Before I begin, I want to make something clear. I didn't wake up one day and happily decide to become an active person. I dragged myself to the gym. I pushed myself. I continue to push myself. Since May 18, 2016, I haven't stopped going to the gym, with the exception of vacations. I push myself 5-6 days a week, and initially, I hated it. Getting out of bed in the morning and knowing that at some point during my day I would have to work out made my life a living hell. I'm serious, I fucking hated it. After 3 weeks I wondered why nothing was changing, but by 3 months, I was squatting close to 150 pounds. I could see muscle building in my legs. I took pictures every month and my back was staring to curve inward from deadlifts, pushing my stomach out. I was glad my back fat was going away, but my stomach was still there. Everything became a battle. 

It still is a battle. This is the most challenging situation I have ever actively put myself in. Some days, I'm so confident walking into the gym, and then I see a girl walk by with a flat stomach and a glorious backside, and I wonder why the hell I put all this work in if I'll never "look like that". But for some reason, I still go. Actually, I know why I still go, because I see a difference! I see muscle, I see certain areas of my body getting leaner. I listen to my body for food (which is all the time), I listen to my body when its had enough. I even hopped on a scale 3 months ago and realized I lost 50 pounds. But I don't really care about the scale, I just care that I'm at a point in my life where I made a routine out of something that completely changed my life. And I want to emphasize this, I have changed my life. No matter how hard I try, I couldn't put that into better words. 

I won't quit, even after I've reached my goals. I want to look into the mirror one day and say that I did something for my body, something good. And I know that I will- someday, maybe even sooner rather than later. So, I wanted to add this to my blog because, well, aside from every subject I talk about in here, I wanted to add a new subject that's a part of my life. If you want to leave comments on what I should talk about, feel free. If you just want to drop by, drop by. I'll be complaining, fighting, screaming, losing, failing, winning-- but never quitting. 

I don't remember a time when I loved my body. I don't remember waking up, consistently at a month's given time or longer, and feeling good in my body. It has always felt like I have been trapped in this skin that I hate, this skin that has caused so many self-esteem issues in my life, and an excess of skin that has buried me into a life of negative self-image. 

This doesn't mean I felt trapped in a way that I had never tried to change my body. I was an active kid, I played sports, and I ate good food. I wasn't a picky eater, I was just as glad to eat leafy greens as I was to eat a piece of pizza. I loved food, I loved shotput, I loved volleyball and basketball.

I'm female, and my eyes are always wandering and staring at the other girls. They especially wandered when I was in elementary school. I noticed I was going through puberty a lot faster. My hips were getting wider, my chest was getting bigger, but my stomach wasn't lengthening, I wasn't losing my baby fat in that region, and that made me feel different, in the bathroom when we changed for gym, I could feel a sickness coming on, the sickening feeling of insecurity. 

My parents, at this age, never pushed me to lose weight. My dad constantly told me how I was young, and still developing, and what he and my mom were feeding me was not cause for a lifestyle change. I was young, but I didn't see age, I saw body. By the time I was in high school, I saw some changes to my body. Looking back now, I don't know why I thought I was so overweight! I lost so much baby fat and there was a point where I looked a little too thin, but all I saw was weight that still needed to be lost. I got into fads, bought diet pills, even exercised once in awhile at the gym. Nothing was long-term, I couldn't stick anything out. Not to mention, I didn't know anything about working out except for getting on an elliptical or a treadmill, and that bored me after about a week. I had to drag myself to the gym. 

This continued through college. I'd buy memberships to gyms I'd barely frequent. I even bought a training package and threw my savings at a gym manager to buy out a contract that wasn't clear with its goals. By the time I graduated college, I didn't know what to do. I rejected the job offer I had, I had no plans for graduate school, and I certainly didn't know what I wanted to do with life in general. I did know, however, that I wanted to change the one thing I've been battling my entire life-- my body. And now I had all the time in the world to do it. Welcome to my journey, and thank you for visiting!