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So I heard about this from my boss's gf, who is my partner in crime through this, though she is starting a week later. I didn't know forums or anything but I am posting my day to day blog on tumblr if people want to follow along. 


But here is my first post maybe to help other people understand they're not alone.  I just finished day 1! And already posted about it on my tumblr.

Hello! As many of you know (or no-one knows considering I don’t use this and nobody follows me) I have had a constant struggle with my weight for years. Almost 10 years, which is sad since I’m not even 30 (next month yo). I’ve discovered that I’m really good at losing weight, but I’m even better at gaining it. What I’m not good at is keeping it consistent. I guess that’s too boring for me. With my lifestyle and insane career it’s been really hard for me to find a diet/fad/trend/program that actually works for me. So I’m going to try something different and really learn about my body, habits, behaviors, and take the time to listen to them and train them to better fit my needs. Enter WHOLE30.

To fill you in, I work in the film industry. So I live in LA, but I have no clue what country I’m going to be in next month for my 30th birthday. (Yes I really do turn 30 next month.) I spent the past 4 months in Vancouver, Canada with a 3 day warning to prep and pack. I’m up for a job in Germany that could have me whisked away in a day or fall through and I stay put. There’s South Africa or potentially Vancouver on the horizon, without a start date or any solid proposal. Some of you may think, “whoa that’s so cool! Your life is so exciting!” or others could think, “shit your family and friends must hate you, never being able to plan for the future, coming home only to rip their hearts out again in a month.” Well both of those thoughts are correct. My life is really exciting and my friends do hate me (love you Ben, I promise). This is what we call gains and sacrifices. I am willing to make certain sacrifices in order to gain movement for me, myself and my career.

Some may think I’m selfish, lonely, smart, dumb, adventurous, disconnected, brave, stupid, ambitious, in over my head, grounded. Again, you are all correct. I am selfish. I’m thinking of myself only, making decisions that leaves others with no say. I am lonely. I don’t have that biffle I talk to on a daily basis about everything I ate, all the cute guys who smiled at me, all the stupid shit my boss made me do. I don’t have a boyfriend. And if I’m being completely honest, telling people, “it’s so I don’t have to worry about them when making these decisions to accept a job” is only an easy excuse to hide behind. It’s passable because there is some truth to it. But in reality, I’m scared. I’m scared to have to share my life. I’m scared to include another person’s feelings in my every day comings and goings. And mostly I’m scared to take my clothes off in front of myself let alone someone else. I hate showering, I avoid the mirror at all costs, and when someone hugs me I hold my breath until it’s over, because the only thing I can feel in that hug is their hands on the indent in my back that my bra makes. You want to see a photo of me? Haaaa get me liquored up first. Take me dancing? Pfft get me liquored up first. I’d rather sit alone in a corner all day than have a pool or beach day with friends. Unless you get me liquored up first…obviously.

I wear long pants to bed because I can’t be bothered to shave my legs, let alone anything else. Not because I’m lazy, but because what’s the point? Why the hell would I take time in a shower (a place I already hate) to “beautify” myself? I’ve always held onto the excuse that, “this is not me, this is not who I am, and one day I’ll be that woman I know I am and get a sexy boyfriend, wear beautiful clothes, feel great in my skin, heck even shave my whoo-ha and throw on a bathing suit! But until then, I’m not me. I’m not this person.” Well guess what ladies and gents…I am me. I am this person. And the sooner I accept it, the sooner I can take control of it and actually feel like the woman I pretend to the world I am. The other week my sister told me she wished I could see myself the way everybody else sees me. I know, I know…after all this you’re probably like, “why would anybody look at you, an ugly fat monster with hairy legs, in any positive light?” I’m here to remind you that everything I’ve stated about myself is how I FEEL, not how I look. I never said I was fat and ugly, that’s just what you gathered based on my FEELINGS. So if you gathered that, why would I think I look any different? I don’t know how I look because I avoid mirrors and disconnect with myself in the shower, I get drunk if I need to deal with anything about my body, and I completely deny my brain to accept (let alone know) the body I am wearing. Because if I feel this way, I must look this way too, but I’m not ready for acceptance because what if I’m right? It’s not like my feelings are giving me hope that I’m wrong.

So…here’s how I look to every one else. Not to toot my own horn, but I am pretty successful in what I do. What is it that I do, you ask? Well. Everything. It’s easiest to say I’m an assistant. I assist actors, directors, producers, productions….I am confident in my career and I don’t worry about work. As a freelancer you always wonder what the next gig is, hope you get one last one before the holidays, hope the one you get pays enough to cover your bills the past few months you didn’t have a gig. But I can say that I am fine. I have put in the hours, elbow grease, shit cleaning, free housing, disrespectful pay, for enough people and all with a smile, amazing work ethic, and perfect attitude to solidify and network my name. I am the set sunshine. I am tweedle dee and tweedle dum. I am intelligent in my field, a fast learner and more than observant. And I am damn good at what I do. I make it my job to have everyone on set love me, because my job is communicating. As a young female (people think my 21st b-day is next month…) respect is hard to gain. If I’m seen smiling at some guy, guess what, we’re probably banging every Wednesday night according to the crew. So I say fuck it and smile at everybody. I can’t be banging everybody on Wednesday night so people just think I bang no one, which is in fact what I do. Bang no one on Wednesday night. Or any other night really. 

But man, I create a special relationship with every single person I come across. And it has taken me years of hard work and learning to understand how to do that. I have yet to meet someone else who can do what I do. And I don’t mean that in a way to brag, I honestly wish I knew someone else who can do what I do, because I turn down a lot of work and can’t give a solid replacement. It’s a tall order I’ve created, and as you’ve gotten a glimpse, I’ve made a lot of sacrifices and trials/errors to perfect my order. It’s my job security. It’s why I feel good. When I’m at work, I am a beautiful warrior, I do shine, and my confidence is never lacking. That is how my sister wishes I see myself all the time. However, none of that has to do with my inner feelings of monstrosity. It has to do with my work ethic and not my thoughts on a pat on the back (yup I’m talking about the feelings of someones hand on that fat roll…thank you bra). When you LOVE what you do, and get high just off learning a new terminology for the last shot of the day (martini aka window shot if you’re in Canada) you don’t care what your mirror reflection looks like, because you’re wearing a different skin. And that skin is what people see. And that skin is beautiful and confident and smart and impressive. But that skin cannot go home with you. You have to take it off at the end of your 16 hour shift (a short day, I know). And you have to feel your real skin. The one you can never take off. The one people can’t see or feel. The one that makes buying jeans so tortuous you wear the same pair for weeks because the fabric just doesn’t FEEL right and you use all your strength not to cry in the fucking store.

I live in a hut (aka the cabana, aka a yurt), sleep on a pull out couch, and have to walk across a pool deck (I know…spoiled) to go to the bathroom for only $300/mo. Sweet right? I can leave whenever I want to! Even with my pod payments I can afford to leave that place for months and not need a subleaser. In reality that’s exactly what I need in order to do what I’m doing now. But in dreamland…I just want a fucking kitchen. I want a room to put my treadmill in. I want a different space for my tv other than my bedroom. I want to put all my knick knacks and artwork up. I want all my belongings in one place and not 3 different states and 2 different countries. I want to not sleep on a couch. I want a table to sit at and eat properly. But I can’t have that and do what I do, conveniently. And I feel this is my biggest problem in the weight struggle. But I can’t change it. So what else can I change? Enter WHOLE30…again! They have this day by day book to help you through each day, and right now I’m in prep. One of the things is to create an “elevator pitch” which I guess changes throughout the month. All this mumbo jumbo I just puked up is to help you understand my day 0 elevator pitch. So here it is:

The WHOLE30 is a way to help me take control of something I have no control over. With my insane lifestyle, I need to find a balance, not a “diet”. I need to create boundaries, great habits, and continue following my dream. I’m tired of yo-yo-ing, I’m tired of being uncomfortable in my own skin. I’m ready to figure out what sacrifices I need to make to be the woman I know I am.

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