A Message to Girls that Pass Judgment at the Gym

Stop. Just Stop. We are all here for the same reason... unless of course you are here to take selfies and socialize, then we've got different agendas.

Nothing drives me crazier than when I'm on the elliptical or the treadmill or the stationary bike and the girl next to me keeps peering over at my settings.  Yes, I am casually jogging at an incline of 8 and a resistance of 9.  I see that you're at a 10/12, YOU WIN!  It doesn't make any sense.  How long or how hard I work on my body changes literally nothing about yours.  At the end of the day, I still wear my size and you still wear yours.

I really do my best to not judge other girls at the gym for the sole reason that I don't want to be judged.  I can't run that far... a mile and a half to two miles tops and I'm pretty much maxed out, so when I'm feeling tired of running on the indoor track, I simply start to walk.  Let me tell you, I am getting tired of the judgmental looks I get when I start walking laps... Why are you judging me? I'm not sitting on the couch vegging out on Oreos and Easy Mac, I'm WALKING around the track!  Keep your eyes on your own prize.

Now, I will tell you that I have caught myself a time or two judging other girls at the gym.  Not the girls who walk/run their way around the track, not the girls that elliptical on a 4/5 incline-resistance combo, and not the girls that lift 10 pound weights instead of 25's.  The girls I have found myself accidentally giving the stink-eye are the girls who who are trying to look cute while they workout... and I know I shouldn't judge them, for all of the same reasons that I don't want to be judged: their workout doesn't affect mine, their body doesn't change mine, etc.  BUT for some reason I still catch myself doing it, and I think I've figured out why...

I used to be one of those girls.  I used to feel self-conscious walking into the weight room in front of the guys also working out at the gym.  I didn't want them to see me all sweaty and gross and looking like a total dude. So I would lift less to sweat less.  Then I met two girls who taught me the most important body-image lesson I have ever learned:

Why would I be at gym if I'm not going to work hard enough to work up a sweat?

I was being counterproductive! I was too worried about how I looked while I was working out, which wasn't doing my body any favors when I wasn't working out... good freaking point!

We all need to stop thinking about, looking at, and judging how everybody looks at the gym and we need to start focusing on the fact that we're all at the gym! Right? So, maybe instead of staring at the settings of the girl's elliptical next to you, you should tell that girl to keep it up! She's killin' it! 

All This Time I Was Finding Myself and I Didn't Know I Was Lost

Two years ago on Thanksgiving, I didn't really take time to reflect on what I was thankful for.  We went to dinner at my aunt's house.  I was disgruntled because my sister and her (at the time) fiance left for New York a day early and left me to suffer through the family dinner alone.  We had always gone to my grandfather's house for Thanksgiving, but he was too sick to host in 2012.  I left dinner early to head to the Outlets for - not one, but - two 8 hour shifts selling jeans and cardigans and statement necklaces to preteens and housewives and tourists alike.  Saturday morning, after the treacherous Black Friday from Hell, I literally took a car, a train, and a boat to spend the rest of the holiday with my boyfriend.  And I was thankful for that.

Last year, I wrote a blog post about how thankful I was (*and still am) for my brothers and sisters.  How we rally together and stand strong and how they've shown me what family truly is.  I was (*and still am) thankful for our relationships that could've easily been halved, but have instead flourished as full in the truest of ways.

This year, I am having a really hard time articulating what I'm grateful for, which actually sounds really freaking selfish.  Obviously I have things to be grateful for, after all, Instagram sent me huge reminders of that all weekend long...

But reading that quote over and over and over again got me to thinking.  What if there's not? What if the things I should be most thankful for are the things that I don't have.  And so, here is my list.  The first ever list of things I am thankful not to have this year:

I am thankful that I am not, in any way, disabled physically or mentally.  I have been blessed with a healthy body, a strong immune system, and a sound mind.  I have not combated a terminal illness. I have not been in fatal or life-threatening accident.  I have been blessed when others have not, and I thank God for that. 

I am thankful that I do not experience fear, anxiety, or insecurity when I think about where my next meal is coming from.  I am lucky enough to have food on the table consistently, more than I need, and more than I deserve. 

I am thankful that I do not have a doubt in my mind who has my back.  When I am scared or hurt or saddened or ecstatic, I do not have a second thought about who to call.  I do not wonder if my family will care, if my mom will attend to my question or call, or if my friends will be there when I need them.

I am thankful that I do not have you - you who pulled me down, who pulled me back, who held onto me too long without wanting me to stay.  You who changed my life, who taught me to love, and who taught me to walk away when the time was right.  You who let others opinions shape your life, my life, our lives together.  You who still brings tears to my eyes, a lump to my throat, and rock to the empty pit of my stomach.  While I would've loved to have had you, I am becoming thankful that I do not. 

Because I am not yet who I hope to become, and I am thankful for that.  I am thankful that I am not bound to who I was before now and that my growth is endless.  I am becoming the ideal Me.  The Me that doesn't need you.  The Me that stands alone, happy.

What I am most thankful for, that I do have, is time.  All of these things that I do and don't have are leading me on this journey to find myself, and I am grateful for the opportunity.  So many others are not blessed with the chance to find themselves. I have that chance and I want to hold onto it as long as I can - so I'm thankful that I'm not there yet. 

Puppies, Pinot, and President Fitzgerald Grant

Learned helplessness is a concept that was developed by Martin Seligman through an experiment he conducted based on the behaviors of man's best friend.  Seligman sent electric currents through the bottoms of dogs' cages so their little piggy-toes were shocked.  These cages had no apparent escape route, so the dogs were forced to stay put and endure the pain.  At first the dogs squirmed and jumped and looked for ways out of their chambers.  Next, Seligman put these dogs in cages that actually had a way out and shocked them again. The dogs, though, didn't even try to escape.  They stayed put assuming that nothing had changed.  That they were stuck.  They were helpless.

Now, I know Seligman sounds like a douche, torturing those poor puppies and shocking their little paws. I'm not even an animal person and I know that sending electric currents through the cages of theses pooches is a bad move, but what Seligman discovered through this experiment is so unbelievably pertinent to our lives, he should at least get a fist bump for his findings.

I'm not about to tell you that breaking up with my ex-boyfriend was akin to having shocks sent through my toes and that I was in an inescapable cage of emotion. That would be a metaphor even I am not dramatic enough to extend, but I am going to proclaim that I have 100% learned to be helpless.

Tomorrow night I am going on my 5th date with President Fitzgerald Grant... a little pseudonym for the guy I've been seeing that watches Scandal.  Fitz and I have been seeing each other for about a month now and things have actually been going great! We drink coffee, go for walks, talk about our classes (he's a med student...swoon) and I'm totally comfortable.  The thing is that whenever my sisters or my friends ask me what he's like or how things are going, my answer is always the same:

...fine...

Not like an angry-been-in-a-bad-mood-all-week 'fine!' or an upbeat-better-than-good-but-I-don't-want-to-sound-too-eager 'fine...!'  It's more of a got-an-87-on-this-exam-which-is-4-points-above-average-but-I-am-not-over-the-moon-about-it-I-did 'fine.' Ya know what I mean? Which is so annoying because I actually think I really like Fitz.  He's smart and good looking and doesn't own more shoes than I do - talk about a catch!  He's awesome and I think we could be moving in the right direction, but I don't want to get my hopes up. 

And there it is, Ladies and Gents.  I am Seligman's puppy.  For the last two years I have been trying to make it work with my ex-boyfriend. Over and over again I have been in this relationship where I have been excited by the prospect of being together... and then I'm left totally and utterly disappointed when things don't work out.  I give my time, effort, emotions, tacos (one of only dishes I am willing to make on the reg), and I'm still eating the tacos alone.  Now I am helplessly and hopelessly on the verge of not trying anymore.  My sisters are all, "invite him to family game night!" and "let's get dim sum!" and I'm over here like, "should I even shave my legs for our date tonight?"

So, I no longer think that Seligman was trying to be a jerk; I think he was trying to figure out why we're so willing to give up when things aren't easy.  Because when we try and try to no avail, it seems like we should give up.  But I don't want to feel that way.  I don't want to be the kind of person that looks at the glass as half-empty or whatever. Who cares if it's half-full?  What's the worst that happens when it's empty?  I want to look at it and think that at least there is room for more Pinot! (My proverbial glass is a long-stem wine glass, which makes sense because there not supposed to be full. Think about it.)

Seligman and I on the same page about this whole learned helplessness concept.  It's totally learned, but I have good news!  Another forward-thinking-asshole of his time, John Watson, proved something else with a incredibly unethical experiment (another lesson for another day). Behaviors can be learned and UNLEARNED! We don't have to feel helpless forever! So, tomorrow night I'm going to be excited to see Fitz. I'm going to hope that things go well. I'm going to look forward to the future. 

And if things don't work out, I'm going to be fine. I'm going to look at the glass ready to be refilled. Plus, I'm lucky enough to know that some wine glasses are bigger than others anyway. 

Fake Hair. Fake Nails. Can't Lose.

Flashback to my first day of senior year of high school.  I am wearing a white student council t-shirt that matches the DUKE label brazen on the upper left thigh of my unrolled navy blue athletic shorts.  I have on my cleanest and most comfortable silver and green Reebok running sneakers and I have my dull brown curly hair braided back into a skillfully created messy bun.  I am rocking only mascara that I'm not confident I applied that morning or the night before.  I look incredible and the best part about this outfit is that it wasn't an accident.  I really chose to wear athletic clothes to my last first day of high school.

"Why?" you may ask... well, simply because I didn't give a shit what I looked like.  

See, in high school, I was better than everybody else.  I was a three-sport athlete, two-season varsity captain, student council president, mathlete, NHS member, top 5% of my class... I even started a club that focused on teaching practical applications of biotechnology out of the classroom.  I was a jack of all trades and a master of sticking my nose in the air at anyone who cared more about their appearance than about things that really mattered: like books, and grades, and service, and making the most of the academic and extracurricular opportunities we are given in high school. 

Don't I sound like I was wicked fun? Guys were lining up at the door to take me out!

Wait... No they weren't. 

I did have a boyfriend for two years in high school.  Equally as athletic and interested in Nike's.  He was quiet, smart, and joined student council because I asked him to.  We broke up two weeks into senior year.  I don't think it's because he wanted me to wear more make up, but like, maybe it was. 

Flash forward to now: at this very minute I am wearing dark-wash designer jeans (gracias to my bff working at 7FAM), knee high heather gray socks peeking perfectly out of my brown leather riding boots, a gray over-sized J.Crew sweater, and blonde sixteen inch hair extensions (courtesy of Sally's Beauty Supply).  My fingers run across the keyboard with perfectly french manicured acrylic nails and my face - oh, my face looks smooth and bronzed.  Let me tell you, you can't go wrong with Benefit Cosmetics. 

I am, what many men and women across the nation would call: BASIC, and honestly, I like that about myself.  I am put together - at least, I look put together - and I still value all of the same things I valued before. I still read books more than magazines.  I am still a leader.  I am still passionate about education, about service, about athletics.  I am still me.  I just think I'm prettier.  

My sister used to always tell me growing up...

 "It's not how you play the game, it's how you look in the uniform."

 I'm not going to sit here and say that I totally agree, but what I will say that it's feels a hell of a lot better being bad at something when you at least look pretty! Added bonus when you end up being great at something and you look good. And honestly, guys are more attracted to me now.

I'm sure you all have heard a guy say that all they really want is a girl that's 'real,' and they're so over these 'fake bitches' because they're so spoiled, blah blah blah.  To quote another fake blonde after my own heart, Gwen Stefani, that shit drives me BANANAS.  The person that we are should not be judged based on how we look.  Old me, wearing athletic shorts, with God-given curls, and no make-up, was just as smart, kind, driven, and genuine as new me with acrylics, extensions, and Bella Bamba blush. Girls with contacts are just as smart as girls with glasses.  Girls in denim floor length skirts can be just as bitchy as girls in mini skirts. What you're wearing is no real reflection of who you are as a person.  I'm not fake just because my hair and nails are.  My smile is just as genuine whether it's coated in lipgloss or not.

Let me be clear: this is not me giving everyone a free pass to stop brushing their hair and wear men's champion sweatshirts everywhere you go. I think it's important that you dress in a way that makes you feel beautiful.  When you feel good and confident about how you present yourself, others notice that confidence and you invite the type of people, situations, and opportunities that you're looking for into your life.  That being said, we all need to try to look past the clothing (not in a creepy way).  I guess I mean past the superficial mental snapshot we take when we meet someone for the first time.  Maybe, ladies, if we all stop judging each other, guys will stop thinking it's okay to judge us, too.

So, wear athletic shorts or don't, dye your hair or don't, read a book or don't.  Just do whatever it is that makes you feel happy, confident, and beautiful.  Those are the qualities that make a person real, and those who take the time to learn what's in your heart are the ones that really matter.

Affirmation

I believe in self-compassion.

I believe that there are all kinds of love, but never the same love twice.

I believe in wearing makeup if it makes you feel beautiful.

I believe in chocolate cake. Lots of chocolate cake. 

I believe that people are the prettiest when they talk about something that they love.

I believe in speaking your mind only if you are not offensive. 

I believe in wearing athletic clothes even when you're not exercising.

I believe in fear. 

I believe that we will not make strides without setbacks. 

I believe that God brings you to struggle to lead to you success. 

I believe in wedding rings.

I believe in long soccer-mom walks in lieu of running. 

I believe in God. 

I believe that you are the best friend you will ever have.

I believe that a kind word can save a life.

I believe in hair extensions.

I believe that a few minutes in the sun can heal the soul.

I believe that you can always love deeper.

I believe in trying harder. 

I believe in midnight snacks. 

I believe that you are a product of both nature and nurture. 

I believe in adoption.

I believe that who you love is not a choice. 

I believe in family.

I believe that high heels look better with dresses than flats. 

I believe in hometowns.
I believe that there are warriors among us. 

I believe in angels. 

I believe that some fights worth it and some are worth letting your opponent win. 

I believe that Chinese food tastes better cold. 

I believe in silence. 

I believe in rolling the windows down, even in the winter. 

I believe in designer jeans. 

I believe that when you feel like life is over, it may only be the beginning.

I believe in going home. 

I believe that you can touch the lives of people you've never met. 

I believe that you are always in the right place at the right time. 

I believe in admitting defeat, but never accepting it. 

I believe in froyo for dinner.

I believe in seat belts.

I believe in self-forgiveness.
I believe in happiness.

I believe in living the life you have created, are creating, and have yet to create.
I believe in this moment you are a person that you will never be again. 

What Football and Scandal Have In Common

I don't watch football.

Oh, let me clarify: I do not watch televised NFL games on Sunday afternoons.  I do, however, frequent high school and mights football games starring my incredibly athletic and gifted nephews, but that's not that kind of football I mean.  I mean, when I'm on a date and a guy asks me if I like the Patriots, he's undoubtedly going to be disappointed by my non-commital, "Eh, yeah, sort of."

I don't want to say 'no' exactly, because I have watched football before hundreds of times, and I don't hate it; I just don't love it.  But they want me to love football.  (Yes, I did just group all men into one large all-encompassing 'they').  Because THEY really do want me to.  It's not their fault though, and it's not mine either.

Us females, we are born into a world of pink, sparkles, and frills.  We are wrapped in blankets adorned in flowers.  We're given gifts wrapped rose-toned paper tied with lace.  We are taught that we are girls and we should like "girl things."  Not to be confused with boy things.  Footballs, wrapped in football wrapping paper, to toss around with football buddies before Monday night football.

You know, guy stuff.

Okay, so I'm exaggerating, but you get where I'm going with this.  People teach us what to like when we're younger, but then we grow up.

Little boys who like football grow up to be grown men who like football and everyone is totally fine with it.  Little girls who like ballet grow up to be grown women who love ballet but are watching football with their husbands on Sunday afternoons because they're cool wives.

We get older and men want the best of both worlds.  They want us to wear dresses and cook because that's what girls do, but they also want us to watch football and drink beer because that's what makes us cool.  How confusing is that? The things we we're taught are strictly for boys when we're little are now the things we're being asked to like.  Wait a second... I have an idea!

Men should like shopping.  Men should like Grey's Anatomy.  Men should like flowers.  Men should like what we like.  I don't consider myself a feminist by any means, but I do think that we're living a double standard, and ya know what?  I find myself perpetuating that double standard.

Last week I went on a date with a new guy I met on OkCupid (I've upgraded from Tinder to OkCupid).  We met at a restaurant for drinks.  I wish I remember what he was drinking, but I remember thinking, 'okay, good choice,' when he ordered.  I like beer, so I get worked up when a guy orders a Coors Lite or something on a date.  Huge turn-off.  Anyway, I was sipping on a Shipyard Pumpkinhead, not wanting to come off too masculine by ordering a lager or something, when he asked my least favorite question...

So, do you like football?

At which point I stuttered through my explanation of how I could see myself watching football with someone who cares about it, but how I would never sit down to watch the Pats on my own. 

Oh, what do you like to watch? Grey's Anatomy? Scandal?

To which I answered honestly, "Both."

I'm kind of embarrassed to admit this because I know it's a girl show, but I watch Scandal, too. 

I had no idea what to say, but I didn't have to think of anything because the conversation moved quickly to red wine, our jobs, our families, etc.  But I kept thinking about Scandal.  Did I think it was weird that he liked it? Sort of.  I thought maybe he's gay.  Then I thought maybe he doesn't know he's gay, but then the more I thought about it, I realized: THIS ROCKS! IF THIS WORKS OUT WE COULD WATCH SCANDAL ON THURSDAYS!

That's the thing, we forget that guys can like "girl things," too.  It doesn't make them homosexuals, it makes them fun for girls to hang around with, the same way liking sports makes girls fun for guys to hang around with.

I feel like I'm rambling, but I'm gonna try to zero in on a point here: Gentlemen, it's okay for you to want a girl who likes sports, but it's also okay to like some of the girly things in life! And Ladies, it's okay for you to ask a guy to likes the things you like.  It doesn't make him less manly, if anything, I think it makes him more attractive.  Think of all of the potential shopping trips, paint nights, and Bachelor marathons in your future if you find the right man for the job.  

Flight or... Nope, That's It. Just Flight.

I always bring the most fun facts parties.  That's why I'm invited to so many hip-posh-cool dinner parties where people talk about cool things, like the latest fashion trends, who's dating who in the celebrity circles, and why they 'literally can't even' with girls who still wear Ugg boots (Can you tell I don't have that many girl friends?).  So, if you've ever been at one of those super cool-hip-posh parties with me, you'd know that my favorite and most fun fact is the following:

Contrary to popular belief, women are less likely than men to be victims of violent crime.

People love to hear that.  They're always like, "What? Really? Tell us more!" Which is, I'm sure, how you're feeling right now.  No worries, I'd never leave you hanging!

The reason that us girls are less likely to be victims of violent crimes is because we're scared.  You know when you're walking out to your car after a long day of outlet shopping and the parking lot is dark because you had to stay 'til close because you couldn't decide between the black blazer at J.Crew or the red blazer at BCBG?  You're leaving the store and you say to your friend, "Hey, hop in, I'll drive you to your car. Mine's closer."  You've actually just saved her life.  Now, maybe it's because your feet are tired from strutting around all day window shopping in your cute, yet impractical, Tori Burch flats so you assume her feet are tired to, but the reason you decide to stick together should ultimately be because it's safer.  Even if that's not what you're thinking, we, as women, engage in more preventative behaviors that make us less likely to be victims!

Let me break it down for you.

you're scared = you stick together = you're safer

So, why don't men engage in these same behaviors?  They make sense, right?  The buddy system, parking in well-lit areas, parking closer to buildings, etc. Well, let me tell you. It's society's fault. 

Men are, in my opinion, actually socialized NOT to engage in these safe, preventative behaviors.  For starters, boys are raised from a young age to assume that they are tougher than girls.  Scary movies, violent video games, rock 'em sock 'em robots: all male-oriented things.  Even bugs (which pose a serious threat if you ask me, especially spiders) are for boys because naturally boys are stronger, tougher, and less scared.  In essence, they are taught to FIGHT when a threatening situation arises.

Not us though, girls, we have been told the total opposite.  FLIGHT, ladies, the answer is always FLIGHT. We, unlike boys, are constantly reminded that we are in the midst of the dangers of the world and we are bombarded with messages about how to keep ourselves safe.  Our parents remind us to never leave a party alone, men offer to walk us to the car, and we are given pepper spray for our 16th birthdays... That last one might have just been me.

I say there's nothing wrong with flight.  When you're scared, that's good, BE SCARED and take the proper precautions.  And finally, tell you're boyfriend, brother, dad, cousin, best (boy) friend to cut the shit.  Make him let you drive him to his car.  Make sure he parks closer to the building.  Don't make him stand up for you at the bar when a creepy guy makes a comment about your ass.  Tell him you're not looking for superman, but that you want to live a life where no one needs to call superman! 

We, as twenty-somethings, live in a universal "it could never happen to me" mentality that literally sets us up for it to happen to us!  I'm not saying to live in fear, but what I am saying is that sometimes it's healthy to be a little scared: it could save your life...

Take a second to watch this snip-it from Oprah about the Gift of Fear. Kelly (the girl from the story) experienced something awful, but the gift of fear saved her life.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bBProrposzc&feature=youtu.be