self-help

Realizing That Happiness Isn’t Size Specific

/ Candace Smith / Leave a comment

From the time I was a High School freshman to now, my weight has fluctuated by 30 lbs and I have had to alternate between my “skinny” jeans and the ones I desperately avoid looking at the label. My greatest frustration through all of this has been looking back at how healthy and fit I was at different times and then looking at myself, wondering how I let it all go. Weight loss has never been easy for me, particularly because of the unfortunate pairing of a seemingly MIA metabolism and my extreme love of all food (spicy/seafood need not apply).

At a young age, I charmed my parents by growling “I’m a carnivore” while devouring baby back ribs and the like, while I would go to great lengths to avoid green food. As an adult I have a fairly balanced diet, but it is still a constant struggle to achieve a certain physical fitness and capability that has always eluded me.

A few weeks back, I began a 10 week “Training For Life” program to help push past my personal preconceived physical limitations. I have been making slow but steady progress and can already feel a drastic difference in my energy levels and my growing strength. The area that I haven’t yet noticed a distinct difference in is my size/weight, which normally would have discouraged me, but through subconscious changes in my mindset I am unaffected.

This big change has been how I feel about myself while seeking self-improvement, particularly in regard to my body. In the past, I sought self-improvement from a place of hate. I harbored deep hatred for my body, my skin, even parts of my personality that were misunderstood by others. Even at my most fit, which was little over a year ago, I still held myself to impossible standards of beauty, which left my self-esteem hardly improved in spite of my not being over-weight for the first time since going through puberty. Every small imperfection was placed under a magnifying glass, instantly noticed the moment I caught my reflection.

It is precisely that toxic self-loathing that made any of my progress destined to be temporary. It is near impossible to feel disgust toward your physical body, without that sense of hatred also latching itself onto your entire being. You become a constant cell-mate with your worst bully, who knows every insecurity, every doubt, and can cut you to the quick with nary a word spoken. Living with these feelings and thoughts endlessly circulating through your mind make it impossible to successfully adopt a healthy lifestyle, because, deep down, you believe you are unworthy of such happiness, vitality and contentment. What you initially felt toward your body, which you always felt betrayed you, has now redirected itself to you as a person. “Why are you like this? Why do you look like that? Those other women make it look so easy, you must be weak. You are weak. You are undeserving.”

When I gained all my weight back over the past year, and then some, I was at first frustrated and discouraged, as I felt it was indicative of an endless cycle, in which I would never achieve a sustainable, healthy, happy lifestyle. I recognized the toxic feelings trying to rear their heads again, demanding to be heard, and, for once, I did not frantically try to shed the weight or stifle those feelings with food. Instead, I just existed in that state. I switched back to my larger pant size, kept eating a mostly balanced diet, and got occasional exercise through activities I enjoy, like walking my dog and going on hikes.

I was determined to get to a place in which I felt confident and beautiful in my skin, regardless of my size, because my body very well may fluctuate for the rest of my life, particularly since I am a woman who plans on having children. When the time comes that my body does change for whatever reason, I don’t want my love for myself to change too. Just as I love my family unconditionally, I want to love myself, all of myself, without disclaimers. Instead of feeling as though my self-love is in spite of myself, I wanted it to be BECAUSE of myself. And I truly believe I have achieved that. Although I still struggle with insecurities that stem from life experiences, or, in some cases, lack thereof, I have come to a place in which I don’t feel the need to hide myself under baggy clothes to hide my body “until it looks better”. I have attained something much more vital to thriving than being fit and I just realized it this past weekend.

While on a trip to Vegas with my mom and sister, both of whom are less than 22% body fat and have never been overweight a day in their lives, my mind tried to revert back to its old ways, by comparing myself to them. However, after only a brief moment, I found that I felt sexy, albeit conspicuous, in my slinky dress that I had initially bought while 20 pounds lighter. Instead of trying to blend in, so as to distract from my body, I wore dramatic make-up and stilettos. If I caught someone looking at me, I didn’t assume they were judging my body, instead I held my head up and enjoyed how I felt, curves and all.

I like this place of self-love I have found, for it has enabled me to seek self-improvement not because I find myself lacking, but because I find myself to be deserving. I deserve to live a long, healthy life. I deserve to be able to do all the things I’ve always wanted to do, like swing dancing, and wake-boarding. I deserve my own love, unconditionally, no matter where I am in life.

In the words of Helen Keller: “Be happy with what you have while working for what you want.”
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Until next time,
Candace

My Prickly Security Blanket of Living in Fear

/ Candace Smith / Leave a comment

How can fear be comforting? Succumbing to our fears allows us to remain safely in our comfort zone. You know, that splendidly boring place where you won’t experience rejection, failure or heartbreak? Or much of anything else for that matter.

Shedding my security blanket and no longer allowing my life to be dictated by fear has been my primary struggle since adolescence. When I watch home videos of my early years, I see someone who is almost a stranger to me. I see a young girl who is free of self-awareness and does not hesitate to act on her impulses. Now, some level of self-awareness is necessary as an adult, for I doubt that it would be quite as amusing for a grown woman to lick the lens of someone’s expensive video camera as it was when I did it as an 8-year-old. I am grateful for having a self-awareness that enables me to be in-tuned to how my actions and words affect those around me. This quality has formed me into a highly empathetic person who is frequently relied on as a confidante.

However, when I am faced with a situation I am inexperienced with, my self-awareness morphs into self-consciousness. I become hyper aware of every little thing I say and do, convinced that whoever I am interacting with is just as focused on what I perceive to be flaws. It is a frustrating cycle in which I avoid these situations out of fear, even though I know living through them is what would help cripple my fear and allow me to leave it behind.

From making the first move with a guy whose affection I am unsure of, to boldly pursuing connections in the industry, I have faltered time and time again. I start off with an internal mantra, “What’s the worst that could happen?” But, even though I logically know that it would hardly be the end of the world if any of these situations were to go poorly, my body gets seized by an invisible straight jacket, deceiving me into believing the stakes are much higher. Except, the stakes are high, if I continue to avoid experiences out of fear.

What I’ve come to realize is that the trick isn’t being fearless, but learning to be okay with feeling nervous and uncomfortable. Those feelings are just as much a part of life as any other emotion, and the more often I push through these feelings, the less scary they will be. It may take some trial and error, but I will strive to live courageously and fully.

Until next time,

Candace

Can Sweat, Tears and Pain Pave the Way to Healing and Happiness? My First Time at SoulCycle.

/ Candace Smith / Leave a comment

Some of you may have no idea what SoulCycle is, most likely because it is a fairly new company and currently only resides in affluent communities, justifying its hefty price tag of approx. $30 a class. While that is certainly out of my desired price range for a fitness experience, I was able to justify the purchase when it was specifically for a fundraiser organized by Jacqui Saldana of BabyBoyBakery.com. If you haven’t heard her story, I highly recommend going to her site. She is an amazingly raw, inspirational and openhearted woman who is living through her darkest hours with her husband as they grieve the loss of their 3-year-old son, Ryan Cruz.

As I entered the cheerfully bright lobby of SoulCycle, I immediately noticed the crowd of athletically attired people, each equipped with fitted cycling pants, sweat bands and cycling shoes. I didn’t quite stick out like a sore thumb, as there was a handful of others who were clearly there for the first time, with shared characteristics of yoga pants and loose fitting gym tops. Fortunately, SoulCycle offers shoe rentals and the attendants at the front desk were excited to prepare us for our first ride. To be clear, I have attended numerous spin classes, both in college and at 24 Hour Fitness, but what I was about to experience is in a completely different realm in both intensity and significance.

Once in the cycling room, it’s uniqueness from any other fitness class is instantly apparent. The lights are dimmed, almost completely off, and flickering LED candles are interspersed throughout the compact room filled with dozens of cycles. I was about to embark on 45 minutes that would test my endurance, both physical and mental, and would bring out a part of myself that I am not yet well acquainted with. Led by an energetic and sincere instructor, who demanded of us that we give it our all, the class was asked to support each other, to motivate our cycling neighbors by pushing through and sending them compassion and acceptance. We were asked to acknowledge that each and every person in that room is going through something, whether good or bad, and that for those 45 minutes we would let everything else fall away and be present in that room with those people.

At the peak of our pain, our instructor refused to let up, declaring that this pain is temporary, similar to whatever pain and trials we experience during our lives, it is temporary, so long as we keep moving. Perhaps the most unexpected, was the segment in which we all cycled standing up, with our eyes closed and our heads bowed, reflecting on whatever struggle is at the forefront of our life right now. Those couple of minutes, sweat poring down my face, arms, back and legs, dripping in between my finger-tips, were laden with self-realization.

I was in an environment in which I felt safe to acknowledge my fears that are frequently on my mind: being helpless to protect my loved-ones, letting my dreams and goals slip through my grasp, and a fairly recently acquired fear of losing touch with my essential self, the part of me that has been a constant throughout my life, that has influenced who I am and who I want to be, as well as how I connect with those around me. In those moments I struggled to breathe through the tears choking me, fighting to get out. Tears that were born from pain over the trials of every person in that room but were transformative in their release. Somehow, after such an emotionally and physically exhausting set, I was flooded with an electric energy that shot out from my spirit and stayed with me long after the class was over.

SoulCycle, while financially draining, is without-a-doubt worth it. Even if you only go a couple times a year, when you most need it for a physical and spiritual renewal, you will walk away feeling empowered and centered. This experience has left me feeling ready to take on whatever may be coming my way, with the knowledge that it is okay to have moments of despair. For once we trudge through the doubt, grief, etc., we become that much closer to actualizing our full potential and strength.

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Until next time,

Candace

An open letter to that person who keeps harrassing and shaming me:

/ Candace Smith / Leave a comment

You beat me down, I’m bleeding out

Dreams shatter on the floor

Can’t walk out the door

This shame I feel

Is all too real

 When you batter me

Loathe me

Disarm me

And disrobe me

Standing naked before you

Thinking, once, I adored you

And now, I implore you

Love me again

Be a true friend

See the beauty within

Forgive the sin

Of my lethargy

And decaying dreams

A soul that’s imploding

From all this self-loathing

Stifling trepidation

Highlights every imperfection

Deteriorates my hope, my joy

All things that uplift

Fall into a void

An eternal stalemate

With this viscous ingrate

Clawing

Ripping

Shredding throughout

Fueled by a deep, dark pool

Filled only with doubt

I know this place

I’ve been here before

Sometimes I forget

But I’ll prevail once more

Never giving in; I’m Rising up

I know, I know. I was tricky, making you think this was directed at someone other than myself. But that’s the thing. That part of me, that judges and inflicts so much pain feels as though it is other than myself. I am never that cruel of a person. I am forgiving and compassionate and encouraging. Except, unfortunately, with myself. I would chalk it up to the fact that I am an actor, but this toxic self-judgement is not unique to actors. So many people get caught up in measuring their self-worth with the ideals of others. Whether it be appearance, hobbies, career, parenting style, or even personality, which is essentially who you are, we are constantly finding ourselves to be lacking.

Let’s have a “Mean Girls” Moment. Raise your hand if you’ve thought one of these:

I’m too fat.

I’m too skinny.

I wish I was funny.

I am so stupid.

I am so lame.

I am a loser.

I am a failure.

Why can’t I be more like THEM?

Granted, these are only a handful of criticisms we often have of ourselves, but we seem to hold them in such high regard that we are blinded to the attributes we do have. We do not have to look like that person, act like that person, or live like that person. I am an individual, as are you. Each of us with unique life experiences and insights that influence who we are and what we do. Now, once you remove the useless comparisons, what is left? Your goals and dreams. Who do you want to be? What do you want to accomplish during your time here on Earth?

A few months back, I finally got my second wind after a long bout with crippling insecurities paired with grief. I reacquainted myself with my goals and dreams and started this blog to give myself an outlet as well as a way to hold myself accountable to the pursuit of my dreams. Unfortunately, I faltered and have not written a new post in several weeks. I have had countless ideas for posts and would acknowledge them thinking, “That would be an interesting post.” So why didn’t I ever write them?

That nasty creature, that resides somewhere within me, reared its nasty head again: doubt. I questioned my abilities, talent, and a number of other things and, before I knew it, three months had passed without me posting anything. Even more damaging than the doubt, though, was my inability to forgive myself. After acknowledging that I had faltered, and why, I still did not take up writing again. Because I was so frustrated and angry with myself for faltering in the first place. “Think of where you’d be now, Candace, if you had kept at it!”

It seems that, regardless of what you are internally shaming yourself for, the same viscous circle begins to take form. “So you want to lose weight? Well, why did you eat those Oreos?! You’re such a pig! You are weak! You’re never going to lose weight!” While the supposed “sin” and insults can be substituted, the sentiment cannot. What is most harmful to your success and happiness is not faltering in the first place, but a failure to forgive yourself and move on.

Bouts of insecurities and doubt seem to be a part of growing and evolving. We question ourselves, doubt ourselves, and, hopefully, challenge those doubts. The poem or “open letter” was something I wrote the other day during an hour long drive with my mom. The first three-fourths of the poem are fairly negative and difficult to give life to, but in my heart I knew where the words were leading to, and I didn’t want to give-up until I reached that message of redemption and resilience.

Instead of making a bunch of New Year Resolutions that are supposed to make me more successful and happy, I am going to make an oath to myself.

Candace,

    I vow to be forgiving. To allow you to stumble and fall, without censure.

    I vow to be your biggest cheerleader. Constantly reminding you of what you are capable of achieving.

    And, lastly, I vow to love you. As I love my family and friends. With my whole heart.