Healthy Curves Through Your Slice Of Pie

At a young age I had endometriosis and after Cameron was born I ended up having a total hysterectomy. In high school I was 100 pounds. Through my early twenties I was even less than that. I was so skinny that many began to wonder if I had an eating disorder. I was just naturally very thin. It wasn’t until my mom was diagnosed with cancer that I started going up and down with my weight. At the very beginning I was so tiny, but then the more stress added up as the caregiver, the more I started eating. In particular as I started helping my mom gain back the weight that cancer had taken from her. My mom dropped to 82 pounds. It was seriously like watching the angel of death. She needed to put on the extra 40 pounds immediately.

So here I am today around a buck fifty. I’m not over weight and I don’t even consider myself to be fat. I have always had the “booty” and that is where all of my weight has come from. Booty, hips, breast and now the little extra fluffiness I’m trying to tone up.

I have started walking/running, (more walking than running) because I don’t want to struggle with the way I look anymore. High blood pressure runs in my family and plus, the older I’m getting the harder it will be to loss. I’m not a natural born fitness freak here.

I feel like women who have had hysterectomies will naturally have a harder time to lose the weight in general. We have to intake less food and workout harder. My mother and I always joke that having a hysterectomy is like being a dog that has been fixed. You can always tell if a dog has been fixed just by looking at them. Fat and more spread out. I am that puffy little dog you see. Yep, she been fix.

However, I don’t think that being a curvy woman is a bad thing. I believe a woman’s curves are there to be worshipped. Every woman’s body is amazing, not because it’s perfect but because we are women and being a woman is the hardest thing to accomplish. I use to always feel like I had to have the perfect Barbie shape, making sure my hips and collar bones showed, but now I just want to start caring more about my body. It’s more of a mental shift than anything else. I don’t want to go back to the skinny Kacie that I was in high school but at the same time, I don’t want to wake up one morning and think, Kacie what happen to you. Truth is, I’m waking up every morning and I’m starting to think this. Your body will never go back to exactly what it was before, no matter what someone tells you. It just can’t do that.

Here are seven things I’m learning and doing to help myself out more before the holidays.

1. Walking/Running – in the afternoons I’m walking more and running short distances. Walk, run, walk run. I’m not timing myself. If I feel like walking, I walk. If I feel like running. I run.

2. I’m turning on Pandora and I’m dancing. When I clean my house I’ll crank up the tunes and shake my butt with the broom or when I’m with Cameron I’ll say come on Cameron show me those new moves you got! Teach me that new dance. Or when we are outside I’ll say, Cameron, want to see mom do a kart wheel! Cheesy. Yes! But still moving and having a little fun.

3. The biggest problem I have is right now is an emotional eating cycle. I’m having to reteach myself I’m not that 17 year old softball player, who can lose weight at the drop of the hat. I’m having to watch what I eat. And if I get to close to opening a pack of something, I’ll say remember how you felt after you ate it.

4. Moderation – Sundays are going to start being my cheat days.

5. I’m not going to start a hellacious diet.

6. Know when it’s time to move on from something.

7. Don’t live in the past and don’t keep looking at old pictures of yourself from when you were a kid or in your twenties. This will only depress you. you can’t go back in time.

With all this being said, my mom told me something yesterday afternoon that I can’t stop thinking about. She said, Kacie I have always thought of life like a slice of a pie. You have to deal and accept whenever stage your life is in during those slices.




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