Mean Voice Go Away Come Again Another Day

Before I begin the act of telling you how I managed to overcome the mean voice inside my head, I want to share with you something I wrote about five years ago. It's my hope by sharing the story, you might see yourself. If you see yourself, then it is also my hope that you believe the mean voice can be tamed. As I blog on this topic, I'll be talking about how to rid yourself of the meanest person you know — your own Mean Voice.

Okay, so I'm not ready to give you the keys to my journal (oh dear way too private), but I can at least give you a snapshot of how tortured I was by the mean voice.

Here's a short essay I wrote after Christmas one year.

Family photo from 1968...

I love visiting my family. I really do. And the older I am the better it gets. Still plagued by the “mean” voice, though, I’m not completely comfortable once there. My mean voice says things like, “Yep, I knew it. My sister looks better than me. Thin. Able to wear tight jeans.”

Thank goodness with each passing year the mean voice gets less and less attention. And it just so happens that I don't care as much about my physical appearance anymore. Oh this doesn’t mean I’m ready to throw in the towel—no, I still regularly play tennis and walk or jog five times a week.

I’m simply finding contentment. But I say that, and yet I’m still tortured. As I roll out of bed and glance at my hands I say, “Yep, just as I thought…swollen.” I chide myself for failing to remain on the low-carb fare in preparation for the visit. Looking in the mirror, I fuss at my face. “Fat. Yuck. Control yourself. What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you be more like your sister?”

Then, I start with the promises. “Next time. Next time.” And finally I realize how hopeless my optimism is. Suddenly I’m tired and angry. Feeling fat makes me snap—makes me grouchy. But despite the unwelcomed arrival of the mean voice, I still laughed. I still smiled. Better yet, I left feeling more loved than not.

Even with my tortured experience others told me I looked radiant and beautiful. Graciously I accepted, but deep down didn’t believe them. Regardless love and laughter flowed to and from me and all the while I felt a profound connection to many people, some related some not. This week I loved them all and this week I felt they all loved me back—faults, mean voice and all.

Stay tuned. We'll continue on this thread for a little longer.

Nothing Outside My Self Controls Me

So what have I been doing this summer? Mostly I took time off. That’s what I try to do when my daughter is out of school. I did work on finishing the next book in my spare time.
Although what appeared on the surface to be a most unproductive summer I got through the first draft of my manuscript and now am in the middle of rewrites with my editor.

Yes, I did stop and celebrate.

But something even better happened. Do you remember my affirmation about not allowing things outside of my self to control me? If I’d give you the keys to my journal, you’d see that I struggled all summer long with all those things outside of me. I wouldn’t drink Diet Coke, then I would. I wouldn’t drink alcohol, then I would. I wouldn’t eat chips (or all those wonderful tasty “bad-for-you” foods) and then I would.

And if you were holding all my journals, you’d discover I’d been writing about “those things” controlling me for thirty something years. You read right. Thirty something years.

Finally I can say and mean it: “Nothing outside myself controls me,” which has led to an even greater feat—no more self bashing. Again you read right. And a new place of being for me. Ahhh. It feels good. So good.

On the magic day ...What magic day? ... There was no magic day….

It simply happened. Nope. No anniversary date. I can’t tell you at what exact moment “it” happened. And although it might reek of something “happening overnight,” please recall the reference to my journals. NOT.

This releasing has taken many prayers, books, conversations, essays and more prayers. But more than that this releasing took years—many, many years.

In the next few posts, I’ll share what I did including books that have helped me find my way.

But for now, all I want to do is enjoy the remaining days of my summer. Yes, I think I'll take a swim! Happy diving.

Keeping Blankety Blank Promises to My Self

I know. I know. I promised to talk about humiliation this time.

But keeping promises to myself got in the way again. You'll recall, a few posts ago, I talked about this promise-keeping business. I made a vow. And let me tell you, I take vows seriously. While hanging around in an airport, not by choice mind you, I discovered what I thought was a key piece to ending self-bashing once and for all. (To read that post first, click here.)

After that epiphany I made a pledge. Drum roll, please.

I pledged to stay on a health program for thirty days. What I didn't say before is that I also pledged to give up things I love, including Diet Coke. My new mantra explains my desire: "Nothing outside of myself controls me." I didn't want to need caffeine. I didn't want to have to have a Diet Coke for things to be okay (first thing in the morning, at break, at lunch, at...well, you get the picture).

Last weekend, I made a pre-meditated decision to break my promise to myself. I tossed all the rules out the window and purchased the BIG BAD THREE—Diet Coke, alcohol and chips. And my splurge was Fabulous! My Saboteur stepped in and sealed the deal. I had a Diet Coke with my pre-dinner snack of chips. And drank wine with supper. Some of you are thinking so what? The what is I made a promise to not buy or consume the BIG BAD THREE for thirty days. I was working on day number 18. I will not tell you about the following Monday. Let's just say...tennis ladies event, we weren't on the courts and it involved a restaurant.

Before I continue on...I also want you to understand that I believe in moderation and not the complete banning of everything I enjoy FOREVER. It's just that I made this promise. A stupid promise. A promise I now know I couldn't keep.

Okay so here's how the old routine would go after falling off the proverbial wagon, "You suck. You're terrible. You're twisted. What's your freakin' problem?" I'd also throw in a few slams about how I looked too.

I waited. And waited. But the self-bashing never came. Hmmm. I thought this self-loathing business was because I couldn't keep promises to myself. Yep, I definitely broke a promise. Hmmm. Maybe it's not that simple.

This time after walking backwards, I responded differently. My response contains the answer. Instead of calling myself names, I asked questions. "Wonder why I did that? Wonder why I took two steps forward and one step back? What is the trigger? And how do I make it stop? How do I truly step into the idea that nothing outside of myself controls me?"

So what changed?

Then it hit me. I realized, wow, I am still making progress and I am still moving forward in the direction of health. If I looked back to 18 days previously, I was a person who allowed things outside of herself to control her. Fast forward to my new reality. Wow. I don't have to drink Diet Coke all day anymore. My home-made lemonade concoction and plain old fashioned water suit me fine.

I skipped self-bashing, self-loathing and immediately jumped to, "but look...I didn't drink Diet Coke for 18 days. I feel better because I haven't had any alcohol for that long." (Well, it was 18 days without, if you forget the glass of wine I had while in the hot tub.) I even caught myself repeating Scarlett O'Hara. "After all, tomorrow is another day!"

And then came yet another "aha" moment. It was a key piece that I didn't find on my way to Chicago. The key is not to swear away every detail. Don't make proclamations like, "I will NOT do this for this many days." All you are doing is setting yourself up for failure. Instead make sweeping, global, grand promises. Like, "I will make healthier choices." So the vow becomes a general statement..."I will make healthier choices. I will be more loving. I will be more forgiving. I will take action."

The key is the "big picture" statement. Forget perfection. It's the continued practice that moves us in the right direction. Also important are how you classify the "how-to's" like no diet coke, less wine, no chips. The how-to's are the guidelines—not the vow.

That's why I didn't turn to self-bashing this time. I'm still on course to being healthier. For the most part, I am making healthier choices. And now I can say, "Nothing outside myself controls me," and mean it. Yes, I still might want the things I have deemed not healthy, and I will have them occasionally. But I don't have to have them to function. I no longer waste energy thinking about how to get them anymore...when I don't have them.

What's the next step. We keep our promises to ourselves by staying true to the overall objective and by not getting bogged down in the rules (guidelines). And when we take a few missteps (meaning we break a guideline), we stand up dust ourselves off and we continue to keep plugging away by jumping back in the wagon and continuing what we've started.

Next time...we'll tackle humiliation. Now that's a fun one.

Allyn Evans
http://www.allynevans.com/

http://www.queenpower.com/

P.S. We're launching a brand new on-line community for moms and girls this spring. I'll be giving you details soon. It will be much more interactive than QueenPower.com. You'll be able to blog, comment and chitchat on our forums. You'll be able to add photos and video to your personal pages. There will also be the opportunity to organize your own groups within our community. For example, we're looking for someone to run our book club group for moms and daughters. Oh and incase you don't think your computer skills are up for it...you'll be pleasantly surprised. It's very easy to join and use!

For any writers who subscribe to QueenPower.com, we are looking for bloggers on subjects relevant for moms and girls. If you an interest, please email me.

Buttered Popcorn, Buttered Sin. Fun or Fattening?

Today's blog is something I wrote last year. But it goes along with the last post. Because although I am in a better place, making better choices about food and nutrition, I still love movie popcorn! If I go to the movies, I can't resist. And let's face it. Movie popcorn isn't my only challenge.

Update: Okay, I'm still a work in progress, but I am maintaining the new weight and keeping up the exercise regime. The most difficult challenge comes at night. But I am working on creating new patterns of behavior to help me avoid those times when I simply want to snack on something crunchy, like...ahem...popcorn, or drink those empty calories. Aaaggghhhh.

On that note read about a movie going experience and an epiphany I had last year.

Buttered Popcorn, Buttered Sin

My cousin and I get a chance to go to a grown-up’s movie, a rare treat for moms. No Cars. No Ice Age 2. No Over the Hedge. We can pick a REAL movie. A movie just for us. We pick "The Devil Wears Prada."

“We’ve got to have popcorn.” Sheryll says. “It’s part of the experience.”

I agree. Popcorn, even at top dollar, is a theater MUST. At the popcorn-ordering counter we debate. Small? Medium? Large? I step up to the plate. “We’ll share a medium-sized popcorn.”

“Butter?” the popcorn guy asks.

Butter? My daughter Addy adds butter. I don’t add butter. Butter is full of bad things. Butter kills. I never eat popcorn with butter. NEVER. Dripping, hot, creamy butter? No. No can do. Don’t do butter. Can’t do butter. Okay, I will not lie. I’ve tasted it. When Addy orders butter, I eat half. Oh, butter. But adult women don’t eat butter. Sheryll wouldn’t want butter. Sheryll wouldn’t even like butter. I am confident. Adult women don’t eat butter.

“No butter,” I say.

“What?” Sheryll sounds horrified.
I think she is appalled at the thought of adding butter. I promise I don’t want butter. No butter. “No butter. No butter.”

We have to do this right,” Sheryll says. “We HAVE to have butter.”

I grin.

“Do you want it layered?” Popcorn Guy says. “You know, popcorn, butter, popcorn, butter, popcorn, butter?”

Sheryll and I smile. Popcorn Guy gets it. He totally gets it. Popcorn. Butter. Popcorn. Butter. Popcorn. Butter. Good. Um. Good. Um. Good.

We watch the movie. We laugh. We eat. We lick our fingers. About halfway through the movie, fashion editor Nigel is disgusted by the excess weight of young, naïve Andy. “You are a size 6. That’s the new 14,” Nigel says. I laugh. I eat more butter. I lick my fingers. I don’t want to think about what size my butter-eating-popcorn-self is.

Later in the movie a character called Emily talks about how she lost weight. “I don’t eat,” she says. “When I feel faint I have a cube of cheese. Works like a charm.” Licking my fingers, I laugh. But deep down inside I don’t laugh.

Emily starves herself. Denies herself. Her level of denial cuts much deeper than anything I could ever muster. She looks good. We would all like to look so good. I bet she wears a size 2. Does that translate into the new size 10? She starves herself because she wants to look great in Paris.

Ah, Paris. The place she yearns to go. Paris of the future. Unreachable Paris. But darn it, despite the self denial, she never makes it to Paris. She sacrifices. She suffers. She gets sidetracked by a head-on car collision. I get it. I finally get it.

All my life I’ve denied myself the butter. The real butter. Why? My trip to Paris comes in other forms. I want to look good. I want others to think I’m in control. I want others to think I have my act together. But for so long I have believed I can only have the happy-ever-after if I’m the right size. So far my Paris hasn’t come. But at the Malco Grandview in Madison, MS, I reach a decision. I don’t need a car crash to totally get it. Whether my over size 6 translates into over the new 14—at this point I don’t really care—my butterless popcorn days are over.

And from now on, it’s not going to be just popcorn with butter. It’s going to be layered.

*****

Do I still eat buttered popcorn? Yep, sometimes I do and sometimes I don't. What saves me is that I rarely go to the movies! :) But that's not the point. This weighing, healthy living thing is not about denial. It's about making good choices 80 percent of time.

Enjoy your holidays. Don't overstress about weight, eating or merriment. Enjoy and do the best you can at the moment you are faced with choice. If you do make what you consider a bad choice, don't beat yourself up. And don't make promises you can't keep. Simply live and enjoy being with those you love.

http://www.allynevans.com/
http://www.queenpower.com/

P.S. The other day the president of a company who sells Stevia sent me a sample of their products to try in my lemonade. I will be testing soon and after Christmas will let you know how it all turned out. I'll give you all the details just in time for all those New Year resolutions we'll be making!

Don't Step on It...It Makes You Cry

Do you remember the time I asked you to chunk your scales?

Remember?

If you want to read exactly what I said before continuing, click here:

http://allynevans.blogspot.com/search?updated-min=2006-01-01T00%3A00%3A00-06%3A00&updated-max=2007-01-01T00%3A00%3A00-06%3A00&max-results=2

Here's what I said:

I told you to throw them away. The title was clever: “Scales Belong on Fish”. And oh, I was so clever for thinking up this brand new plan. At the time, I saw it as a way to stop torturing myself.

Now, no moaning please, I have a completely different opinion.

Throwing out my scale was the same as throwing up my hands and symbolic for: “I give.”

You know who won that battle. Nope, not me.

This year when it was time for the annual checkup, two years had lapsed since I had been to the doctor or stepped foot on a scale. I wasn't ready to go there. I had no idea what the outcome would be because I had avoided all scales. And, more importantly, I didn't want to know. I prepared myself for battle.

After my name was called, I followed the nurse to the scale. I looked at her and gave her the “No way Jose” expression.

She arched her eyebrow.

I said, “I will NOT step on the scale.”

“Sorry, Ms Evans, but you must.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.”

Of course you know who won this argument. I slipped off my shoes and took off the jacket that I only removed when undressing or at home, you know the “cover-your-flaws” jacket, and stepped on the scale.

The nurse started at a reasonable place. “Well, at least I looked like I weigh less.” Right. Whatever.

I held my breath and looked down. "Yikes! This is bad.” Really bad. Terrible. A disaster.

If you aren't monitoring your weight, it can get away from you and quickly. The same thing goes with finances. Don’t pay attention. Don’t know. Then wham. Not good.

My off-base suggestion in the before mentioned article recommended using your clothes as a guide. After following my own advice for two years, I can tell you using the “how-your-clothes-fit” method to monitor weight does not work. One can wear the same size clothes while going up and down a ten to fifteen pound point spread. Take my word for it. I know.

We can use all kind of inner dialogue to explain away our tight jeans or tight jackets. “Hey, my jeans shrunk in the dryer! Yeah, that’s what happen. Look they still fit! I still wear the same size.”

At the doctor’s office I had a reality check. Things weren't going my way. And the direction I was heading meant I’d be changing pant sizes really soon. If I continued on my path of denial, the size would be bigger. Who was I kidding anyway? If you are using the “stick-your-head-in-the-sand” approach to anything in your life, stop right now! Take stock. Look at it. Size it up.

Face the facts.

When you do this, you can create a plan that will allow you to make change. You can make small changes to help you correct the scale, the budget or reduce debt. Self-correcting doesn't have to be difficult or hard. This is the "magic key" I recently discovered about weight. Making small changes that you will be able to do over the long haul will give you the best results. A quick fix is not best and creating a program you can't stay with isn't either.

When playing tennis today, I listened to some “just-the-right-size” ladies on my court. “I never eat after 8:00 p.m.,” the size eight said.

“Me neither,” the size four replied.

What an interesting concept. Add scales, make a few rules and without much effort new habits and patterns are formed. I decided at that very moment I would adopt the rule too.

The previous night, I had cut off all food and drink at 7:00 p.m. The medic hired by my life insurance company called me and told me to fast for 12 hours. She was scheduled to do my blood work the next morning. Because of my fasting experience, I had already thought about this rule. “What if I didn't allow myself to eat or drink after 7:00 p.m.? It would probably help me lose weight.” Hearing those ladies talk about it confirmed that maybe I was on to something. I liked their cut off time better and changed my 7:00 to 8:00 p.m.

Some good news…

Since weighing at the doctors a month and a half ago, I’ve lost eleven pounds. How do I know? Medic Lady weighed me today. My actual weight surprised me. This time, it made me happy. I had no idea I had lost that much weight. My “clothes” method hadn't told me this at all. Sure, I knew my clothes fit better, but not eleven pounds better!

I have more pounds to go. With new rules in place, like don’t eat after 8:00 p.m., don’t eat when full, make healthy choices, and walk five days a week, I am ready to keep going. Now I see a scale for what it is—an instrument of measure. It’s neither good nor bad. It’s simply a tool to help me know when I need to be more attentive to what I eat or how much I exercise. The mystery has finally been solved for me.

Want to know what is working for me after thirty something years of self - bashing and struggling with my willpower?

1. Don’t eat past fullness. If you use this method, you don’t have to continually deny yourself.

2. Use the 80/20 percent rule. I make an effort to make healthy choices at least 80 percent of the time. This frees me up to indulge occasionally without playing the guilt game.

3. Exercise regularly. Right now my exercise of choice is walking. While in the weight loss phase, I’m going a little overboard on this…meaning, I walk more than I plan to do for maintenance purposes. For the short - term, it will not be problem. I read, rehearse presentations or watch TV while I walk on my treadmill. Walking outside, of course, is always an option. I also play tennis for fun two days weekly. Find exercises you can enjoy so you will continue for the long - term.

4. Include some type of resistance training. My latest discovery is the band. I love it! Prevention magazine did a study and found women who used the band were most successful in losing weight and inches. They compared the band users to groups who repeatedly did yoga, pilates, dumbbell training or floor exercises.

5. Reduce the number of diet cokes (or soft drinks you are drinking). If you are drinking fully loaded versions, you know the ones with sugar, you’ll notice an immediate difference! For so many years, I couldn't break myself of the diet coke habit, but now I limit my consumption to three or less 12 oz servings a day. In its place, I drink homemade lemonade. I sweeten the lemonade with Stevia. Stevai is a low-carbohydrate, low-sugar supplement that has a negligible effect on your blood glucose levels. You can buy Stevia on line or at your local health food store. It’s listed as a supplement. The lemons and Stevia aren't cheap, but they are not any more expensive than diet cokes. The lemonade tastes so good that it’s easy for me choose to drink it over diet coke.

If you have a tip you want to share, leave a comment. We love to talk in cyberspace. And anything to help each other feel our best is always welcomed!

http://www.allynevans.com/
http://www.queenpower.com/

If you are a writer and interested in learning more Amazon.com and all the things you can do with your Amazon.com account, check out http://www.talkingallthingswrite.blogspot.com/.

It includes information I shared with Red Dirt Book Festival participants last week!

Scales Belong on Fish

Not too long ago I found a 2006 Good Housekeeping magazine featuring an interview with Wynonna Judd. This interested me because I had seen Wynonna on Oprah last year. She had shared her agony, shame and frustration over her inability to lose weight. And then (sorry Oprah), I missed the follow-up show. I wanted to know what happened. Did she lose the weight? What?

Turns out the magazine had all the answers. Yes, she lost some weight. She claimed about 20 pounds. Reportedly, her game plan was to focus on being a healthy person--not on how much she weighed.

Good for Wynonna!

Now what about me? Wah! When did I start sliding down the slippery slope? It all started about ten years ago. Yep, I got pregnant. Pre-pregnancy, I worked out regularly. I liked how my clothes looked on me.

Now I don't. Yuck! It all started because I found this book titled: Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy. Darn it! I believed the author when she said, "Girlfriend. Stop exercising! Don't worry about it. Hey, I'm your girlfriend and I've had babies. I know what I'm talking about. As soon as you get that little baby out of you, you can return to exercise. Really, I mean it."

That day I stopped. And I never returned to "it" like my girlfriend promised. Sorry, girlfriend, but buying your book destroyed my life. Okay, I'm exaggerating a little.

After dropping my fifteen-year-old habit, I couldn't find my way back to it. Not too long ago I picked up tennis again. Playing helped a little. But playing tennis two or three times a week (or less) will not do anything for weight loss or maintenance efforts. I know. I tried it for five years!

Did I tell you I threw out my scales last year? I decided NO MORE. Actually my dearly departed scales stopped working. Don't laugh. I never owned the digital kind. When they started to fail me, I could adjust the setting. "See, I still weigh what I did in high school. See?"

One day while stepping on my old scales I had an epiphany. Girlfriend here's what You should have been telling me ten years ago, "Why weigh? Who cares what you weigh?"

Weighing makes NO sense. None.

When you try on your clothes in the morning, aren't you more concerned with how they fit? Weight is such an arbitrary thing. Line up three women weighing 165 pounds and you'll have a range of sizes (height, width, muscle mass). It makes much more sense to focus on the size you are comfortable wearing. Doesn't it?

On throw-out-my-scale day, I asked myself when did I most enjoy wearing clothes? My answer...when I was two sizes smaller. My scale had no way of telling me what size I felt comfortable wearing. So, I chunked it and swore NOT to replace it. I haven't. It's been a year!

Just so you know, this tale does have a happy ending. At least I'm heading towards one. I still wear a size I don't like. Torture me NOW. But I am doing something about it. Besides continuing to play tennis two times weekly, I've added jogging to my routine. Why didn't I think of this sooner? It's easy to do. Cheap. And on the days I don't feel like running, I walk. I can't tell you why I suddenly decided to do more, but I did. I'm ready to take charge and make changes. Those changes involve regular exercise and attention to what I'm eating. Dieting doesn't work for me. It makes me mad and frustrated. I feel deprived. What possessed me to diet on and off again for ten years, if it made me feel so bad? I'll save that for another post.

Instead I'm focusing on making healthier choices--like Wynonna. There is nothing off limits--just a time, a place and a portion.

I have no idea if I'll ever return to my previous size. This time I'm not making myself empty promises. What I am promising myself is that I'll be in better shape and health. That's a promise I can keep.

While reading the Good Housekeeping article about Wynonna, I had to laugh. Turns out Wynonna chunked her scale too. She wants to start a scale-chunking movement. I like this woman. Mine is already gone. What about yours? Join me! We are not fish. Come on. Throw it out!

http://www.allynevans.com/