What defines you...

This blog will probably be the hardest and most personal blog I ever write—but I’m ready to share it. Today I realized a lot about myself.  So, we've all had struggles and most of the things we go through in life defines us and makes us who we are today--good or bad. I remember a time when I looked like this: 

It was not my proudest moment, but this was me at my heaviest. I was about 325 pounds and this was taken a few months to a year after I lost my mom. Something inside of me died too--my spirit. My passion, my hopes, my goals. I really just didn't care anymore. I let fear overtake me. Here I was, a wife at 19, no mother or father, no siblings...and I depended on my cousins, aunts and uncles to be my family. It still didn't fill that void, but food did. Food always helped.

So, it wasn't until 2012 when I realized I had to make a change. I had to do something and get healthier, if not for me, for my son Payton. So I set out and changed things in baby steps. Those baby steps grew to big girl steps until I finally just dove in head first and never looked back. I joined a gym, I ate healthier and I didn't stop pushing myself to my maximum limit. Since then, I've lost 100 pounds. Yes, one hundred. 10 pant sizes, 2-3 shirt sizes, a shoe size (believe it or not), 2 ring sizes. I lost a lot...but gained so, so much more.

Now: 

I used to hide behind a smile and pretend to be okay. I was always bubbly and outgoing, but I felt like a star who had no glow. I didn't shine. Now, I can look into the mirror and somewhat feel a glow. I feel beautiful and I feel like my outside is beginning to match what's inside.

Trust me, I am no where near done my transformation. It's a journey and the destination will be so worth it in the end. There were a lot of sweat, tears and times when I felt like just throwing in the towel...but I didn't. That basically answers the question to all those who ask "Omg you look great, what did you do?!" Well...I just started and I didn't stop. Giving up was not an option then and it's not now.

So, the big secret. I've been at the hardest plateau ever since May. I've maintained well, clothes are loose but the scale goes up then down. I've admitted---I'm a scale-a-holic....and it will be my down fall if I don't stop. I was at the gym today and I realized, I DO look fantastic, even though I felt like a sausage stuffed in casing. I HAVE made so much progress, I HAVE changed--in many ways than just physical. I feel more confident, I am not as shy, I smile--a lot. And I love to laugh again. I feel like ME again, like the girl turned woman before her mother died. Though I've grown, I feel like I've finally started to get my passions back, my spirit, my hopes and my goals. I dream again--and I dream big.

But I still fear. Why? Being a scale-a-holic is something that's not really known or talked about. Hell, I probably just now invented it, but regardless....the struggle is this: I let those numbers depict my day, my life. I let those numbers get to me, control me, eat at me, discourage me. Every.single.morning I have to weigh myself. If I've gained a pound, I frantically try to figure out why and what I've done to gain. I'm paranoid...I freak out and then get pissed. Then...I get sad. Then, I can't focus to get back on track with eating right and clean like before. I continue to work out and push myself, but motivation is slacking and getting my eating habits back on track is harder because of those THREE little numbers that should mean nothing, but mean everything.

I sabotage myself. Why? I'm scared....I'm scared I'll go back to the 325 pound Lauren who was just the fat girl in high school. I was the one they sang songs about and titled "Biggie, Biggie, Biggie..." I was "Miss Piggy." I was "Rosanne." My weight defined me then...and now the numbers do. And it has to stop. NOW.

It was possible then and it's possible now. I didn't give up before and like hell will I now, even though most days I figure why not. But I can't. I'm not done yet. I'm transforming myself and it takes time. So if it takes me another year, so be it. But I will keep that weight off for good. I will succeed because I REFUSE to let those numbers win. I am a beautiful, confident woman damn it and I will show it.

Losing weight is never easy. They don't tell you how emotionally draining it is. You know the physical aspects of it, but you never realize the scars that lay buried until you shed what covered said scars. Every time I think of giving up I remember that blind date in tenth grade when the guy said "150 pounds? What in each leg?" That killed me. It broke me and it still hurts to this day.

Sad thing is? Society never will help images or the way we view ourselves. I feel so bad for the young girls today going on fad diets just to be in size 0 because that's what's acceptable. I define what's acceptable to me and I say--beauty is only skin deep. They always say it's what's on the inside that matters and it's really how it should be. So why do we always look to the outside appearance first and make our assumptions based solely on that? But we do...and this is the world we live in.

 So, today I had an epiphany. It's time for me to break up with the scale and only get together every couple weeks or so. It's killing my progress and it all started in May when I had to weigh everyday because I hit my first goal of 100 pounds and was terrified to gain any of it back. Even feeling like I was taking on more water than the Titanic, regardless the fact I had Sonic the night before, I still looked beautiful in the mirror...and that's something the scale could never tell me.

Beauty....is in the eye of the beholder. So behold your beauty, regardless of size or what the number on the scale says....embrace it!