My encouragement on Mothers Day.

Good morning, 

and happy Mother’s Day to any of you Mama’s!

I want to share a story of encouragement on this day. This isn't about motherhood, or about my mother; but I have a feeling being a mother must be somewhat like this journey of decision I experienced 3 short years ago.

Let's start our flash back with my workout yesterday. I decided to go to Planet Fitness near my house (tanning bed, I know, so sue me, we have a wedding next weekend) and couldn’t help but remember a time super early in my journey that really solidified within me that I was going to work like hell for this life. 

I was probably 3 months out from my show. Drinking every single day and lonely didn’t begin to describe how it felt being me during this time. Because I had chosen to “compete” my friends and family thought I was nuts. Also- I was now a low bottom drunken nightmare so they’d pretty much had it with my shit. Both physically and emotionally. 

March, April, May of 2015 were extremely empty, lonely months and I recall spending hours on my porch crying to my best friend in Utah explaining how nobody believed in me. Nobody believed i would become something better. Nobody believed I would “do great things” (#prettygirldogreatthings) How could I blame them? I couldn’t stop drinking. I couldn’t stop drinking AND driving. And even though I had implemented this “healthy lifestyle” every night still ended with the bottle. 

In recovery there are words in the literature state, 

“we must remember that 10-20 years of drunkenness would make a skeptic out of anyone."

There was never a statement more true to describe my life.

One of my defining moments took place at probably 8 weeks out from show day. 

Note: I forcefully got sober 3 weeks before my show, after my 2nd DUI and being mugged at a bar. 

I was sitting on the ground, smith machine bar at my hips, forcing myself to finish a leg day. I actually had only just begun the workout and was only on my 3rd exercise block. I had loaded up the machine with 25lb plates, situated the bench, done one set- and started to cry. I ugly cried in public and gave no shits about it. I remember sitting there with my cheeks covered by tears thinking, they’re right. I can’t do this. I’ll never become anything or anyone. I’m so fucking tired, and I’m so Fucking hung over.. I just want to go home. 

So I did. I got up, leaving the equipment there, and left. I stopped at CVS and picked up a liter (yes, you read that right) of wine on the way and drank it all crying all the while, my head roaring with insecurities and self doubt. This was standard procedure. This was my Friday nights as I knew it. My head screamed at me...

(pours glass) 

You’re disgusting. You’re fat. Andrew was right, nobody will ever love you. Maybe he hit you because you needed to learn. Maybe you should have made the changes he demanded you make and then you wouldn't divorced, broke, fat and alone. Why would anyone love you? 

(Pours another glass) 

You can’t even finish a god damn leg day without giving up. You can’t even go 24 hours without a drink. Your family hates you. Your friends are embarrassed by you. Nobody believes in you.. you are a waste

(pours another glass) 

I woke up that next morning, my front door wide open, sleeping face down on my couch. Completely disoriented I walked outside to smoke a cigarette. I noticed my car door wide open as well with my keys in the ignition. My purse sitting on the seat. What?? 

I didn’t even try to make sense of it, I just shamefully sat there. Shaking and cheifing a cigarette trying to get my eyes to focus and not feel so wobbly inside my head. Feeling even more broken and afraid, I sat there wondering, who had I become. The thoughts of the night before started to return and my anxiety continued to rear its ugly heard. I spent the day laying on the couch in my disgustingly dirty apartment trying to recovery and quiet the storm inside. It didn't matter who I had become really, because the only thing I knew how to do anything was try and stay live. Try to not let these engulfing emotions take me away. Yet, sometime that was my wish; only sometime.

The next day I got up and went to work, business as usual. Hiding my terrible life behind what ever it was I had left of the ability to smile. I seemingly did it well to those who never saw my home life. I packed my gym bag, not because of determination to look good in my show, but because I was determined to not drink that day. That evening when I got to planet fitness, it was the same gym. I did the same workout I did every monday. Experiencing the same shameful feeling when I looked in the mirror. But something had changed. I unbeknownst to me I had decided that I would never walk out of the gym again during a workout. I would never allow my head to take me away from my goal. The roaring anxiety could be as loud as it wanted (and still is) but I would PRESS ON right through it. 

I didn’t stop drinking that day, but I have kept that promise. While I can not control neither the past, or defects and struggles I seem to have been born with,  I can control how I react to them. I can utilize fitness as my healthy “straight and narrow path.” I can decide that no matter what I won’t allow my head to get in the way. I can stay the course and make better choices, ones that benefit me and not ones destroy me. 

This DOES NOT mean I don’t struggle. I spend many hours in the gym looking at myself and shaking my head. “You’re not good enough, STILL, you’re not.” And other thoughts curse through my head on the regular; but I won’t walk away. I won’t walk out. I won’t give up. Never again. 

That’s the best I can do, my babes. And that’s all I can ever ask of you! 

So on this Mothers day I hope you remember that you're doing an amazing job. Even if you don't think you are, you truly are running an operation that takes every bit of your effoert and time every single day. Not to mention the emotional aspect of something you grew inside your body now being on the outside. Free to make choices, both good and bad. Free to hurt and be hurt. FREE. That is a terrifying thought. In my opinion, mothers are the strongest people in the world. Dumbbells mean nothing when you've made the decision to rear a child. I applaud you, I hug you, and I eternally support you.

And to my mother- you're a true angel. I couldn't imagine a better human being to have been CHOSEN to raise me. I may not have been born to you, but I was born to be yours. You are the world in one tiny women with a heart of gold and the most incredible drive I have ever seen. You've never once turned your back on me. You loved me at my darkest. In a time when I truly had no idea how to love myself. You've spent countless hours cleaning up my messes. Both as a child AND as an adult. Leaving you in a few months is the scariest feeling I've felt in many years. I love you more deeply than I am ever able to express in person. Emotions physically are still a challenge for me, but you are the wind beneath my wings and have been every single day for 31 years. I am honored to be your daughter and to learn how to become a wife and a mother by your example.

Happy Sunday.

Happy Mother’s Day, either currently or future!

And sincerely I thank you for being a part of my team! 

Look in my eyes, hold still, focus, BREATHE.

When I was 12 years old I was a nationally ranked gymnast. I worked hard training upwards of 30 hours a week to master my craft. I think it was not only a tool for me to grow and learn but a way for my mother to have some time to gather herself. I was, to say the least, a handful. I was a natural born athlete and competitor. But what I lacked was focus. What I lacked was faith in myself. I love my mother more than anything in the world, but as perfect as she is, she was also an incredible enabler. Because I was born with ADHD and other things that effected my performance at times, my sweet mother never wanted me to feel like a failure. She believe in me, no matter what. But the funny thing about children with attention disorders is that they’re incredibly smart. They can also be incredibly manipulative. They get frustrated easily therefor they express that frustration and in turn aren’t forced to push through the uncomfortable feelings that come with things like repetition, practice, or general stillness. 

I will never forget an experience that showed me, I could do hard thing. I could in fact complete tasks, follow directions, grow.

My hyperactivity was so severe as a child that I couldn’t sit still long enough to look someone in the eyes. One day my male gymnastics coach, whom had trained me for several years, stood in front of me and yelled, “DANI... LOOK AT ME.” I did for a moment, then looked away, breaking eye contact nervously. He said again, “DANI.. I SAID, LOOK AT ME. LOOK AT EYES AND LISTEN. FOCUS!” I started to cry. He repeated him self over and over, "LOOK AT ME." Finally I broke yelling out, “I can’t! I can't do it!." He placed his hands gentrly on my shoulders standing in front of me and said, "Yes you can, stop, breathe, do not take your eyes off mine."  Painfully I stood in silence for what felt like an eternity looking into Tom’s eyes. It hurt inside. I remember feeling panic as tears flowed down my face. Then he said, “You see? You CAN do it. Just breathe and focus.” He hugged me tightly and walked away to continue coaching his team. 

.

.

I almost cry writing it. I'm a 31 year old woman and this effects me in such a deep way. What Tom taught me that day didn’t set it until later in life. But I imagine that’s part of being a coach, no matter the age of the learners. In fact, now as a coach I know it is. 

What I learned was that I wasn't broken, I wasn't stupid and I wasn't incapable. I just needed someone to help me. I needed someone to show me some tough love and teach me, without degrading me that It was definitely hard. Sitting still and being quiet. Even harder making eye contact, but, I could do it. 

It would have done me no good if Tom ignored me, continued on with his hours of coaching just letting me bounce off the walls. It would have done my parents no good, as they were paying hundreds of dollars a month for this training. But most importantly I would never have learn how to navigate life as MYSELF, not as someone else. I wasn't like the other girls on the team. They didn't need more attention and more help keeping their head in the moment of the routines we were learning. They didn't need reminders to come straight back to the floor after heading to the drinking fountain, in stead of getting caught up in a conversation in the 3 second walk. They didn't need tender reviews, they could handle the boldness. I needed something different. The best coaches and teachers are the one's who consider each individual as just that, Individual. And the best coaches and teachers understand that some people, whether they be child or adult, need more tenderness WITH firmness. They understand and learn their clients or students realizing their personality. When it's time to push, when it's time to quietly affirm. We are all different. 

I spent a great part of my life thinking I couldn't do things. I still do. I think about this company and this platform and panic. Holy shit, how am I going to do this? I remember loosing my license and sobbing on my living room floor thinking, how on EARTH am I going to get through the next year without driving? Well here I am, almost 3 years later, still no license. And in that time i've not only learned to do life but i've completely transformed my life while I was at it. Built a successful career, a small business, a following. I did it. I had to stop, breathe, and focus. I remember circling a parking lot of an AA meeting thinking, I can't do this. I can't. I don't want to either, but REALLY I can't. But I did. I walked in. I had to stop, breathe, and focus. I remember crying as I found out I had lost my job thinking all the worst case scenarios. How am I going to pay for my lawyer? How am I going to help Tyler with the costs of our life? How am I going to pay for the uber rides I need to get to places while job hunting? How the hell am I going to do this. I had to stop, breathe and focus.

A few months later I found myself having adapted to my new found free time and re-launched my online training, purchased a website, and gained even a greater following in my time of brutal honesty and transparent struggle.

I will never stop reminding myself of the moment Tom Brennan taught me one of the greatest lessons in my life. At such a young age he prepared me for both the triumph and the failure of my future. Because let's not forget that even in success we must practice those three behavior checks I spoke of above. In turmoil we need to re-center ourselves. Eye on the prize, if you will. And with the good comes much inflation of the mind and with that can come complacency and lackadaisical mindset. 

When you're at the bottom, WORK LIKE HELL. When you're on top, YOU REMEMBER THE BOTTOM, AND STILL, WORK LIKE HELL.

And never, ever forget, that you really CAN do it. No matter how uncomfortable it feels. No matter how many tears are streaming down your face and no matter how much you want to scream. Your body and your mind are incredibly powerful things. When you TEACH yourself to make these two work together, you will astound yourself. 

#PRESSONPRETTYGIRL

Why I love my run down garage.

I have a garage. It's not pretty. It's broken down and ugly. It's musty on the inside and is currently stacked with all the crap that I don't know what to do with, and or doesn't have a place in my home. This garage is filled with the clutter from my grandmother passing away. It's covered in moss on the outside and it has a door that doesn't open. From the outside, it's nothing to look at. And honestly, now a days, neither is the inside. It's not even remotely pleasing ascetically and has absolutely zero curb appeal. I don't do it any favors. I don't keep it up. I've never taken the time to paint it, or plant pretty flowers around it to bring happiness and light. I just let it be. Now a days it's just my dingy old garage. But that wasn't always the case. 

Many of you do not know that I live in my grandparents home. The house my father grew up in from the time he was 4. When my grandma died in 2014 the home was left to my Dad. It was then decided that this house could either be sold, or given to my sister and I to move into. My sister at the time  was living in an apartment and moving in was poor timing. Me, on the other hand; was in the depth of my addiction. Living with my parents, drinking daily and wanting nothing more than a place to run away and drown inside. After she died this got much worse. This home became my hiding spot. The  place I would spiritually come to die every single night before I passed out to try and start another day feeling empty yet forced to be alive. Like I said, this wasn't always the case. 

Growing up we spent a great majority of our time at my grandparents house. We spent most weekends there. It's hard to remember now if this is true, but I swear I we spent equal time at our grandparents home and our parents. Not for any other reason than we absolutely loved it. As kids, we loved this house, and we loved that garage. It was our fort, our play house. Our favorite spot next to the attic (which is still my favorite spot)

Inside that garage which now stands ugly and broken, we made thousands of memories. We laughed for hours on end. We set up tea parties. We dreamed. We hid from the world and created our own. We spent hours inside it during the summers and even in the winters. We had passwords to get in that we constantly changed so my poor littler sister would be locked out (I'm sorry, Amanda)  Our little imaginations thrived and became full of plans and thoughts for our futures. When I say we, I mean the whole neighborhood. We were a little club and we had so much fun. That went on for a long time. I would say we hung out there well into my teenage years. The conversations changed as we grew. There was spin the bottle and sneaky things that would have gotten us grounded for life.  I'm sure we all have a place like that, right?

One day I was sitting on my back porch just pondering my life. Something I do often now that i'm sober. I was thinking about that garage and the memories we made inside it, but was surprised with how looking at it now, you'd never imagine. Suddenly, it hit me. My old garage is much like people with addiction. It's much like the old me. So today, I want to talk about that. I want to speak brutally honestly about it, so here we go.

I think about myself in 2014 and early 2015. I was not pretty to look at. Not only because I had gained so much weight that I was unrecognizable at times, but because I was lost. I had all but disappeared, as I have explained many times before. I wasn't the same smiling girl that everyone knew growing up. I wasn't the same child my parents raised. The little girl that was so full of life was gone, and in her place stood a woman completely empty and removed. I was dull and I was shattered. There were parts of me that were falling apart and grown over from lack of care. There were parts of me that still had light, like the occasional smile in a time where by some miracle I was able to tap into a moment of happiness and connect with myself again. But honestly, that was more an act.  I wasn't even nice to spend time around. Much like currently spending time in my garage wouldn't be any fun, such was life being around me.  My garage is cluttered and crowded with junk. There is no room for a happy conversation to take place there. Too much is blocking it from sunlight to want to sit inside it's walls.  It's too bogged down with stuff. But it wasn't that way, right? And neither was I.  It was  full of life and memories for a long time. And so was I.

I am overwhelmed recently with the need to speak openly and honestly about addiction. For some reason I don't think people understand this. I don't think you could understand this unless it's happened to you or someone you love. But addiction, suffering with being a slave to something that controls you, isn't a choice. It isn't something that any of us want, and I can tell you that first hand after having suffered through it so deeply that I almost lost my life.

I know what you think when you hear the word "alcoholic" or "drug addict." I'm not stupid, and neither are they.  I know what I thought, back then, about "those people." I know what you think when you hear someone has gotten arrested for drunk driving, not once, but twice. I know what you think when you hear someone went to jail for something like drug possession or driving while under the influence and crashing their car.  I know it's scary to say it out loud, but I'll tell you what I thought.


What a piece of shit.

Don't lie and pretend this isn't what rushes through your head when you hear of these people who seem just so pathetic to you, you wish someone would "teach them a lesson." Or, "for gods sake... get it together."

I was just like you. I thought the exact same thing.
Until I was that person. Until I was sitting in jail for doing something that sober me would NEVER in a million years have done.  Before I was showing up to the AA meetings and baring my utterly broken soul to a room full of strangers, I thought just like you.

But here's something you don't think about.

Maybe that drunk driver that you're assuming is a piece of garbage was beaten by her x-husband so brutally that she would rather be dead than feel the pain of living day to day. Maybe that drug addict was given pain pills after a back injury, which led him to become addicted to narcotics. Which led him to needing more, a bigger high, a deeper numb. Which led him to heroine, which led him to living on the floor of a dope house, robbing party stores to feed the one thing that made him feel like his body wasn't about to explode from pain. Maybe that individual showing up shaking and throwing up on themselves grew up in a home with an alcoholic parent and watched their father beat the hell out of their mother. Or was beaten to hell themselves. Maybe they don't know any different. Or let's make it even more simple, shall we? Let's just be real about it.

Each and every one of these piece of garbage people was once a child. They were once playing inside of a garage. Or maybe on a dirty mattress of a crack house, you don't know. But even that child was making up tales of wonderment and playing their imaginary games in their beautiful little mind. All of them were at one time completely innocent and full of nothing but light and memories they were trying to make. Today, they may be filled with clutter and pain. They may not be something to look at anymore. They may have hurt you or someone you love. They may be the person YOU love, and you may be hurting. Maybe they stole from you, or crashed your car, or maybe they even killed your child. But remember, THEY ARE SOMEONES CHILD. They weren't always this way.
They haven't always been a run down garage.
 They haven't always been filled with garbage, but today they are.
Also, let me remind you, that they don't have to be. 

I could go out tomorrow and clean my garage. Just like I decided to check myself into a hospital and clean up my life. I could do that, but I haven't. A big part of the reason why that hasn't occurred is because I'm alone. I live alone. I do life essentially alone at this time. I don't have anyone to help me carry the heavy things to the curb. I don't have the proper knowledge on how to have the trash companies come pick it up. And honestly, I'm still a little too overwhelmed to do it. The paint on my outsides are still drying, if you will. The flowers that have been planted around me to create beauty are still blooming slowly. So you see, it seems too big a challenge for me to do by myself. I'm sure one day, i'll get there. I'm sure one day I'll have some help to clean up my garage, and then it will be completely beautiful again.

So what if you never help the individual who needs a hand carrying the heavy things to the curb. You can look at this addict, this alcoholic, this person who is suffering in a way YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND and you can judge them. OR...

you can help them clean their garage.

You can believe in people and love them enough to see that once upon a time, they were white and filled with natural light from windows opened to the sun. And they can be again, but they can't do it alone. Or you can selfishly live in the state of ignorance that most people suffering with addiction are subject to every single day.

Addiction is a hell I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I am a recovered alcoholic, but this disease is something I handle and battle every singly day. My mind doesn't think like yours, not even for a moment. My mind thinks in fear and runs away. My mind chooses to drown and go numb in stead of handling issues and feeling things to constructively navigate a life. Almost 11 months ago when I decided, yet again, to re-commit myself to a sober life; I chose to not let my natural mind win. Ever again. 

So maybe this is a ramble and maybe it doesn't make sense. Because my garage is sometimes still cluttered. But my God and all thank to him, is it 10 times more beautiful than it ever was. And as for my real garage, it will never be ugly to me. Because inside those walls, I grew up. Those memories will forever outweigh any look of the outside. Any moss or broken door. Or leaning foundation. Inside there is my happiness.

So before you think you know anything about that kid drunk at school, or that girl sleeping with someone for drug money, or that driver who put your family in danger... I challenge you to pause. You have no idea what anyone is suffering through, or  how hard they are working to overcome personal hell.

I am at peace with MYSELF

GOOD MORNING FROM PARK CITY, UTAH!

You guys, i'm not sure where to start. I cried this morning as I laid in bed and posted the inspiration for this blog on my instagram account. Honestly, I am just so happy. How cheesy, I know. But that's the truth. I can't explain the happiness and peacefulness I feel currently as I spend my time here. I miss it. It hurts my heart. But at the same time I am so thankful for the overwhelming sense of calm and confirmation that I am on the right path, and that my life will one day again thrive within these mountains. 

Heartbroken and shaky but holding it together, standing with a smile. (a post about my job, my heart and my ovaries. Read on if you dare)

"

I'M SO CONFUSED. 

I KNOW I HEARD YOU LOUD AND CLEAR, SO I FOLLOWED THROUGH.

SOMEHOW I ENDED UP HERE.

I DON'T WANT TO THINK

I MAY NEVER UNDERSTAND,

THAT MY BROKEN HEART IS A PART OF YOUR PLAN.

WHEN I TRY TO PRAY, 

ALL I GOT IS HURT.

AND THESE 4 WORDS.

THY WILL BE DONE.

THY WILL BE DONE.

"

Two weeks ago I went to work. The place I love. The job I feel was made for me. The gift I feel God gave me. I went, I did my job with joy, and I left. 3 hours later I received an email saying I no longer had a job. Not just me, but none of us. The company has closed down. I was walking down the street going to dinner to meet a friend. I thought this was a joke. I thought our computer system must have been hacked. Right? This can't be real? Why? It does not make any sense, I was literally there 3 hours ago doing my thing. But it wasn't a joke. It was real and I was devastated. This may seem dramatic, right? It's just a job. You have a resume and you'll find something new. I hear ya.. that's true. Let me go into why this was so devastating to me. Ready? Here comes a Dani ramble and a whole lot of feelings and emotions. 

I left a job I loved in August 2015 because I had finally gotten an opportunity to be a full time personal trainer. Something I had fallen in love with as I lost 50lbs and became fully amerced in the industry of changing lives through health and fitness. My entire focus shifted and suddenly I felt I had PURPOSE.

 I had found direction. If felt God had given me the calling of starting Press On Pretty Girl. I felt my sobriety was something that would change not only my life but many as I FINALLY came to accept it.You guys know the story. If you're here you've likely read some previous post. If you haven't, I would love it if you scrolled back and did. I would love if you understood who I am and why i'm here. Anyway, I was training. 6 months into this position I was suddenly "let go" at 6am on a Monday morning, two weeks before Christmas. YIKES.

 No notice and no plan. I was heartbroken. I found myself wondering if this was even worth it. Should I go back to school and start again?  Maybe i'm not meant to be a trainer. Is this even a real career?How could my stability be determined by someone else so frivolously that they can just suddenly tell me "hey, sorry, but we don't have a place for you."  

I walked home and sat on my floor and cried. I didn't understand. I followed the direction I felt I was supposed to take and did so righteously with my heart in the right place. I was helping people. I was staying sober. I was riding a bike 9 miles each way to work and back and making it to 5 AA meetings a week to keep myself on track while trying to figure out this sober living thing. I was also figuring out how to survive now without a license and being so broke after paying fines and fee's that were astronomical. I had made it through what I felt was the roughest time of my life and made it 7 months. Suddenly my world seemed to crash around me. I started working in a bar, a horrible place for me, but I felt I was strong enough at the time to handle it. Drinking didn't seem to be a problem anymore so this should be fine. Lots of money to be made and I can go back to school while I work here. 2 years from now i'll have my dream life. 

I didn't last long. I hated it and would cry and cry every day before I went into work. I was tired. I felt I had moved backwards and that wasn't my intended place. I knew I didn't want to go back to school again and realized that I was just running out of fear to something challenging. Something to distract me. I have a tendency to complicate things to make my life harder when actually it can be very simply. So I started to again apply for training jobs. I was endlessly sending out my resume. It wasn't looking good. I started to shift my focus to possible Marketing. Another tactic to distract me from the feeling of failure. I had calls after calls for job interviews but I didn't feel right about anything. Likely because they were not even near what I'm passionate about. 

One day I saw that Nth Degree Fitness started following me on Instagram. I was surprised. I wondered mainly how they found me but then again, the internet is a weird thing. One day I felt compelled to send the Instagram page a message. I was searching like crazy for a job and having no luck.. what could it hurt? So I did. I sent a message essentially begging for a job. I even said, I will work front desk. I am just looking to be back in this industry. I got a message back asking me to send my resume. Long story short I was hired and began working upwards of 30 hours a week running classes and being completely involved as much as I was allowed in this company. I COMPLETELY ADORED IT. I know, it's work, but i'm telling you. This place made me feel alive. I felt I had FINALLY found my place. Thank you God. Thank you for giving me my dream life. I worked so hard to get here. It's been a times a living hell but as I have been told I was rewarded with a glorious life.

6 months later I received that email. No warning. No more job. Again.

This time I felt heart broken, again, but prepared. I put on my big girl pants, didn't shed a tear and started sending out my new and updated resume. I found a great response so I thought to myself, it's okay! I'll be okay! Phew. But the sadness was real. I still do not have the ideal situation as I can't get around easy to places. But I vowed to not let this effect me. I've been doing it for 13 months now and nothing has stopped me. Nothing will stop me.

A few days went by.

My family had planned to meet for my younger sisters birthday. I was super excited as I had not seen my family in 3 weeks. (I took a trip to Utah before losing my job, perfect timing right?)

When I arrived there was a box for me that said, BIG SISTER on it. I thought about how cute my little sister is and how she must have gotten me a pitty present for no longer having a job to go to monday morning.

It turns out it wasn't an "i'm sorry you lost your job" gift. The present that was in the box was a necklace. 

A cute little heart on a beautiful chain. 

 wasn't sure what it was for at this point and was confused.

I stared at the heart and wondered why my entire family was staring at me. I turned the heart over. Oh!  It says "Aunt!"

 Cool! Who's having a baby?!

(clearly still not understanding)

"I'm having a baby" my sister said. "I'm pregnant. You're going to be an aunt!"

I couldn't speak. I couldn't utter words. This was a combination of shock and excitement as well as heartbreak and jealousy.

Let me explain this portion further.

I was married at a young age. I wanted a baby. I was so ready to be a mother. I was not in the situation to have one and thankfully never did become pregnant. I was ready again at another point in another marriage. Again I was not given a child and thankfully so. Today I am almost 30 years old, single for almost 4 years and my body on a daily basis emotionally craves being pregnant. I am not trying to sound selfish, but I'm being honest. I have long since taken care of a beautiful child named Ayvee who for almost 3 years has given me my baby fix, but in all honesty, I believe I was born to be a mother.

Imagine being a little girl and you've wanted this toy. You've prayed and pleaded and written santa letter after letter explaining how good you've been and how much your heart desires this specific thing. Imagine doing that for some where around 7 years. Then one day, your sibling gets the toy. Your sibling gets the toy and they're so happy. They're dancing and cheering and throwing a little girl dance party at the excitement they feel of this exciting new thing. So you're happy. You're excited for them and also, you get to play with the toy now too because siblings share and so in part you kind of got what you wishes for. But not completely. It's not actually YOUR toy. You don't get to take it home, and wake up to it every morning, and sleep with it in bed if you want to. You don't get to keep the toy forever, it has to go back to your sibling when you're done playing with it. But again... Look how happy they are. So you smile, and you cheer too, and you laugh and pretend not to be heart broken and jealous. You hold it together until you're alone. Then you can sob and cry. You can cry out to god (and santa) and ask why? And beg for your toy to come soon. Please. Please come soon.

Does that help?

As the weeks since this news has gone on i've become so excited and that initial shock has left me. My heart is literally EXPLODING at the thought of this precious child that I get to love on for the rest of my freaking life.

I stopped writing the post above half way through, and to be honest, I don't remember what this was about. But, maybe publishing it will be useful.

Thank you guys for reading.

Love is patient. Love is kind.

"Love is Patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

1 Corinthians 13:4-6

Don't worry. I'm not going to go into a testimony of Jesus and tell everyone that they need to be a christian in order to find love and happiness. Although, I am a christian, don't be thrown off by the bible verse. Are your ready? Let's dive into that verse with an open mind, Shall we?? Here we go. 

We all desire to be loved. We're human. That's how we function. I believe that even those with the most sociopathic tendencies truly only desire love and acceptance. Even the most evil person you can think of desired love at some point. It's very possible that the reason someone so evil is the way they are is because they were not given love. True, deep, enduring love. It's sad. And while we should be aware of people we should also be understanding and proactive to not build resentment towards such treatment. Rather, remove yourself from it.

Recently I have experienced a different kind of love than i'm used to and it's got me to thinking. What do we think love is? What do we expect? What do we tolerate, and why? Why for so long was it okay for me to accept love that was less than satisfactory and much less than I deserved. At some points, downright abusive and manipulative. Okay, at most points in my past. Why did I hear words of hate and turn them in my head into cries for help? Why do I have a savior complex? Why do I still see woman do the same as grown adults? I think this comes from out inability to believe that we are quite literally worth the world. We are WORTH everything stated in this verse above. We are worth patience and kindness. And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

I have a friend who was telling me about how she was recently spoken to by a man she loves. It made me so angry. His way of breaking her down to make her small so he could control her was by belittling her actions and making her feel guilty for standing up for herself and for what she deserves. That's bullshit. When a man says things like, " See, there you go again. It's always about you, isn't it?" I think its rarely ever about her. Actually, it's always about him and he doesn't want to make it even slightly about her. So any distraction from HIS personal NEEDS seems an incredible inconvenience. THAT IS NOT LOVE. THAT IS CONTROL. When a man speaks to you and says things like isn't it? Don't you? That's what I thought. or, makes you feel like shit for asking for simple things. Like, "GOD, can you be any more needy? I think I need a break. I feel like I just can't give you enough." Unless you're seriously codependent and you're needs are beyond his ability because of your own personal insecurities, this man is an asshole. And you should probably just walk away. Even IF your needs are at times difficult to meet, and man who understands love will do his very best, WITH PATIENCE to meet them. To make you feel secure. He will rejoice in trying his very best in trying to love you as deeply as he can.

Another example is a man yelling at you. Even a little. I don't care what you've been told or what you believe. You're about to change it? Got it? 

No man, should ever raise his voice to you. Not even slightly. Again, a real man who understands real love should have the emotional capacity to know when to take an F'n walk and calm down. Gather himself and return to you in a humble way to discuss whatever it is you're BOTH worked up about in a way that is helpful to your relationship. There is ZERO need to yell. No need to put someone down that you love to help protect you from the possibility of being hurt by her, or, just hurt by life. Because life is a bitch. Suit up baby, you're alive. There's no turning back. 

This brings me to my next point. Commitment. It's necessary. 

If a man is afraid of it, let him date the young girl he met at the gym who has zero thought of babies and a future. The one who just wants to be taken to dinner and given nice jewelry and be seen around town with him. She's perfect for him. Seriously. 

ALSO- There is nothing wrong with her either. 

She's just in a different place than you, and you want more than him. 

I promise. 

Do not allow a man to be intimate with you, then just be on his merry way. I'm a (close to) 30 year old woman and I can confidently tell you that if you find a man who isn't too stoked on waiting on sex until you're both confident in your commitment to one another he is actually just a shallow, self seeking individual who will never provide you with that you desire. And deserve. Some men never want commitment. That's okay! again, he's free to be whomever he would like. But he's not for you. Don't start sleeping with a man you really like who straight up told you he wasn't looking for a relationship thinking your amazing personality and body, and sure let's even add wardrobe and education; will change him. It won't. You could be the most perfect specimen of female on the planet and I can tell you that if a man doesn't want to commit to a woman.. he won't. If he doesn't want kids, you're not going to make him desire to learn to swaddle a baby no matter how many photos you send him while you're babysitting your friends newborn. He doesn't give a shit about baby noises. In fact, he probably at this point just wants you to stop making noises. If he does not want a commitment, he isn't for you. Why? Because you do. It's super simple. IF you're one of those free, independent women who say things like, "well I don't either. I don't want to be in a relationship. I enjoy my freedom." BAHAHAHAHA. Okay gurl! I see you. And I hear you. I also want to tell you that the reason you say that is because some man at some point shattered your heart and your idea of what you deserve. You think being completely in control will protect you. Don't worry, you're not alone. I was there too. But i'm sorry to break it to you...  It's false. But whatever, sister live that single girl dream! HAPPY HOUR IS FROM 4-6 AND BUMBLE NOW HAS BFF MODE. Literally, you're set.

All in all love is very simple. That's why I placed this verse at the top. Love is patient. Find a man who looks at you and actually sees you, therefor wants to be there. Wants to have the patience to handle whatever may come you way. Love is kind. You know what kindness is. Don't settle for anything less from an individual you're deciding to give your heart to. Let's be smart here. it doesn't not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. There is no need for competition within a partnership. If you see that, be aware and make smart decisions. It's a red flag. NOT a decorative banner. If you and your partner are grumpy and annoyed or downright angry more than you find joy in their presence. It's doomed. If there is no forgiveness for mistakes made, there can be no progress. A running tally of how many times each of you are harmed the other makes no sense and does no good for anyone. Including you. Little do you realize that holding onto the wrongs that your partner has done to you does nothing but build resentment inside you toward them therefor making it next to impossible for you to exercise love. And lastly, trust. If you feel that you can not trust the person you are sharing your life with, you are in a situation I do not envy and I encourage you to quickly remove yourself.

So now you've read my long ramble about love. It may seem this is a guide to dating and relationships, and who in the hell qualified me, Danielle Dudek to give you that advise? I'm divorced and single for over 3 years now. You would be crazy to take it from me. Well, then don't. I didn't write that statement above.

And most of all what I learned about love in the recent months is that if I treat MYSELF with that much love no single person in this universe will ever get away with giving me anything less. I believe the verse in the bibles goes for seeking a partner, but also.. in nurturing yourself. When you love yourself deeply you will never again question your worth, and guess what?
NEITHER WILL ANYONE ELSE, EVER AGAIN.

I love you.
Press On Pretty Girls.
You deserve it.

XO,
DANI

157 or 200+ it doesn't matter. I see the same girl.

This post will be a hard one to write. Or maybe an easy one. Or maybe both.

Two days ago I was sitting on my living room floor and I'm crying. I couldn't stop. I recently have developed an absolute hatred for my body. I feel so incredibly "fat" and I hate the way I look. I stare at myself all day. I pull on my skin and the places where I have body fat that I hate. I can't stand the way I have become and I don't understand it. Two months ago I loved my progress. I loved my muscular build and suddenly I think and feel like a fat, ugly, undesirable woman. I know that my life is falling into place exactly as I have always dreamed it would. I am happy with my career. My friends and the things we do and way we support each other is wonderful. I am happy in terms of romance. I just hate the way I look. BUT what does that do to all my other relationships? It puts heavy stress on them as I reach for something to fill the hole in me that comes from negative self image obsession.

A few days ago I stopped tracking macros. I stopped lifting according to my plan given to me by my coach because I started feeling completely obsessive. I promised myself that if my bodybuilding ever got to a place where I was mentally unhealthy that I would stop. Having suffered from anorexia and body dysmorphia I am well aware that I can be my own worst enemy. A week ago one of my best friends came to me and expressed concern. She said it worries her and others the way I see myself. I had been told this before. I can't remember the last time I felt truly 100% comfortable with the way I looked. I can be told how beautiful I am. How my story has helped others grow, and learn, and change and become the happy, beautiful women I am BEGGING you all to be. But the truth is I am also one of you. And I also struggle.

It is likely that I struggle harder. I truthfully believe that those who feel the most broken throw themselves into the spotlight to FEEL better. However these same individuals who you see and think, Wow! I wish I was that confident. That fit! that comfortable in my skin! are likely the ones who sit at home ripping themselves apart in private. I have chosen to do mine in a way of encouragement but that isn't always the case.

 I wish so badly I could tell you all that I am the confident woman you follow on instagram all the time. That the way I see myself is covered in glitter and feeling like I am 100% enough just because I am me. But that's a lie. And it's time I stop lying to you guys.

Yesterday I came to my coach with tears rolling down my face and told him I couldn't do this. Not that I couldn't, but I wont. I will not continue to degrade myself. I am in no way growing positivity from competitive body building anymore and that is a sign for me that it's time to stop. I am a pretty black or white type of gal. I commit fully to everything I decide to do. I give one hundred percent of my effort. I love with all my heart. I exhaust myself in pursuit of my dreams. I just don't stop. Part of my discomfort with this entire experience is finding the balance between healthy, and obsessed, and then finding the courage to "quit" if I've crossed a line. I don't quit. Not on people. Not on tasks. And not on myself. So this is the hardest thing I have done in a while.

I also have no idea how to eat anymore. I know what healthy eating looks like. I am knowledgeable but the only thing I have done since 2012 when living healthy, was track my food. The times that I didn't track I was in an opposite type of spiral. A binge eating spiral and gained 60lbs consuming enough wine to sustain italian families for a year and enough nacho's to make a family fiesta look like a seat at the kids table. Girl can eat. And girl can eat herself sick.

So this is weird. Eating is weird. Eating a salad with feta AND avocado is hard for me. Also the olive oil in the dressing. Essentially to me i'm currently eating a bowl of fat macros that far exceeds my daily count. I have no developed another type of eating disorder. UGH.

Yesterday I drank a fresh pressed juice of carrot, apple and pineapple. It was delicious. But i've never done that. Why? Because carrots are carbs. Apples are carbs. Pineapples are carbs. And if i'm going to ingest carbs you bet your ass it's going to be in the form of bread. Or rice cake PB & J's. 4 of them for the amount of carbs that were in my micro nutrient packed juice.

I'm doing my best today. But this is hard. I stumbled upon an eating phycologist via IG and reached out to her. I am talking with friends of mine who intuitively eat and they're helping me understand. I am using trial and error to see what my body reacts to. But let me explain what the last week has been like. There is a little TMI here, so deal with it, we're all adults.

- I am finally going to the bathroom regularly. The last 5 months I have had a lot of issues with this and have taken everything from fiber supplements to laxatives to help me relieve discomfort.

- I feel full. I am not hungry. Sure when it clearly comes time to eat, I begin to feel hungry but I am no longer craving things that are essentially taking over my mind. I have been craving carbs this entire prep. Like truthfully can't live without it or I feel anxious. Since I stopped counting and started eating Micro Nutrient packed foods I don't crave anything! I just eat. It's so crazy to me.

- I feel more energized. This isn't BS you guys. I'm doing my workouts 5 days at week at Nth Degree  and ripping through them. My run feels better. My body feels like it's WORKING for me not me working it. Does that make sense?

- I am leaner. I don't even know. I weigh more. My weight at the lowest during my prep was 157lbs. I am 160lbs as of today but I am noticeably leaner.

- I feel more alert. My head has been extremely foggy the last few months. I wasn't sleeping well. Waking up every couple hours. A lot of tossing and turning which in turn kind of made me a walking zombie. I am one of those annoying happy people with ADHD so naturally I have a lot of energy but I could tell the difference within myself. For instance I had not posted here on this blog because I could not think of anything to write about. I tried several times to sit down and write. Nothing came to mind.

That's just this week and my first week. We shall see.

This blog post is kind of just to type it all out. To be honest with those who follow my journey. I know so many people have watched me prep with no competition date announced and maybe thought, hmmm, what is she up to. So now that I am throwing out a giant plot twist I thought an explanation was in order. HEY YOU GUYSSSS, I'M QUITTING BODYBUILDING!!!!!!! may have been sufficient, but i'm long winded.

Thank you all so much for the encouragement and support over the last 2.5 ish years of me figuring myself out. I still am shocked daily that so many strangers care about me, my future and my past, but let me tell you- it's the coolest, most rewarding thing to be connected to all of you.

As always,
Love you long time.

Let's start this next chapter together.

Thanks for being a part of my #PressOnPrettyGirl Team.