Trust Your Gut is a series of stories about real people with weight issues, and complications arising from those issues. It will explain what the person is facing, what their options are, what they have decided to do to take action, and why they chose the path they are on. Each person’s story will be based on truth, so it won’t all be happy, but it will be real. The goal of this series is to get people talking about options that are available for people who have weight issues, on either end of the scale. If you would like to contribute to this series, please contact Tish. I know there are people out there that want to help people like them; as I do.
The names here may or may not reflect the person’s real name. If someone wants to remain unknown, we will choose a different name for that person’s story. The goal is to help people, and anonymity is a valid personal choice for contributors. I will use a person’s name only if they give permission to do so.
This week I am pleased to share the story of a friend. It is written in her own words, and she submitted it with her permission to share it as a part of the series.
Here is Trust Your Gut: Jane’s Story; Charting My Weight | Gaining Perspective
I have spent over 40 years in a love-hate relationship with my weight. As a result, I have many, many records of my weight at various times—weights were taken at the Doctor’s office, at various weight loss programs, and at home. An excellent record for purposes of analysis—after so many ups and downs over the years, I can look at my weight with some perspective.
I began my first weight loss efforts in Grade 9 (!) at the urging of a Physical Education Teacher. I weighed 118 pounds. She gave me the Mayo Clinic Diet of the day and my poor mother must have been frantic supplying me with hard-boiled eggs and grapefruit which is all I can remember eating.
The next weight loss effort was in Grade 11 with TOPS (Take Off Pounds Sensibly). My only memory from TOPS are fragmented bits of the motto: “I am an Intelligent person … every time I am tempted to overeat in private … my excess poundage is there for all the world to see … what a fool I’ve been.” In 1972, I left Grade 12 at 168 pounds.
Art by Jane Tims “Disgusted Face”
Armed with these rather dubious wisdoms, I spent the next eight years in an upward pattern that would govern the rest of my young adult years. I joined Weight Watchers which did teach me something about eating behaviors, returned to TOPS a time or two, attended sessions with a dietician, and designed my own wellness systems many, many times.
Now, years later, I realise that my weight really started to climb when I had my own money, was preparing my own food, and was under work stresses I never encountered in school or university.
When I was married, I weighed 180 pounds.
I was fit and active. My work in those days meant hiking and climbing regularly to wilderness places throughout the province. I was fit and active, but I was fat. I could not shake the belief that I didn’t look as good as I should. And looking good was all-important.
That, I realise now, was beside the point. The challenge was to stay fit and active—to avoid high blood pressure and all its risks, stress on my knees and back, and diabetes. My goal should have been to live a long and able life.
When I was 30, I had a baby, the best thing I ever did for so many reasons! But I had a difficult pregnancy and spent most of it inactive and on my back and I gained weight. I topped the scales at 280 pounds and spent the next thirty years trying to get rid of the weight.
Art by Jane Tims “Frowning Face”
My Doctor tried to help me. My Mom tried harder than anyone, including me.
She copied out diets that might interest me. She sent me twenty dollars a month (I made a decent salary of my own) to buy healthy snack foods. She suggested things she thought might help me lose weight. I realise now, as a Mom, she wanted good health for me and, like me, had no magic wand to help her daughter be healthier. By the time I was forty, I had high blood pressure, and lots of medications to control it. By the time I was fifty, I had Type 2 Diabetes, and lots of meds to control it. And I had a trusty cane, the first hint of the osteoarthritis that now plagues me every day and keeps me from being fit and active.
Art by Jane Tims “Unimpressed Face”
When I retired from work in 2012 at 58, I lost a lot of the stress that ruled my life and I think I finally got a clue. I started a program of exercise, stationary cycling accompanied by seeing the world virtually (with Street View). Over the next years, I cycled through central France, southern Ireland, the Cornwall coast of England, and northern New Brunswick. This month I am ‘touring Scotland and the home of my ancestors. I got control of my diabetes with insulin and a wonderful medication called Forxiga which also results in some weight loss. And this past summer, I had a bout with salivary gland cancer.
During the process of surgery and radiation, I lost my sense of taste for a few weeks. At the end of that time, I find am no longer interested in food as a way of approaching life. I am more interested in building back the muscle mass I lost while lounging around the hospital between radiation treatments last summer.
I am now at 214 pounds, and still on the way down. The last time I weighed 214 was when I was 28 years old. I am not really aiming for any particular weight, but I’d really like to fit into my wedding dress again.
So, what is the ‘magic wand?’ Oh, how I wish I knew.
I know that human beings have one major fault: ‘the bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.’ So that slice of blueberry pie will always look more delightful than the bottles and bottles of blue blood pressure pills you might never have to take (since I started taking them in 1994, I have taken 19,656 pills of Inderol to control my blood pressure). That bowl of ice cream will always taste better than days and days of blood glucose readings under 7.0. And that chocolate bar will always smell more delicious than leaving the cane or walker in the closet where it belongs.
You can have good things to eat but only once in a while and in smaller portions. And you can spend as much time as possible walking and swimming and cycling. Save yourself a huge amount of misery down the road.
Art by Jane Tims “Smiling Face”
If you’d like to follow my progress on getting fit and active, have a look at my blog.
Thank you Jane for your honesty and for sharing your story here. I know it can be hard to put it all out there, but it is time that people like us speak out to try to help others. It is interesting to see your chart, and I love the artwork you submitted. Keep celebrating every little success, and be proud that your decision is certainly the right one for you. I am very impressed with your success and determination. Keep going, my friend, you are an inspiration!
This is Trust Your Gut | What Did My Brain Just Tell Me? Trust Your Gut is a series of blog posts that began on February 2, 2017. In this first blog, I introduce the concept of the category and begin to share my own story. In this blog, specifically, I write about something very dangerous. Denial.
Trust Your Gut is a series of stories about real people with weight issues, and complications arising from those issues. It will explain what the person is facing, what their options are, what they have decided to do to take action, and why they chose the path they are on. Each person’s story will be based on truth, so it won’t all be happy, but it will be real. The goal of this series is to get people talking about options that are available for people that have weight issues, on either end of the scale. If you would like to contribute to this series, there is a contact form linked on my Home page for this blog. I know there are people out there that want to help people like them, as I do.
The names here may or may not reflect the person’s real name. If someone wants to remain unknown, we will choose a different name for that person’s story. The goal is to help people, and anonymity is a valid personal choice for contributors. I will use a person’s name only if they give permission to do so.
Here is Trust Your Gut:Tish’s Story; Part 83.
In just about every online space you go, these days, at least in the platforms I use on a regular basis, people are talking a lot about mindset. The power of the mind is a miraculous thing when it is being used for a greater purpose. It can also lead people down the wrong path. I am not writing about the criminal mind, nor the mind of people who have mental health issues in this case, though. I am writing about how it can make you believe something that just isn’t true. In this case, I am writing about denial.
I love to read, especially fantasy and science fiction.
This love for reading has allowed me to expand my own creative horizons and write two books, with many other projects, and more to come, God willing. I love my imagination, and the way I can create worlds in my writing, with the hopes of fascinating readers with what I publish. When you read for pleasure, you also read to capture a bit of escapism from the real world.
I have been reading some books by Jim Butcher, who is the author of The Dresden Files. The main character, Harry, is a wizard for hire in these books, and I quite enjoy reading all of the trouble he gets into and manages to wiggle his way out of. It is a similar type of character that I have created more than once when I have been playing Dungeons and Dragons. Some of those characters have had fantastic adventures, the kind legends are born from. By doing the same thing as this wizard, in their own way.
Not too long ago, I was reading one of these books, called White Night. In this book, a character description made me pause and shake my head at what I heard myself thinking. The character was a mafia bodyguard, male, and he was described as massive, at over three hundred pounds. I thought to myself, “That’s not that big. I weigh over three hundred pounds.” It was at this moment I had to stop myself from reading, to process what I was thinking in response to that character description.
I then thought to myself, “Wait a minute. What did my brain just tell me?”
It was at this time I reread the paragraph and took a moment to process the amount of denial my brain has been feeding to me for the majority of my life. Three hundred pounds IS big. The distribution of the weight also plays a huge factor in this realization.
A person who is significantly taller than my five foot two and three-quarters of an inch in height would have the benefit of a larger area to distribute this much weight. Plus, it is a character described as a bodyguard, which would also have a different muscle to fat composition than I do. This character would be healthier, and not morbidly obese. Yet the weight of three hundred pounds is described as massive. I needed to proceed carefully as I processed this information.
I am still very mobile, even though lately I have had a hard time catching my breath. I can get up and down, walk and dance. I can sprint if there is a short distance to be covered and time to recover on the other side of that sprint. But I know that the distribution of my weight is all on the front side of my body, and it is more fat than muscle. And I got on the scale last week. I now weigh more than I did when I took that picture. It was really disappointing, but it is one reason why I am trying to do better.
I’m not going to make the mistake of thinking I am massive.
A part of last week’s story comes from the fact that people tell me I don’t look as big as I am, and that I carry the weight well. I am tired of not looking the way I feel. I do not see myself as massive, nor do I see myself as morbidly obese. When I look in the mirror, I just see myself. When I step on the scale, I see a number. Higher or lower than the last time, but nonetheless a number. This past week, it was 336.4 lbs. I am not in a hurry to get back on a scale after seeing this number, but when I do, I will share it for accountability. It is time to start dancing more every day.
On a positive note, I sang with the radio in the bathroom today to, “I want to dance with somebody” by Whitney Houston. I was done in the shower, and stayed in there to sing my heart out, and dance a little bit. When the song was over, I peeked around the corner at Roy and sang, “Don’t you want to dance, say you want to dance, don’t you want to dance?” His reply was, “Oh, I heard you singing.” He is not a fan of my singing, not at all. I said, “GOOD!” as I bopped down the hallway. We both laughed. I am doing better because I am trying harder. For now, that is what I am focusing on. Just doing as much as I can to be better.
When was the last time you had a reality check? #TrustYourGut
When I wrote my very first Trust Your Gut, on February 2, 2017, it started with an intro like this:
Trust Your Gut is a series of stories about real people with weight issues, and complications arising from those issues. It will explain what the person is facing, what their options are, what they have decided to do to take action, and why they chose the path they are on. Each person’s story will be based on truth, so it won’t all be happy, but it will be real. The goal of this series is to get people talking about options that are available for people that have weight issues, on either end of the scale. If you would like to contribute to this series, there is a contact form linked on my Home page for this blog. I know there are people out there that want to help people like them, as I do.
The names here may or may not reflect the person’s real name. If someone wants to remain unknown, we will choose a different name for that person’s story. The goal is to help people, and anonymity is a valid personal choice for contributors. I will use a person’s name only if they give permission to do so.
Since then, I have written numerous entries into this category. Most of them have been about my own story and struggles. There have been a few guest entries, and I am still open to more in the future.
Somewhere along the way, I lost the urge to blog. I took a break, When it became a long break, I just focused on other parts of my life for a while. Then I moved my website. While I am finally getting back to work with my blogs, I wanted to revisit the original post that started them all, and drop that link above for anyone who wants to check out the very first one. I encourage you to read them all, of course, but I think a reflection on where I started to where I am now is a nice place to start.
In May, 2020, I experienced something that I have not had to deal with personally in a long time.
I was the target of a Backyard Bully.
It was a nice sunny day, and I was not yet working at my part-time day job. It was a Saturday, and I was wearing a pair of leggings and a t-shirt. I had no plans to go anywhere when I picked out my outfit, that day.
I remember Roy, my husband, saying he wanted to go run an errand. I decided I would like to go with him, but thought I should change. He assured me that I looked fine, and that we should just go as we were. So we ran the errand.
When we got home, I decided it would be nice to go out into our yard to take pictures of the different little flowers that had delighted me when they grew in the spring. They are wildflowers. Some are commonly referred to as weeds, but after being cooped up all winter, and trying to find things to do while being home, it seemed like a reasonable option to me. So, I got my camera, and out I went into the yard. It was so sunny and warm that I didn’t even need a jacket.
I started in the front yard. I found a patch of forget me nots, and some dandelions.
Forget Me Nots and Dandelions from my front yard.
As I played with my camera, and wandered to the backyard, I noticed bags of garbage beside my neighbour’s shed. I don’t go out into the backyard very often, and I thought to myself that I hoped it didn’t always look like that. I shrugged my shoulders and found more flowers with my camera lens.
Little white flowers in my backyard
As I focused through the lens of my camera, I heard my neighbours in their shed. I was relieved to realize that they were doing spring cleaning in their own yard, and glad there was a reason for the garbage bags behind me. As I continued walking through my yard, taking pictures of the little flowers, I heard my neighbour make this comment to his wife, “Will you look at that.”
I didn’t hear her reply, and for a moment, I just thought he was commenting about the neighbour wandering around in her own backyard with a big fancy camera, taking pictures of weeds. Then, it dawned on me what he was really commenting about.
I was wearing my leggings and t-shirt out in public. It wasn’t a longer t-shirt, but it matched my leggings nicely.
He was referring to his own disgust at seeing a woman weighing over three hundred pounds in leggings and a t-shirt.
It took a few moments for me to regain my composure. I had my back to them. I took a deep breath, and took one last photo.
One tiny flower
I felt about as small as that flower in the picture, the one all by itself.
The words of the backyard bully stung an old wound, one I have fought against ever since I encountered bullies for the first time as a child.
I may not have lost a lot of weight since I have started writing in this blog category, but I have spent a lot of time working on me.
Previously, I would have let those words into my heart, to pierce it like so many mean things people have said to and about me before. Just as I had let my self talk reveal the ugly nature of the backyard bully’s words in my mind, I had to talk myself out of letting them have power over me.
I told my husband and some friends what had happened. I was angry, but I was not sobbing quietly to myself from the sting of the words. I was angry.
Had those words been about someone else that I was with, the person I am now would have stood up for the other person. In those few minutes while I finished taking pictures, I talked myself out of running away to cry. I finished what I was doing, then walked to the front of my house and went back inside.
The joy of my afternoon was lost.
I still have the pictures, and shared them on my social media, without the ugliness of the hurtful words. I can still smile when I see them, but I also remember what tainted a beautiful afternoon.
One friend said that people who are that mean need extra kindness in their lives.
I still disagree. I see no need to reward a jackass for being an asshole.
Which is how I feel about what happened.
As difficult as it was for me to remain calm and quiet while I finished taking the pictures that afternoon, I realized in the midst of dealing with it that I was not reacting like I used to. My self talk had averted what would have previously been a meltdown.
I decided that I would not give the backyard bully the satisfaction of making me feel miserable about my body image. It is not the body of an athlete, but it is a body that uses layers of fat as a cushion against the harshness of the world around it. Becoming angry or upset and lashing out would not have ended well. I know that from my other experiences with bullies. Being quiet and walking away was difficult. But I did it, and I can be proud of how I handled myself and my feelings in that situation.
I have grown up.
Bullies still exist, and sadly, they probably always will. How I react to them is not in their control, not anymore. It is me who decides how to react to bullies. Although the occurrences are less in my adult life, they still happen. The difference is that I am in control of how I react to the situation and that I can choose to not hold the words in my heart where they will do the worst damage. I do not forget, but I do not let the words of bullies have power over me anymore.
A new year is approaching and I look forward to it with hope, as I have every year. I am also working on making better choices again. I decided to start now, instead of waiting for the new year to start fresh. By implementing small changes now, I will develop better habits to be already established by the time the new year begins. It seems different, this time, and I truly hope that I can see the results of my hard work as I create a new habit on a weekly basis to add up to a healthier version of me.
I have had a few things on the go in the last few weeks, and I wasn’t sure how to tackle this story until the night before last. What I have been working on includes one part of the journey is from my childhood.
I call it the salt cod incident.
If you have never eaten salt cod, I consider you among a lucky group of people. In my opinion, salt cod is gross, and it was in our meal rotation when I was a child.
I have shared that I would strive to be the first one to clean my plate at the supper table to get the desired dessert. It became my thing. To me, it was a daily reward for something I could do well. When I would ask what was for dessert and I was told to have fruit, I felt disappointment. I would still eat it, but it didn’t qualify as dessert to me, when I was a kid.
One night, I was about four, we had company for supper. And salt cod was the protein on my plate. There was not enough green tomato chow in the world to cover the taste of the salt cod.
I made a plan.
My four year old self wanted to get dessert. She also did not want to eat the salt cod. She decided that she would stuff as much of the salt cod as she could into her cheeks, go to the bathroom and spit the fish into the toilet. Really creative for a four year old, when I think back to it.
My parents were not fooled by the chipmunk cheeks. I was not allowed to go to the bathroom. Instead, I was taken to a bedroom and yelled at to swallow my supper. I defiantly yelled, “No!” for as long as I could stand to. I was having a battle of wills with my father. He was rightly concerned that I would choke on the fish if I kept stuffing it into my cheeks without swallowing it. We also did not waste food in my home.
Eventually, a tearful four year old returned to the kitchen table to finish her supper.
Why am I sharing this story?
In the VIBE Method of Emotional Weight Release with Coach Elaine, we work on the emotional side of our journey. After having a breakthrough in August, and continuing to work while learning the VIBE Method, things are looking better than they have in a really long time.
A few weeks ago, it looked like I had lost a significant amount of weight. As a result, I am not focusing on the fluctuations right now. Instead, I am focusing on being kind to myself, and making smarter choices. I no longer eat quickly. Dessert isn’t an option every evening. I am not letting food determine how I plan my day. (This is HUGE for me).
After I expressed the feelings of turmoil, I participated in a private coaching session. When the weight climbed up higher on the scale, I wasn’t sure I handled week three the way I was supposed to. I knew I would need help to find out why I felt like things were in turmoil. I used this word to describe how I was feeling in week four. It was our last week, and I didn’t understand why I felt that way.
We started what was supposed to be a 45 minute session with my uncertainty. I shared this with Coach Elaine, and she wanted to run through all four weeks in a recap with me. Not in the detail of each week as we worked in the group, but to review what I had worked on to find out where the bump in the road was.
Putting it all together
After our two hour long additional coaching session, I am really glad we scheduled an extra session. It was the right thing for me to do, to ask for help.
Upon further reflection and discovery, we worked through one of the processes again. I realized that when I was four, the battle of the wills was when I started feeling like I wasn’t being HEARD. I was screaming, but what I had to say didn’t matter, because in this instance, I was wrong. When I have something to say, I give up when someone is not listening to me. This is something I am working on.
I wouldn’t say I have ever lost my voice, however I have had to learn how to speak louder so that I can be heard, and more importantly, taken seriously. For this to be effective, I have to believe in myself.
During our coaching session, the words VALUE and WORTHY became a part of the conversation. I needed to explore why the salt cod incident was so prominent in my mind. We were working with the first memory we had when our feelings weren’t validated.
The screaming match is what I remembered. Not that it was abusive, not that it was meant to hurt me, but because what I was expressing was not being treated as a valid reason for what I was trying to do.
Where does the dream come into the picture?
The night before last, I had a dream. It was what I was waiting for to help me to write this entry. I was dreaming that I managed to spend time with a movie star. I won’t put a name to him, I will leave it to your imagination. He was telling me that he wished I wasn’t married.
Even in my dreams, I remain loyal to my husband. I have had other dreams, and I always put a stop to things before they get carried away, even in my subconscious mind. I love my husband so much, I couldn’t ever dream of cheating on him. Not even with a movie star.
This movie star was put into the friend zone, in my dream. The next part of my dream had me telling Roy that I was elated because this movie star found me desirable. Worthy of wanting a relationship with. We were talking about my feelings, and the word JOY came to my mind. I was feeling absolute joy that someone other than my husband found value in having a conversation with me. The next words I received were: Isn’t it obvious? Everything was clicking into place. The work I have been doing in my conscious mind has crossed into my subconscious and into my dreams.
Before I woke up, Roy and I were trying to find this movie star at the end of my dream. Roy was helping me because I really wanted to express my gratitude to him for the messages I was receiving. I woke up before I was able to complete this, but it wasn’t a necessary step for my own progress. I got the message.
What I have to say does have value.I am worthyof love, just as I am.
I may not have all the answers, but I am open to the messages I need to receive to be able to grow as a person and make the changes I need to reflect on the outside the work I am doing on the inside.
Happy Valentine’s Day! It seemed rather appropriate to write about the heart today. Heart health is important and should not be ignored. This post is not going to be one which is full of facts, spouting all the do and don’t guidelines for the organ’s health. Consequently, you are wondering, what am I going to write about?
The heart for me is a complicated topic. As a creative, I am very in tune with my emotions, which also relate to my heart. Every single beat of my heart wants to spread love and positivity far and wide. I have a strong heart, I am lucky. It can take a lot of use in its various functions, traditional and non-traditional. Let’s explore what I am writing about.
Traditional Use
The heart pumps blood to every cell in your body and back in an impressively short amount of time. Constantly. When your heart is physically healthy, it is powerful. I like to think of mine as strong. I have had concerns, especially since I am morbidly obese. As a result of my concerns, I do have it checked when something feels wrong. I have been assured that my heart is not the source of any medical concern when I do get it checked. This tells me it is strong, physically.
Regular exercise is something I have been slack – a- lacking on in the last few months. Several, if I am being totally honest with you. I used to go to Zumba on a regular schedule, twice a week. The location has moved, and with my previous work schedules, it wasn’t always possible to make it in time for the class. The summer was very hot and humid, the price of gas was another reason, and I just stopped going. Once in a blue moon, I would have all the stars align to allow me to go, but it was painfully clear that I am now really out of shape again. I may be in the worst shape of my life as I write this.
It’s not like I don’t know what I have to do. I have to actually do it.
I have to stop making excuses, and just exercise. Last week a good friend encouraged me to walk 20 minutes a day. I countered with a plan to dance in my living room instead. Then I didn’t take action. That is on me. I let one excuse become two and then I had seven days of excuses, with maybe five minutes of dancing in the bathroom the other day. I play music when I am in the shower. It helps to keep me on track, and starts my day off a little happier because I add in music. My feet don’t move when I dance in the tub, for safety reasons. Before I get into the shower, however, I may be moved to dance to a whole song.
My husband even gave me a deadline to get the living room cleaned, which I have held in my mind but not really acted on yet. I have started. I have puttered at it. But it is still an excuse. So I need to take action on this also. Any movement at all counts right now. I know it is important. It is time to change the tune inside my head, to maintain the healthy heart I have. It works hard, so I need to honour it by taking better care of it.
Non-Traditional Use
The emotional side of me is all heart. I want to help people, I want people around me to be happy. When I am working on this and focusing on the needs of others, rather than on my own, it can be exhausting. This is the type of person I am, and I am learning that I need to also be a protector of my own heart, so it stays strong, emotionally. It might sound odd from a scientific point of view, but it is my truth. My heart is connected to me, and to everything around me.
I have been known to go above and beyond what is required on a project. I am an overachiever. It is in my nature to put the needs of others ahead of my own. This is a common issue for me and for many other people. We want to make sure everyone else is taken care of before taking care of ourselves. This can cause me to lose sleep, and become difficult to be around if you are not the person I am working on the project for. When this happens, I should stop and take a break. If there is a deadline, even a self – imposed one, I am not always able to stop.
I need to be more aware of this so I am giving my best all of the time, instead of focusing it on one project and letting the other areas of my life fall aside; as if they are not important. As if I am not important.
My creative interpretation of a photo challenge prompt. Something she wore.
She wears her heart on her sleeve
One thing about being in touch with your emotions and embracing them means that if you are a heart-centered person like myself, we wear our hearts on our sleeves. I took red lipstick and black eyeliner to drew the heart on my arm to give a visual representation to what I know is my truth. I successfully completed the challenge, and have some remarkable photos I am very proud of taking as a result of participating.
This leads me to my final thoughts, back to emotions. I have been working on myself, and I am starting to see some positive results from the changes I am making. From the very heart of my being, I know I need to do more. It isn’t easy. If it was, we would all be healthy, active, emotionally balanced people. I embrace all of my emotions, and I need the full spectrum of what that means. I wouldn’t want to be any other way.
People look at me and assume that because I am morbidly obese, I am eating all the time, and lazy. I will admit to the laziness, I am working on overcoming it, in relation to my physical activity levels. This doesn’t mean I am not a hard worker, though. I give my all to everything I do work on.
Morbidly obese people who have issues don’t eat all of the time, however, we can eat our feelings.
It is not healthy, and I have done this to avoid facing my feelings. This is one very real thing that has contributed to my weight. It is not the defining factor, though. For me, it comes down to choices. I choose whether or not to be active. Choosing to eat a whole box of chocolates or a large bag of chips to eat my feelings away, instead of facing them. As a result of that choice, I may feel full, or even not well because of it, but I am not facing what is really going on in my life. Choosing fast food instead of taking an hour to cook. These choices add up. To one very important realization.
I am choosing the easy way because I do not feel like I am important enough to choose the better option. It is easier to avoid the issue rather than face feelings and deal with them. Choosing to do better is something I am working on. It is hard. There are so many choices available to me now that I am going to make the wrong ones sometimes. What do I need to do? Start taking action, by making better choices. This is truly the heart of the matter.
Let’s help each other to make better choices. How are you spending your Valentine’s Day? How are you showing yourself that you are important? Please, let me know in the comments.
