those imperfections… things that I would never have given up. And so, these imperfections are not only mine, but beautiful. 

So, one of the many consequences of this fabulous realization? Now, I know that my weight loss journey has been going poorly because 1) I wanted it to be fast and be rid of this body faster than a sneeze and 2) how could I ever change a body that I hated? How could I invest the type of love, energy, and work into a body necessary for weight loss when I loathed it so completely? Time to change the mindset. I want to lose weight for my health and to reclaim the body I had when I was younger… although it will never quite be like that and that's okay. I want to be strong. Confident. That will take time. Change takes time. This isn't a race, it's a transformation. So in the mean time, I have to love this skin of mine--even the extra bits--because it has gotten me this far. 

I am proud and happy to say that for the first time in my life--at least from what I can remember--that I got alota love for me right now. Love without conditions… there are no "when"s involved. I love me--NOW. Every imperfect little bit of me inside and out. 

And even when the world seems to be falling apart (and it has felt that way for the past year or so), if I can love myself as-is and can recognize the people who love me for me… What is there to complain about? Because, when all is ripped away from you, in the end, that is what matters most. 

Do you have a nagging, evil wench in your head trying to beat you up or wrestle you into submitting to a life that is less than what you hoped for?

Yes? **rocky glares at evil wench**

Knock that bitch out. Trust me. She's just trying to block your view from the awesomeness that is waiting for you. 

Today is yours. Rock it! 


I love you, and you are one of the most beautiful people I've ever met; inside and out.
This reminds me that you can go to therapy your entire life, but until YOU want to change, nothing will change.
I need a constant reminder to think positively, not negatively...about everything. I am my worst critic, but being told that I am doesn't mean that I can make it stop. It's a process, and it takes time, and effort.


This post made my heart so happy. BITCHES BE BITCH-SLAPPIN'!



Thank you, E. HUGS. It is true, we can't change until we make it happen. And sometimes, we aren't ready for it. I've tried for YEARS and I have had so many tools in my arsenal to make it happen, but I couldn't. Something wasn't sticking. I am surprised that it all finally clicked into place. It is a process. But transforming ourselves always is... and it is worth the fight. Love you, woman. Good luck in your own battle!


Haha! Thanks, Netta! Yep. NegativitySluts are falling over themselves trying to get away from my fist 8-)


Great post Rocky. Made my heart soar, beautifully said.



Well said. :) Love yourself first. It's funny how we can see the need in others but it's harder to implement in ourselves. Keep it in front of you - for your daughter's sake too.


Exactly, Eden. It is crazy how our minds work. It was really when my daughter was born that I realized I needed to fix this part of me. I needed to give her a strong model of self-love that she could follow. I just couldn't "own" it. Now it is real... and I'm not only happy for myself, but also for her.


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