Words

Well then. When I decided one day that I was done, that I was no longer excited to bake for TWD, no longer excited to take pictures, no longer excited to blog, I didn't think it would just end. Kaput, one day full throttle, the next - nothing. That result shouldn't have surprised me. So much has happened in the last year and a half that keeping with this hobby was more than a little unrealistic.

You see, it's not just the things I wrote about - starting graduate school, moving halfway across the country, getting married. Every person is constantly evolving, and my evolution lately has just been a bit more... abrupt than I was expecting. And some of it dealt intimately with blogging, baking, the whole shebang.

For the three years previous to April 2010, I was in a nice little bubble. My life was regimented, and it made certain lifestyle choices easier. For instance, I put in more hours at work than many in my position, because I felt it would help with career advancement. (Obviously, I didn't stay long enough to find out if that was the case.) My free time was spent almost exclusively at the gym. The YMCA that I belonged to was stellar given that it was in a podunk town in the middle of Wisconsin. There were pools always open for lap swimming, treadmills, ellipticals, and fitness classes galore. And unlike the powder puff fitness classes here at UNC, these made you work. Your legs would tremble as you left a 60 minute class. I loved it. I was spending 1-2 hours each day doing intensive cardio, probably another hour of lifting each week, and I barely would take two days off each week. Beyond that, I had a ridiculously regimented eating schedule - measuring out my cereal each morning (1 1/2 cups of Kashi H2H), eating carrots (10, I counted every day), apples, and maybe a granola bar (Clif Kids, because they were only 110 calories) at lunch, and then having a bowl of grain + veg + egg or cheese for dinner every night. It never failed.

Can you imagine then that my body image was more than a little screwed up? I worried constantly about how flat my stomach was, whether my collarbones showed enough, if my inner thighs were getting flabby. It was, in a word, neurotic. I can't count the number of times on any given day that I would pinch my thighs or that I would run my hand over my stomach. If I didn't like what I felt, that just added some mileage onto that week.

You know what that regimented lifestyle can't handle though? The complete freedom that comes with graduate school. The time that needs to be scheduled by me, that isn't eaten up by the standard 8-5 job. And with that came problems. It turns out that by stocking the kitchen with enough for two people, I also had stocked it with binge materials. After three years of not giving myself a choice, the abundance made me go more than a little haywire. That actually took time, but in the year since, a lot has changed. I've stopped beating myself up over the occasional emotional / angry / boredom-induced eating that happens. Well, not stopped exactly, but it doesn't give me the feeling that I should figure out how people with bulimia teach themselves how to purge. I made it through a short bout of minor depression. My diet is more varied. And I've grown out of much of the clothing I had worn before. Having to purchase a new pair of jeans last April was hard. Harder than I ever thought. I was always proud of fitting into the jeans I had worn in high school - being the same size for 8 years is pretty impressive. But they didn't fit. And every time I would wash them and have to wiggle back into them, it became harder to justify.

Who would have thought that purchasing new clothes would be liberating? No longer was putting my jeans on a test of my willpower. It was just, well, putting my jeans on. No big deal. And shirts? Well, I didn't like things touching my stomach (unless it was concave / was a sixpack - yes, that was the case most of the time growing up). (And no, even J can't touch my stomach. I don't let him.) So I stopped buying close-fitting shirts and started wearing ones that were more comfortable, both for my body and my mind. And my weight? Well, it turns out that my body was just reallocating mass. I've gained maybe 3-4 lbs, and haven't budged on the scale in a year. But I'm not going to weigh myself regularly like I used to. Even though I know part of it is conversion of muscle to fat, it's much-needed fat. God, that's a hard thing to say.

I still have my weird quirks. I still feel my collarbone, I look for a hollow on my hands, I pinch my waist, I measure my wrists with my hands. But for the most part, I've become more at peace with how I look.

What's crazy is how this has spilled over into other parts of my life. I feel more attractive on a daily basis. I have more fun when eating out with friends. I don't worry about that second (or third) glass of wine. Actually, before this I probably wouldn't have even had one glass of wine. And it's removing one of my greatest fears about having children. Other than that whole "something that big is coming out of what? Um, NO." I never wanted to subject myself to something that would so completely mess up my body. Scars, stretch marks, and never-going-to-be-tight-again stomachs. Widened hips. Sagging boobs and butt. But now? Well, big deal. If we want children, those side effects will be nothing compared to the end result. And those side effects should never be the deciding factor when considering having kids.

What does this have to do with this blog, other than giving a reason for some of my neglect? Well, I still obsess too much over food. Despite knowing that I could always have that second cookie tomorrow, I must eat it today. You know, in case it wasn't there tomorrow. My brain still needs to rewire itself, become less driven by these sorts of things. So a few months ago, I purged my Google Reader of most of the food blogs I read. Now it's primarily design / wedding / lifestyle material, although I have a handful of food blogs I read for dinner inspiration. Soon after the RSS purge, I decided that I wouldn't bake things I didn't actually want to eat. TWD has been great, but I've made recipes that I know I won't like. No matter what, I will never like flan. Or creme brulee, most ice creams, anything with figs, and most of the intensely sugary recipes in the book. And yes, it breaks my heart that I was so close. After 3.5 years, I had four months left. I would be one of the few who had been there nearly from the start, faithfully baking and making each week's recipe. While that was one reason to stay with the group, it wasn't enough.

So I might blog again. Will it be here? I don't know. It might be baking, or more savory. It might not even be food related. I can't predict what will happen, especially since I've begun writing my master's thesis. I will finish at UNC after next semester, with our plan of going back to Wisconsin once it's all done. Beyond that, my life is pretty loose. I need to be more okay with that, because I truly feel that it will make me a better, more well adjusted person in the end.

I am keeping my Twitter active, and have been, so here it is for those who are interested: TWITTER