I’ve been a huge fan of Glennon Doyle Melton for a few years now. Her book and blog “Momastery” (pronounced like monastery) is fabulous. She’s a recovering addict and her story is really fascinating.
She recently gave a Tedx Talk titled “Lessons from the Mental Hospital.” It was inspirational, funny, and real. What I loved most about it was her super accurate description of how we all answer the question – “How are you?”
Without fail – we all say (and have been taught to say since the beginning of our days) “Fine! How are you?”
Even if we’re not fine, we say it anyway. Why is that?? Isn’t that ridiculous?
She says it’s because we’re all afraid of telling the truth about how we are, what we’re feeling and admitting that maybe we’re not really 100% OK. I would add that our culture – particularly the environment that I grew up in – admonishes any inclination toward truth-telling when it comes to feelings and emotions. I remember being taught from a very early age that “it’s nobody’s business” and to “put on a show” and the most repulsive and humiliating of all “no one needs to see our dirty laundry.”
Talk about shaming.
OK, that said, I’m all for truth-telling, but I’m not for pity parties and people dishing about every last problem and bit of minutiae they’re dealing with. However, when we put on the super-hero cape (her analogy) to protect ourselves from judgment, guilt, shame, etc., we lose a bit of ourselves. We kid ourselves. And we sink deeper into the illusion that we’re OK, when really? We’re not.
Her bottom line is that it’s braver to be Clark Kent than Superman. It’s braver to be real and authentic and a truth-teller, than someone who has to mask true feelings.
I love her message. Part of me is sad that it’s taken me so many years to be OK with this, but it makes me feel good to know that I no longer worry what other people think of me and my story.
My arms are flabby.
There, I’ve said it. Overall I’m pretty happy with myself and the way look at age 42. But my arms? Yeah, they suck.
So I recruited the one person I knew who could help me train and get these guns into fighting mode: my husband. The man has the sexiest arms that you ever laid eyes on.
Second only to my husband is hunky guitarist/singer Keith Urban…
Look at that muscle tone. The tattoo on the inner left forearm. The way he handles the guitar…
*sipping some water and calming down*
OK I’m back.
So yes. My arms.
My husband started me on this training circuit at our local Y about a month ago. My goal is to go sleeveless in July. I realize I can go sleeveless anytime I choose…so I suppose the more refined goal is to go sleeveless with confidence in July.
Among the 20 or so strength training moves, I’m doing lat pull downs, bench presses (at an angle and flat) and doing tricep dips. Oh Lord, the tricep dips.
But it’s starting to work! I can’t yet see a difference, but man do I feel a difference. My husband says he can see better definition.
I guess I am a little less squishy.
Which is also a decent goal to strive toward.
BE LESS SQUISHY.
Bottom line? I’m feeling good about my training thus far. And I’ll post some pictures (maybe) of my results.
A couple of years ago, I came across a fabulous blog post titled, “50 Rules for Dads With Daughters.”
Of course, I’m not a father, but I have one. And, I’m married to one. As I read through the 50 Rules, some of them reminded me of my dad and others reminded me of my husband. I wrote the post as my daughter was beginning first grade – but I thought of it again this year and thought I’d re-post it for Father’s Day.
Here’s my post from 9/6/11: “THE CATERPILLAR YEARS”
Happy Father’s Day to my dad and Happy Father’s Day to my husband!
My husband and our girls