tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64315485419365172332024-03-20T11:06:56.035-04:00Simply RyleeRylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.comBlogger295125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-72558461745889446452020-01-25T19:30:00.025-05:002020-12-10T14:02:49.247-05:00Hawaii, Again<p>It is actually a miracle that we ended up in Hawaii again as a family. </p><p><br /></p><p>We went in 2016, just a few months before I was crowned Miss Vermont. And truly we loved every moment of it. But even that was a fluke (we were set to go to Puerto Rico that year, but then, Zika.) </p><p><br /></p><p>But it was far and away one of our all-time favorite vacations. Somehow, this year we decided we could go again. It was, in large part, a Christmas present (to and for each other.) And no doubt about it, it is a privilege and a luxury. </p><p><br /></p><p>I <i>highly</i> recommend Honolulu to anyone that's looking to go to Hawaii. And if you want restaurant ideas, hotel recommendations, or even an amazing local tattoo artist, I got 'em! </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GnLyuWCRorA/X9Jr7t5AiPI/AAAAAAAADcY/UxD4BXdfz24rcWVu2CPclfS7s8treg1dgCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/9D6730C2-EECF-4F7F-B9E6-72D3C38118FD.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GnLyuWCRorA/X9Jr7t5AiPI/AAAAAAAADcY/UxD4BXdfz24rcWVu2CPclfS7s8treg1dgCNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/9D6730C2-EECF-4F7F-B9E6-72D3C38118FD.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ygkj90sWRR0/X9Jr8eCtyYI/AAAAAAAADcc/V43qe8yL3_k8xu-BkB4iQYlFTOxlmC9iQCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/9DB17E5E-D259-444B-8ADD-557EEA645E6F%2B2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ygkj90sWRR0/X9Jr8eCtyYI/AAAAAAAADcc/V43qe8yL3_k8xu-BkB4iQYlFTOxlmC9iQCNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/9DB17E5E-D259-444B-8ADD-557EEA645E6F%2B2.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9eUr3glHKQA/X9JsdiUCGvI/AAAAAAAADcw/TTpLapylcK0KVmc_VnXT3T120zHi1K3xACNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/9EBD39AB-A194-4956-B748-F58CE923B4FA.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9eUr3glHKQA/X9JsdiUCGvI/AAAAAAAADcw/TTpLapylcK0KVmc_VnXT3T120zHi1K3xACNcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/9EBD39AB-A194-4956-B748-F58CE923B4FA.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pmh53FuNgeQ/X9JscWL05lI/AAAAAAAADcs/nORklq0AfbA5ee8oURNUTq8xa94w-qrewCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/99C418A6-15D7-4926-A557-24EE9B961453.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pmh53FuNgeQ/X9JscWL05lI/AAAAAAAADcs/nORklq0AfbA5ee8oURNUTq8xa94w-qrewCNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/99C418A6-15D7-4926-A557-24EE9B961453.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dp4wwY1i4GQ/X9Jsb4v5w_I/AAAAAAAADco/qC23JQv2QDEe3edfeKdpN8_BoAd9IqIdQCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/2020-01-15%2B22%253A11%253A15.323.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dp4wwY1i4GQ/X9Jsb4v5w_I/AAAAAAAADco/qC23JQv2QDEe3edfeKdpN8_BoAd9IqIdQCNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/2020-01-15%2B22%253A11%253A15.323.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gZP-B5lqQKE/X9Jsds55ZtI/AAAAAAAADc0/qpE6f3TvGmgBERvGNR5nqZ5PWOauHRxIQCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/A9DEA093-BC8C-41ED-829F-D6BB8FF6C481.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1539" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gZP-B5lqQKE/X9Jsds55ZtI/AAAAAAAADc0/qpE6f3TvGmgBERvGNR5nqZ5PWOauHRxIQCNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/A9DEA093-BC8C-41ED-829F-D6BB8FF6C481.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gTFZ5_Re-d8/X9JsftfkdEI/AAAAAAAADc8/qFgLHq9HV2wMPKzDqA_nhkE8iZidtjBgACNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/BB240927-5CCA-4960-840E-B768DAFBC31E%2B2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gTFZ5_Re-d8/X9JsftfkdEI/AAAAAAAADc8/qFgLHq9HV2wMPKzDqA_nhkE8iZidtjBgACNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/BB240927-5CCA-4960-840E-B768DAFBC31E%2B2.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-coOTrSRcPVA/X9JsfvKoBSI/AAAAAAAADc4/02IZSAo9DpQdTZU1qlCTqYyOlzuABP0twCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/BC286878-3E73-40CD-8C35-C9901D4559F7%2B2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-coOTrSRcPVA/X9JsfvKoBSI/AAAAAAAADc4/02IZSAo9DpQdTZU1qlCTqYyOlzuABP0twCNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/BC286878-3E73-40CD-8C35-C9901D4559F7%2B2.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J04mUhiIXeg/X9JsiY8GM9I/AAAAAAAADdA/ICrp5BZwg8MoAHuS27wbJFk0dVaavdrswCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_1502.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J04mUhiIXeg/X9JsiY8GM9I/AAAAAAAADdA/ICrp5BZwg8MoAHuS27wbJFk0dVaavdrswCNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/IMG_1502.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0Lx918KDJ7Q/X9JskmUZPTI/AAAAAAAADdE/2xO6lXw-TXwr--tR4sXEgNhn5gNzyPIzwCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_1517.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0Lx918KDJ7Q/X9JskmUZPTI/AAAAAAAADdE/2xO6lXw-TXwr--tR4sXEgNhn5gNzyPIzwCNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/IMG_1517.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4qc_kukKQB8/X9JsmBSSL0I/AAAAAAAADdI/DKTirGf5Kk4HC0NqirPwlMupdgp_nFzqQCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_1805.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4qc_kukKQB8/X9JsmBSSL0I/AAAAAAAADdI/DKTirGf5Kk4HC0NqirPwlMupdgp_nFzqQCNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/IMG_1805.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iFBV4cJclKQ/X9Jsm9xnqxI/AAAAAAAADdM/0m9gi1QVxVkBJGuc3p1Y0IHBOVA4t1xiACNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_4025.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iFBV4cJclKQ/X9Jsm9xnqxI/AAAAAAAADdM/0m9gi1QVxVkBJGuc3p1Y0IHBOVA4t1xiACNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/IMG_4025.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-66463641084221958882019-12-30T13:27:00.038-05:002020-12-10T14:04:02.999-05:00The Kuhls Got Married! <p>Okay this is just a photo dump after a phenomenal Christmas and weekend in Pennsylvania. </p><p><br /></p><p>We laughed, I cried, we drank, we ate (and ate, and ate) and celebrated my favorite thing ever: love. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5CjADJziNuo/X9JpfmyZNaI/AAAAAAAADbk/kT1r7nNnHGQ-QALhwlyQueYfXFW9WChPQCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/C6DFCDB4-BC0D-4624-AF79-0E3AB6D10827.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5CjADJziNuo/X9JpfmyZNaI/AAAAAAAADbk/kT1r7nNnHGQ-QALhwlyQueYfXFW9WChPQCNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/C6DFCDB4-BC0D-4624-AF79-0E3AB6D10827.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2bJg7SOeIrA/X9JpdEMC9XI/AAAAAAAADbc/1R0L6ALGe7IuKCToqWY-aLt5lste8j0VgCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/92E8AA61-402E-4380-A7DD-AE58418C36AE.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2bJg7SOeIrA/X9JpdEMC9XI/AAAAAAAADbc/1R0L6ALGe7IuKCToqWY-aLt5lste8j0VgCNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/92E8AA61-402E-4380-A7DD-AE58418C36AE.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas Day, before driving down to Lancaster</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LfpZED-nqMk/X9JphJ5SnUI/AAAAAAAADbs/8HElYnWpl0M9n3la7AHE3VKa0lW6dS3agCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_1082.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1519" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LfpZED-nqMk/X9JphJ5SnUI/AAAAAAAADbs/8HElYnWpl0M9n3la7AHE3VKa0lW6dS3agCNcBGAsYHQ/w296-h400/IMG_1082.JPG" width="296" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pT4T1Z5eV_Q/X9JpfEUWwSI/AAAAAAAADbg/WuKFyum9_kgQFh4upxF3oj81TlWhEf5PwCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/57163C39-98AF-4162-B815-98E707C0D7D3.JPG" style="clear: left; display: inline; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pT4T1Z5eV_Q/X9JpfEUWwSI/AAAAAAAADbg/WuKFyum9_kgQFh4upxF3oj81TlWhEf5PwCNcBGAsYHQ/w300-h400/57163C39-98AF-4162-B815-98E707C0D7D3.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Two cuties at a rehearsal dinner </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yXY5Z7Iooy0/X9JplbwaCKI/AAAAAAAADb0/_Zpgdqrpsr8RauLPWAPtaYsjANBXcMREACNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_2366.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yXY5Z7Iooy0/X9JplbwaCKI/AAAAAAAADb0/_Zpgdqrpsr8RauLPWAPtaYsjANBXcMREACNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/IMG_2366.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aCo8EuTYfGs/X9JpgQzxs_I/AAAAAAAADbo/pgKzqiGSz8gkMHJW9uhsYpsmxxibbzbYwCNcBGAsYHQ/s1616/IMG_1202.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1616" height="428" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aCo8EuTYfGs/X9JpgQzxs_I/AAAAAAAADbo/pgKzqiGSz8gkMHJW9uhsYpsmxxibbzbYwCNcBGAsYHQ/w640-h428/IMG_1202.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-buHCET-m8F8/X9Jpmx2XI-I/AAAAAAAADb4/53NqhvhdyvcfmNEzts2cwNvoz4OSJBSFACNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_3888.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-buHCET-m8F8/X9Jpmx2XI-I/AAAAAAAADb4/53NqhvhdyvcfmNEzts2cwNvoz4OSJBSFACNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/IMG_3888.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8Yk_elNeniU/X9JpnD165hI/AAAAAAAADcA/RubWeCkh1QAY1GSS9yANiSIMXjcDPjDzwCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_2531.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8Yk_elNeniU/X9JpnD165hI/AAAAAAAADcA/RubWeCkh1QAY1GSS9yANiSIMXjcDPjDzwCNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/IMG_2531.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-25pYpjvcXSg/X9JphuXtpxI/AAAAAAAADbw/G5Lx48EGLTIV6QdteO_7eskKUtaYpOIzQCNcBGAsYHQ/s960/IMG_1212.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="721" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-25pYpjvcXSg/X9JphuXtpxI/AAAAAAAADbw/G5Lx48EGLTIV6QdteO_7eskKUtaYpOIzQCNcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_1212.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-9463715687842008002019-12-21T13:10:00.019-05:002020-12-10T14:04:37.833-05:00Let's Ride, Baby! <p>I bought a Peloton! </p><p><br /></p><p>Was it the best idea ever? <i>No clue! </i></p><p><br /></p><p>Can I afford that $2500 price tag? <i>No way! </i></p><p><br /></p><p>Am I excited? <i>Yeah duh! </i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bxhx-3wNVg4/X9Jntqx1ugI/AAAAAAAADbI/2V9um0Qmsy4b0k1YMC8QAVPpBfCh_KvPwCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/948B5640-63E4-4DC5-BCF4-C518A91BEEAB.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1562" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bxhx-3wNVg4/X9Jntqx1ugI/AAAAAAAADbI/2V9um0Qmsy4b0k1YMC8QAVPpBfCh_KvPwCNcBGAsYHQ/w488-h640/948B5640-63E4-4DC5-BCF4-C518A91BEEAB.JPG" width="488" /></a></div><p></p><p>So here's the deal. I bought a Peloton with Affirm. (This is the company that Peloton has contracted with. I didn't seek them out.) Which means that I financed the bike. And instead of dropping $2500, I will pay $65.78 until my bike is paid off. This is a 0% interest loan. <i>Which had a HUGE impact in my decision to use Affirm.</i> I still pay the monthly Peloton membership fee as well (just over $40.)</p><p><br /></p><p>But! This means that for less than $130 (the average cost of a boutique fitness membership in Burlington,) I will have a Peloton, and all the goodness that comes with it. </p><p><br /></p><p>Just in the name of transparency, I'll also share that I eliminated my car payment this summer, and this is about half as much as that. So this purchase truly is something that I have planned and budgeted for. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wSiVCUpDvDI/X9Jn5l_GftI/AAAAAAAADbM/PMXy3omwdp4L0L30PKuRGYqoMB79CaxwwCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/B7CF9507-33CD-4F95-A1B2-82C43F8ABF64.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wSiVCUpDvDI/X9Jn5l_GftI/AAAAAAAADbM/PMXy3omwdp4L0L30PKuRGYqoMB79CaxwwCNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/B7CF9507-33CD-4F95-A1B2-82C43F8ABF64.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><p>But the fun stuff! </p><p><br /></p><p>This bike, <i>you guys.</i> It is so pretty! So sleek! So QUIET. </p><p><br /></p><p>The delivery was much faster than originally anticipated, and it was really seamless. (Delivery in Vermont is facilitated by XPO Logistics. They delivered and assembled my bike, and in total it was about 15 minutes of set up.) </p><p><br /></p><p>And the programming! Holy smokes. There are cycling classes of course (live and recorded) but there are also strength classes, yoga classes, running classes, meditation classes - and the library of recorded classes is huge! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ll8BgDPLkGY/X9JoDUpPONI/AAAAAAAADbQ/5zPp_aGYlEk0CEBgXun7ZJD8kx22rMokgCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_7744.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1539" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ll8BgDPLkGY/X9JoDUpPONI/AAAAAAAADbQ/5zPp_aGYlEk0CEBgXun7ZJD8kx22rMokgCNcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/IMG_7744.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><p>On top of that, I'm really happy with the accessories package. I will say, this is something that some people could easily deem pointless, as you <i>can</i> buy all of it outside of Peloton. However! I had a $100 coupon, which basically meant the accessories package I got was free. </p><p><br /></p><p>I got the mat, the headphones, the 2 LB weights, the shoes, and the heart rate monitor. </p><p><br /></p><p>All in all, I am so so happy with this bike. And I absolutely cannot wait to keep riding! </p><p><br /></p><p>Questions? Lemme know!! </p>Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-74259656800910395852019-08-27T18:15:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:35.204-04:00Here We Go (Again) Are we ready for this?<br />
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I don't even know now how many times I've stepped away and come back, but, here we go.<br />
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Another point oh, another return, whatever. It's my blog, I make the rules. And the rules now say I can come and go however many times I want.<br />
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Ready for a recap?<br />
<br />
Let's go.<br />
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I went to France.<br />
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I left the airport.<br />
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I got this really great guy to hang out with me pretty often.<br />
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I did plenty of summer stuff.<br />
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I hung out with my best girl.<br />
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And now, we're here.<br />
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<br />Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-43616626188277774422019-06-03T22:08:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:34.364-04:00Miss Vermont 2019 Former life is no longer weird, and I <i>love</i> that.<br />
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It used to be that I felt out of place, and I don't know, wildly unliked. (<i>That part is still true for some folks, but hey, not everyone can be nice and that's okay.) </i>I used to feel like I didn't belong and that anything I would do or say would be the wrong thing.</div>
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Honestly, I felt that way even when I gave up my title.<br />
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This year, I finally finally <i>finally</i> felt fine.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D4_sQ8SPaJs/XXmoFECrFSI/AAAAAAAADWM/4ptinHWb_bwDkXxv8GcnBO8TP2C18V2bwCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/1FE5A674-C120-45E0-B9A6-DF97038261FC.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1203" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D4_sQ8SPaJs/XXmoFECrFSI/AAAAAAAADWM/4ptinHWb_bwDkXxv8GcnBO8TP2C18V2bwCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/1FE5A674-C120-45E0-B9A6-DF97038261FC.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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I mean, there were some weird parts. There was some awkwardness from the people that aren't big fans of mine.<br />
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But it was <i>fun.</i> And I decided, "hell with them!" And I just embraced celebrating my sister, <i>despite</i> the weird stuff.<br />
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And also, I felt damn good in my dress. That helps.<br />
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I know that as time goes on the way I feel about these things will continue to evolve.<br />
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But I <i>love</i> this program, this sisterhood, this dream, the power that is behind the Miss Vermont Organization. So, heck yes I want to keep being there. And heck yes, I want to keep supporting these girls.<br />
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You know what we always say!<br />
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There is not just one Miss Vermont on that stage on competition night!<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5leWGssGsgg/XXmoFbf-cUI/AAAAAAAADWQ/iFdGrvemS0ovGig4YLT2Qo9H6AOFs-Z9ACNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_2037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5leWGssGsgg/XXmoFbf-cUI/AAAAAAAADWQ/iFdGrvemS0ovGig4YLT2Qo9H6AOFs-Z9ACNcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_2037.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-45037252088375626782019-05-24T21:46:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:34.475-04:0026 Things I Learned in My 26th Year<div style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">1. Teamwork makes the difference, every single time </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">2. Literally everyone has something to teach you. Every one. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3. We can all - <i>all</i> - stand to be more considerate when we travel. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">4. Idolizing marriage, engagement, and weddings is such a huge fucking waste of time and energy. And moving through that was hard and weird as hell, but <i>woooorth ittttt</i>. </span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VuqfNg6PQoo/XXmhFzhiqII/AAAAAAAADVg/rZ-8X-ygd1w4hB2B6XLX5IF8kqvV60QFACNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Snapseed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VuqfNg6PQoo/XXmhFzhiqII/AAAAAAAADVg/rZ-8X-ygd1w4hB2B6XLX5IF8kqvV60QFACNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Snapseed.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">5. It’s super cool to date after becoming bffs</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">6. It matters to show up for the people that <i>are</i> there and the people that <i>do</i> care, and they do recognize it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">7. Act your way into thinking differently </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">8. My dog has literally kept me alive </span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tHzJ9qlZ57Y/XXmhctT3FmI/AAAAAAAADVs/otZnSDNVGYIh4Ke9iVO3hhnB36q4O6khACNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_0253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tHzJ9qlZ57Y/XXmhctT3FmI/AAAAAAAADVs/otZnSDNVGYIh4Ke9iVO3hhnB36q4O6khACNcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_0253.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">9. Retail therapy is still not a real thing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">10. Actual therapy is real, and amazing, and everyone should use it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">11. Suggesting that people get help, is not that helpful. Reaching out always is. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">12. A drive across the country is hard, and so interesting, and friggen cool</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">13. Healing is literally addressing pain and trauma. And that hurts so much. And that’s okay. </span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--RcdeRQjE2o/XXmhD4RlI_I/AAAAAAAADVU/NzOLul8q87klLBnUL6zeXzI8HzKLWoiqACEwYBhgL/s1600/42735A34-A2A9-406A-8798-491A76FD3647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--RcdeRQjE2o/XXmhD4RlI_I/AAAAAAAADVU/NzOLul8q87klLBnUL6zeXzI8HzKLWoiqACEwYBhgL/s640/42735A34-A2A9-406A-8798-491A76FD3647.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">14. The finish line doesn’t have an expiration date</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: inherit;">15. I </span><span style="color: #454545;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(69, 69, 69);">definitely</span></span><span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> do not </span>want<span style="font-family: inherit;"> to go to medical school.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">16. But I could get </span>behind<span style="font-family: inherit;"> the idea of a post-grad program that would allow me to teach Special Education.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">17. </span>People<span style="font-family: inherit;"> will pick their nose anywhere. </span>Especially<span style="font-family: inherit;"> in an airport.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">18. You have to ask for what you want.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--nNzujUruBY/XXmhD-F_ENI/AAAAAAAADVw/mGuH6KXkxy4ZXmFKNfsPMABizVCuVh6qgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_2918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--nNzujUruBY/XXmhD-F_ENI/AAAAAAAADVw/mGuH6KXkxy4ZXmFKNfsPMABizVCuVh6qgCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_2918.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">19. You don't need a "reason" for your depressive episode. You don't need to explain your depressive episode. </span></span></div>
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20. Cutting and plating brownies is a waste of time. We don't need to do this. Eat them out of the pan. </div>
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21. Wearing sunscreen every day is not just a mild suggestion, friggen do it.</div>
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22. Getting a puppy in the midst of being depressed, and changing so much about my life was absolutely the best decision I could have made. And I do actually think everyone needs a pet.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PCsPUabLc3g/XXmjQMB_nKI/AAAAAAAADV8/R-eilYICP2wg3cSkuLY-cBRULHPqFnRaACNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/E6B02C7C-0325-4BFA-8256-0B3523784A25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PCsPUabLc3g/XXmjQMB_nKI/AAAAAAAADV8/R-eilYICP2wg3cSkuLY-cBRULHPqFnRaACNcBGAsYHQ/s640/E6B02C7C-0325-4BFA-8256-0B3523784A25.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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23. Even after hard races, I can still love running. </div>
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24. Food. Is. Food. (Food is nourishment, food is enjoyable, food is not the enemy.) </div>
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25. Honestly, you should just buy yourself the flowers. </div>
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26. You can't retire at 26, but you should be able to. </div>
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Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-56109059319398789102019-05-17T21:23:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:34.683-04:00It (Still) Is Not Linear It seems weird that "even now" I have this struggle with my body, with my food, with my will and desire to eat.<br />
<br />
Even now, as in, even now so far past my pageant "career." Even now, so long since I have been challenging myself to be in the "best shape of my life." Even now that I <i>have </i>accomplished so many of those big dreams that were, in some ways, about what I looked like.<br />
<br />
But, hooo boooy, it is a struggle.<br />
<br />
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<br />
This week, yesterday, this month - sometimes it feels like it is constantly a struggle.<br />
<br />
And I know why.<br />
<br />
That's the thing I know exactly what is sitting the back of my head on this one. I know that whole "that five to ten extra pounds is where your body is <i>supposed </i>to sit thing." And I know that it all plays together to make the last few weeks real shitty in this body.<br />
<br />
I've been tempted - <i>if I am being honest, which I am - </i>to throw my hands up and say, "screw this."<br />
<br />
Because you know what? It does seem easier sometimes to go back to counting macros, to go back to tracking my food, to go back to watching every single "active move calorie" on my watch. Because then there is control, right? Then I'm taking back this train that my body is careening away on, right? Then I'm headed back to where I "want" to be, right?<br />
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No. I mean we know that. The answer is no.<br />
<br />
But sometimes it <i>does</i> feel that way. (And that's okay. And recognizing it is <i>good.</i>)<br />
<br />
Because when you feel squishy, and you aren't liking what is in the mirror, and you're constantly thinking about how the jeans feel, and how many carbs you've already had today - it is hard to look at the whole reality. As it is now. Not as it was then. Not as it could be. Not as we want it to be.<br />
<br />
And that's where I am at.<br />
<br />
This week eating is hard. This week working out it is hard. This week I tried, despite everything that I wanted to do, and I didn't just throw my hands up.<br />
<br />
That is enough.<br />
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<br />Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-90126078242906378142019-05-16T20:13:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:35.820-04:00This Shit is Bananas I feel so messy inside right now.<br />
<br />
Do you ever get that way?<br />
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Where you don't know how to solve any of the problems in your life or your brain, or whatever, so you just have this mess of shit teeming around in you that you can't get rid of?<br />
<br />
I don't know how to solve a lot of problems, honestly.<br />
<br />
And I don't know how to move through this shitstorm of bad news, bad actions, bad laws, bad people, and bad shit that we have going on in this country.<br />
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And it hurts so much.<br />
<br />
As an empath, as a woman, as a sister, as a daughter, as a friend, as someone who just believes in human decency it hurts so much.<br />
<br />
So here's what I do know....<br />
<br />
You can donate to these causes, and it <i>will</i> make a difference in someone's life.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://yellowhammerfund.org/" target="_blank">Yellowhammer Fund</a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.weareplannedparenthood.org/onlineactions/cOJVhOyrzkq4uBcxVekXFA2?unpubredirect=true&sourceid=1000065&affiliateID=091770" target="_blank">Planned Parenthood of Northern New England </a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.aclu.org/" target="_blank">ACLU</a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://secure.actblue.com/donate/handmarkedballots?refcode=IG071819HPB" target="_blank">Fair Fight Action</a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.higherheightsforamerica.org/2018_donate" target="_blank">Higher Heights for America </a><br />
<br />
...or just donate to any candidate that has a soul, a plan, and isn't a white cis male. Because we need to fricken fix this shit, stat.<br />
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<br />Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-32443321783112342932019-04-30T20:02:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:34.104-04:00Oui Out HereI went to France!!!!!!!!<br />
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<br />
<i>What. The. Hell.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
It was wonderful! It was exhausting! I need more time! I'm glad I'm home!<br />
<br />
If you get the chance, <i>go</i>.<br />
<br />
That's what they always say, right? <i>Right</i>.<br />
<br />
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<br />
But truly, truly, I mean it. Growing up, I was that cynical little shit that "didn't see the appeal" of France. Literally, I have said that.<br />
<br />
And that's stupid.<br />
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<br />
<br />
It is wonderful, and I need at least another month of my life to be spent there.<br />
<br />
So, here is the low down.<br />
<br />
The Brother moved to Bordeaux last summer (<i>fall? Whatever. The end of my trip to Florida, he was headed to France. Talk about a dichotomy of locations.) </i>Anyway, he went to France to attend graduate school for a degree in wine management.<br />
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<br />
<i>What's that? We still don't know.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
And he moves home in <i>about</i> a week, so it was high time we Fields hiked our hineys across the pond to see his insanely tiny apartment and eat so much food.<br />
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<br />
So that is what we did!<br />
<br />
We spent half our time in Bordeaux, eating at Brother's favorite spots, touring around like nerds, and trying to figure out this whole jet-lagged-but-gotta-see-stuff thing. Then we spent the other half of the trip in Paris. Which, no matter what you've heard, or seen online, or on TV, you definitely have only seen about 2% of the magic of that city.<br />
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Absolutely far and away the dreamiest trip I've ever been on.<br />
<br />
I would go 100 more times.<br />
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<br />
I don't have too many details about where we ate, or what we did. Because a lot of it was in French, and while I felt.....competent, while we were there, much French is actually tres bad.<br />
<br />
A couple things - if you do go to Bordeaux, and you should, really. Take the advice of the locals when it comes to food and wine. Because Bordeaux is no where near as touristy as Paris, many of the folks we encountered were Bordeaux natives, and really really wonderful.<br />
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<br />
If you go to Paris, it is <i>completely</i> and <i>totally</i> worth it to wake up early and go to the main sites. The Eiffel Tour at 7 AM on a weekday... it is like nothing else. The Luxembourg Gardens at 2 PM on Wednesday, so wonderfully calm and inviting in the middle of the city. Make the time, take the time, it is so worth it.<br />
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Also - for Disney people - yes, we went to Disneyland Paris.<br />
<br />
And wowie wowie wowie - the level of <i>detail</i> and <i>thought</i> that is in this park is unlike any other Disney property I have been to.<br />
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<br />
There are <i>a lot </i>of cultural differences that I was not expecting (cast member involvement and responsiveness is so so much less than in WDW for one.) But I do think, if you're there, you should go. (<i>You could feasibly do it all in one day!) </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Finally - there are a couple meals that blew my freaking mind.<br />
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<a href="https://www.karlbordeaux.fr/" target="_blank">Karl</a>.<br />
<br />
It was our first meal in Bordeaux after we got off a transcontinental flight (and sprinted through Charles de Gaulle to catch our flight to Bordeaux) but it was <i>unreal.</i> I genuinely ate more in that meal than I ever have before.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.restaurant-alkaram.fr/" target="_blank">Al Karam</a>.<br />
<br />
Our favorite dinner in Paris was in a tiny, family-owned, gloriously tucked away Lebanese restaurant. Insanely flavorful and traditional, with two kind and helpful owners, it was such a perfect experience.<br />
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Oh, and <i>last last</i> thing - check out my IG story highlights for some of my other favorite spots, pics, etc.!<br />
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Okay, bye, gotta go sleep!Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-73113407392643902242019-04-14T18:48:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:35.128-04:00Let's Fly, Let's Fly AwayThis is a final boarding call, for me, at the airport.<br />
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Ladies and gents, the doors have closed, and we are pulling away from the jet bridge.<br />
<br />
I walked out of the airport last night as a manager for the last time. And as quickly as it started, and as whirlwind as the beginning was, it feel mostly the same as it comes to an end.<br />
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<br />
I had no <i>freakin</i> clue what I was getting into this fall when it came to the airport, when it came to restaurant management, and when it came to being on the floor <i>all. day. long.</i> I still some days think I have no freakin clue about those things.<br />
<br />
And if we're being real? (<i>We are.)</i> The beginning of this was hard. It was really, <i>really</i>, hard. It was a little weird, and a little painful, and there was a <i>steep</i> learning curve.<br />
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There was a lot of learning, and a lot of <i>growth</i>, that not only I needed to go through - but that our whole team on site needed to go through too. <i>Thank goodness that we did though. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
But!<br />
<br />
I know that as hard as it has been, it has actually been the single most valuable job I've had so far. This place has taught me <i>so</i> much about managing like an actual leader, training in a way that actually allows employees to succeed, and also about some weird aviation shit.<br />
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And the end? The end has been sweet really, bittersweet.<br />
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I am so happy to be going towards a set up that is good for me, good for Pipey, and good for the kind of life that I want <i>outside of work.</i><br />
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<br />
But I am sad to leave this team behind. I am sad that I won't spend my days talking to 20 employees, and laughing my butt off, and meeting people from all over.<br />
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I'm stinkin proud of how this journey played out, and I'm stinkin proud to have been apart of this crew.<br />
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<br />Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-8438949957477045402019-04-03T18:28:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:35.603-04:00Still Workin' on ma Fitness I stopped doing fitness challenges, bootcamps, and "fun" wellness dares because that shit was screwing with my head.<br />
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I stopped thinking about "have to" and "should" and started just doing what worked for me. And you know what happened?<br />
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Well for one, yes, I gained weight.<br />
<br />
<i>Yikes? Meh, yes and no. (Also more on that, I promise.)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I figured out I'm better at taking care of myself without all of that noise and "encouragement," than I am with all of that pressure.<br />
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There are so many things about a "do this many X in 30 days," and "run Y times in one week" that really, frankly, mess me up. They mess up my concept of <i>do I want to do this, or do I feel like I </i>have <i>to do this? </i>They mess me up with guilt - loads and loads of guilt - that is just so pointless.<br />
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I get it though. Who doesn't love that accomplished feeling? Who doesn't love to feel like, heck yeah I did it?!<br />
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I love that too.<br />
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I just love that showing up to take care of this brain, and this heart, is <i>easier</i> when I'm showing up for my <i>body </i>because I want to.<br />
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Not because of a calendar, or a prize, or incentive, or whatever.<br />
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Me, physically enjoying my life, that's the incentive.<br />
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<br />Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-89649859494223081992019-03-27T18:40:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:35.762-04:00Piper Kate Pup-dateLeaving Piper Kate every day to work long and difficult hours at the airport is far and away the hardest part about this new position.<br />
<br />
I hear you, people leave their pets and their kids and all sorts of stuff at home, to go to work, and slave away all day, all the time.<br />
<br />
Not wrong.<br />
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<i>But let's keep in mind that I am not struggling less just because someone else is struggling also. We don't play the pain Olympics around here, remember?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Before I spent three months with her, every single day, just the two of us - I also had her by my side since the day I brought her home. (Not to mention that I was beyond privileged to be able to <i>visit her</i> every single week from the day she was born until the day she came home.)<br />
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So to say it has been her and I for months and months, is not at all wrong.<br />
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Beyond that, as you know (<i>do you? I think you do.</i>) she is my service animal. She serves a very real purpose in my day to day life - <i>especially now</i> - that helps me mitigate my anxiety, cope with my depression, and keep a realistic grasp on my ED recovery plan.<br />
<br />
To be without her during the day is one thing, to be without her during a 10 hour work day is another thing, but to feel the increased stress and anxiety knowing that she's home alone is <i>a whoooole 'nother beast </i>altogether.<br />
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<br />
I don't really have a solution right now. I don't really have a plan right now.<br />
<br />
As much as she is considered a necessity for me, I'm also no longer in a position that can reasonably accommodate me. (For a lot of reasons, the first and easiest is that I am in and out of kitchens all day long. But also, I don't know how dogs pass federal background checks.)<br />
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<br />
So what does it mean?<br />
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It means I'm trying to find new ways to cope, every day while at work. It means, that as soon as I come home (usually 9 to 11 hours after I've left her) I get on the floor with her, we cuddle, and I cry.<br />
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It means I just miss her, all the time. And goodness, I hope it means you'll go hug your dog.<br />
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<br />Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-40954307418161577392019-03-25T11:30:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:34.256-04:00Here We Go (Again)<i>But why did you stop writing in the first place?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Because I stopped being able to tell you the whole story.<br />
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<br />
<br />
This time last year, I issued myself a gag order when it became clear that I could no longer share the details of what was hurting me, without inevitably hurting someone else. Or, at the very least, upsetting a likely wonderful reality for someone else.<br />
<br />
So I stopped talking about the whole thing. And slowly, but certainly surely, I stopped being able to tell all the parts of my story that started from that thread.<br />
<br />
I guess that made stopping easier. As large parts of my life, and my life lessons, and the things that were making me me - had to be redacted - the public part of my life had to get smaller and smaller.<br />
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Now? What has happened?<br />
<br />
Time. Mostly time.<br />
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<br />
<br />
For as horrible, and painful, and soul-building, and heart-changing as that whole <i>season</i> was...I am through it. I have moved into the next year. I have moved into the next phase/step/chapter.<br />
<br />
And truly, that's what Florida was for.<br />
<br />
I needed a hard reset.<br />
<br />
Not just powering down and restarting. I needed to shut this thing down, leave it for a day (or three months,) and then try powering back up again. Hell, let's upgrade the software while we're at it.<br />
<br />
<i>Glory be, it worked. </i><br />
<br />
Florida changed my heart, changed my head, changed my life.<br />
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<br />
And the grateful wave that hit me the moment I drove onto my little island <i>truly truly truly</i> hasn't stopped hitting me since. I don't know that I will ever be able to fully share how wholly I needed that time, and how insanely thankful I am for it.<br />
<br />
Now, I'm back. I've been back. And many wonderful, hard, amazing, and growth-inducing things have happened in the last seven months.<br />
<br />
I think it's now or never, though. I think I'm ready to start sharing this big ol' mushy heart again. Because here's the thing, sister I've got <i>a lot </i>to say.<br />
<br />
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<br />Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-86392142515510696742018-07-10T19:57:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:35.681-04:00Right NowI keep thinking that I have to explain myself, and my heart right now, and what I'm doing on this break, to you all.<br />
<br />
And frankly, I really don't.<br />
<br />
I want to sometimes.<br />
<br />
But I don't have to. And I have to keep reminding myself that I don't actually owe the internet an explanation. (Moreover, internet, I have written one out - but to be really really honest with you, it's too much. It's too many emotions and details to give it to you in a blog post. It's too complicated.)<br />
<br />
That being said, I hope we can kinda just move through the fact that you don't know every detail of what is going on in my life/brain/soul, and keep this boat floating.<br />
<br />
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<br />Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-18549129775241384442018-06-17T13:30:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:33.804-04:008 Things that are Bringing Me Joy Right NowRight now, I'm taking it easy. Which I'm sure you know.<br />
<br />
But I'm also actively trying to put my pieces back in order.<br />
<br />
So here are just a few things that make me happy:<br />
<br />
1. My girl Peeks<br />
<br />
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<br />
2. Twitter<br />
<i>Odd, I know. But getting back into Twitter is actually bringing me a whole heck of a lot of joy. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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<br />
<br />
3. Chick. Fil. A. Lemonade<br />
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<br />
4. Actively not doing my makeup, because I just don't want to<br />
<br />
5. Binging "Designated Survivor"<br />
<br />
6. The beach<br />
<i>Oh the beach. It's so so so what my heart needed.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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<br />
7. Piper Kate's new hair cut<br />
<i>She's just so soft now! And she looks so much smaller! </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
8. Quality time being the annoying older sister<br />
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<br />Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-80484046773717496992018-06-09T15:00:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:35.414-04:00Back at The BarreRemember when I was all Pure Barre, all the time?<br />
<br />
Kinda feels like a lifetime ago, huh? Yeah.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Listen, as a reminder, I stopped teaching because I was Miss Vermont, I was working a new and wildly demanding job, and at the same time I was trying to maintain a social life and get some sleep. It just wasn't sustainable. And frankly, it was the only thing that was expendable.<br />
<br />
Did that mean I had to leave the studio altogether? Of course not! But that felt like the right move.<br />
<br />
However, the time to "get back to the barre" is truly now.<br />
<br />
I mean, I can be the new girl. I can be the girl that doesn't know the moves any more. I can be the girl that just goes into the studio to workout. <i>The new client prices don't hurt either.</i><br />
<br />
So I went back.<br />
<br />
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And hell yeah I was nervous. No one wants to be a novice at something they once excelled at. No one wants to be the new girl all over again, of course not.<br />
<br />
But it wasn't so bad.<br />
<br />
Actually, it was really freakin good.<br />
<br />
Because I was not as bad as I thought I was going to be, (and everyone was so nice!) Maybe most importantly, I wasn't as weak as I thought I'd be.<br />
<br />
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So much of this life right now is testing my strength. It's hard - you know - emotionally, mentally - to be the girl that is starting all over. I have said before that the choice wasn't easy, but it was quick. Well, the "not so easy" side of things is...extending.<br />
<br />
To test myself physically, too? I didn't know if it was the right move.<br />
<br />
Obviously I know myself well enough to know that when things get hard, sitting still isn't going to help me. I know I need to run, or get to the gym, or maybe, just maybe, get back to the barre.<br />
<br />
I'm only here for a month, so, starting slow and small is kinda perfect here.<br />
<br />
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<br />
One month.<br />
<br />
One month of trying this again.<br />
<br />
And maybe that's just the perfect way to dip my high heels back into this whole thing, right?Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-54074373425922760112018-06-07T22:03:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:34.635-04:00Bring Back the BikiniOkay. Are you still reading posts about the MAO change?<br />
<br />
Can we talk about it through the lens of recovery, and how it can still be useful even if women have, and will continue to, struggle with body image?<br />
<br />
<i>Yes? Awesome.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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<br />
So, here's the deal. You know pretty much where I stand on diets, trendy lifestyle changes, bullshit food rules, and in general, disordered behaviors that are mainstream.<br />
<br />
Blanket statement: they all suck.<br />
<br />
You also know where I stand on pageant prep. I've done it. I've done it ways that "work" and ways that don't. I've done it while being "healthy" and while being unhealthy. By and large, I look at it as training for a specific purpose, with the right resources, and a firm end date, I do actually believe it is possible to train for a pageant/competition/whatthehellever and still remain a normal human with normal habits.<br />
<br />
<i>That being said...</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
There is a grey area in everything. This swimsuit change, and the reasoning behind it - and the truth that lies in the struggles of getting to that moment on stage, and what happens after - all have grey in them.<br />
<br />
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<br />
So, let's start with the act of removing the Lifestyle & Fitness portion of the competition based on the notion of female empowerment, and not judging contestants "on their outward physical appearance."<br />
<br />
Okay, we're just all going to agree that your outward physical appearance is still present and relevant in literally <i>every phase</i> of competition, right?<br />
<br />
I don't know about you, but I sure as heck did my hair and makeup just as diligently for interview, OSQ, talent, and evening gown as I did for swim. I understand the notion that in no other part of competition is a judge looking a my body for the sake of judging me on that presentation. Sure.<br />
<br />
But let's be clear, the judgment of what those contestants look like is not going away.<br />
<br />
And while we are talking about what those contestants look like, I'll have to ask someone to remind me how that has anything to do with being, or not being, empowered?<br />
<br />
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<br />
You know I'm Team #MeToo.<br />
<br />
However, you also know I'm Team Share Whatever Story You Want Because Your Validity Doesn't Hinge on Your Willingness to Bear Your Soul.<br />
<br />
<i>And on top of that</i> at what point did we decide that female empowerment <i>couldn't mean</i> walking on stage in a swimsuit?<br />
<br />
Are we really about to make MAO the banner for, "well, we care about women's brains and what is on the inside, so obviously that means they shouldn't also wear swimsuits on stage?" Because that is not real. Someone tell me that is not real.<br />
<br />
Look.<br />
<br />
This female empowerment/outward appearance argument falls really short in one fell swoop. Because the thing is, they don't <i>need</i> the swimsuit to show how empowered they are, or that they are physically beautiful, but the kicker is that <i>the swimsuit doesn't negate anything that they are, or have accomplished, or wish to do.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
The swimsuit doesn't take away from the woman and her brain.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Alright.<br />
<br />
So then there is the argument of how the girl managed to get to that point. The point where she is on stage - in this case, a national stage - in a swimsuit, in what we like to assume is "the best shape of her life."<br />
<br />
Okay. This argument has more merit, I'll admit.<br />
<br />
But still, we need to look at this logically.<br />
<br />
Because not every single girl that goes on stage at a local, state, or national level is going to do so from a place of disordered eating or behaviors. But to have even one girl feel that way is one girl too many.<br />
<br />
So is removing the swimsuit the best option?<br />
<br />
Or do we need to be asking more of our current titleholders, of our boards, and of our fitness sponsors?<br />
<br />
Shouldn't we be looking at having conversations about what health <i>actually </i>looks like instead of asking them to wing it?<br />
<br />
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<br />
I know that there are a lot of things that can go wrong between deciding to compete, and getting that 45 seconds on stage in swimsuit.<br />
<br />
But I know that a lot of things can fall into place as well.<br />
<br />
I know that girls will tell you they learned to love vegetables, the value of a nutrient, the ability to lift weights, and what it means to be someone who works towards a goal.<br />
<br />
Personally? I eat far better than I ever would've without the swift kick in the behind that was signing up for my first round of Miss Vermont. I learned to run. I learned to lift. I learned the kind of macro-nutrients my body wants and needs. I learned what fuel is, and what doesn't work for me.<br />
<br />
And yes, totally, along the way I found a lot of dark spots that brought along some unhealthy habits.<br />
<br />
But again, do we think that removing swimsuit is going to <i>help</i> that problem?<br />
<br />
I don't. I really don't.<br />
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<br />
<br />
There is the grey area.<br />
<br />
These women are truly the best of the best. They have worked their <i>butts</i> off to get to the stage (local, state, and national. Let's recognize.) And I do not believe that they are going stop working their butts off because there is no longer a Lifestyle & Fitness portion of the competition. But I do think that, as an organization, we have just been knocked down a couple of pegs.<br />
<br />
At the end of the day, Miss America started as a swimsuit competition, yes. But it has evolved to shape the lives of tens of thousands of women by providing a platform that allows them to say, <i>I am smart, I am strong, I am willing to serve, and hell yes, I'll do it in a pair of falsies. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I will continue to support the amazing women that bravely dream of their day on that Miss America stage. Because, of course I will. But no, I don't think we fixed anything by removing swim.<br />
Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-71629262726088530792018-06-07T13:00:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:35.108-04:00Money, Fame & DepressionAlright.<br />
<br />
I am not sure I'm totally ready to put this all into words, but I'm going to try.<br />
<br />
And if you are thinking, "<i>well if you aren't ready to write about it, then why are you writing about it?" </i>You make a great point.<br />
<br />
But I think the answer is that, first of all, <i>now or never</i>. And second of all, if I see one more thing that says, "<i>It just goes to show that money/fame/success/what you see on the outside..." </i>and how these things somehow mean people could otherwise negate their mental illness, I am going to lose my <i>dang mind.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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<br />
So here's the thing guys. <i>Seriously, listen.</i><br />
<br />
Mental illness is an illness.<br />
<br />
And it is not about what you do for a job, or how much money you make, or what state you live in, or what gender you are, or if you are in a happy relationship, or if you are alone...it is about your brain. And when you have a mental illness your brain is sick.<br />
<br />
Some people have sick kidneys, or livers, or hearts. Some people have sick brains.<br />
<br />
Now. I know <i>a lot </i>of people have experienced some brush with mental illness in their lifetime. And I'm absolutely thankful that <i>so many </i>people only know about a fleeting mental debilitation, or know about mental illness because someone they know/love has lived with it.<br />
<br />
But what that means is that those people - most people - don't have a super good idea of the permanence of mental illness...in, well, a lot of us.<br />
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So when someone is really sick, and it's not a passing case of depression or anxiety brought on by the loss of a loved one, the end of a job, or even a broken relationship (<i>all of which are wildly valid reasons for depression or anxiety, but often treatable with some therapy and time, and not lasting more than a few months. And to be clear there are a variety of types of depression and anxiety, but like anything some are more severe than others.) - </i>that person that's really sick, they probably can't look too far outside of their sick brain a lot the time.<br />
<i><br /></i>
And having money isn't going to change that. And having an empire isn't going to change that. And being someone that portrays a <i>happy</i> brand isn't going to change that.<br />
<br />
Because their brain is sick.<br />
<br />
To be clear, that is not a choice, just like heart disease is not a choice. And you can't just make yourself better by focusing on the good, just like you can't just make arthritis better by focusing on healthy joints.<br />
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<br />
And when your brain is sick, it reacts like any other sick organ, and has symptoms.<br />
<br />
Your sick brain will tell you that you are alone. Your sick brain will tell you that you are out of options. Your sick brain will tell you to not eat, lay in bed, stop reaching out - the list literally goes on and on.<br />
<br />
And your heart knows that you are not alone, and you are loved, and you do have options - but you're sick, and your brain is the one that's in control here.<br />
<br />
So, I'm having a really hard time with, <i>it just goes to show</i> and <i>there's always help</i> because the reality is, when you are that sick - those things don't...translate<br />
<br />
At that point what you need is treatment. And I can go on and on about the cost of treatment, and the availability of treatment, but the real trouble is the stigma.<br />
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<br />
<i>You know, this is pretty personal, but whatever, so is like 85% of the shit I write on here.</i> I'm on an antidepressant. And you know what's fascinating? That it is such a simple, and <i>small</i> part of my life, and my treatment - and yet we act like it's the most freaking taboo thing out there.<br />
<br />
Guys, when I started telling people about my tiny lil' pill, <i>so many</i> people quietly were like, <i>oh? yes? we're talking about this? 'cause same. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
And how lame is that?<br />
<br />
Shouldn't we be able to talk about <i>what works? </i>And shouldn't we be talking about treatment as easily as we talk about insulin pumps, and medicine that helps cholesterol?<br />
<br />
Because it is that valuable.<br />
<br />
Because treatment <i>saves lives.</i> Literally.<br />
<br />
And if we're sitting around scared to say the words <i>therapy</i> and <i>antidepressant</i> we are hurting people. We are stuffing them back into the box that their brain put them in that says, <i>do nothing, talk to no one, no help is out there.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
So I get it.<br />
<br />
I get that a death like this is shocking, and unsettling. And that's not wrong.<br />
<br />
People with suicidal depression aren't rare, and they aren't shocked. But they are sick. And they do deserve more than our misguided notion that somehow money is supposed to fix depression, and being adored is supposed to ease a broken brain.<br />
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<br />Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-27551657889032510612018-05-29T19:44:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:33.995-04:00Finish Line Feels<div class="separator" style="display: none; text-align: center;">
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This weekend I finished my fourth half marathon in three years.<br />
<br />
<i>How is that I real sentence that I can type? I do not know. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <br />
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<br />
I can't say that three years ago I would have expected to be a distance runner today. I can't even say that I consider myself a distance runner today.<br />
<br />
But I've run four half marathons.<br />
<br />
And there is something really spectacular that happens when you look at that as a whole, and you look at who I was when the gun went off on my first race, and who I am now that I've crossed another finish line.<br />
<br />
I think no matter what length you run, a race brings about a certain level of reflection and...well, feelings.<br />
<br />
I have felt just about every feeling under the sun while running. Especially while running 13.1 miles.<br />
<br />
I've been elated, pissed, disappointed, hopeful, and totally lost in thought. I've been focused on my own race, and focused on every soul around me. I've wanted to quit - for sure when I <i>broke my dang foot</i> - and I've wanted to keep going.<br />
<br />
Running races is not something I was even <i>capable </i>of three plus years ago. And now, I enjoy it.<br />
<br />
Actually I totally love it.<br />
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But totally loving running didn't come easily, and it is not constant.</div>
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Usually it happens pre-race, but typically it also happens during the race, that I entertain the idea of <i>never</i> running again. I often think that I've made the worst decision ever by signing up for yet another race, and that's usually the morning of the race.</div>
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But low and behold, whether it's a 3 mile race, or a 13 mile race, that last .1 is unlike anything else.</div>
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I mean, I've been on big stages, I've traveled to cool places, I've done some decently amazing things. Still, there is nothing like crossing the finish line.</div>
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<br />
I would be lying if I said that running came easily to me. Each race I run involves some level of fight. Some level of literally pushing as many limits as I have. Physical, mental, you name it.<br />
<br />
All that being said, my most recent half was my best race, literally ever.<br />
<br />
I have never felt so capable, so ready, and so <i>good</i> while running.<br />
<br />
I was beautifully paced. So much so, guys, that I nearly missed my dad and Doctor Roommate at the 10 mile marker. <i>Because I was so fast.</i> <i>Kid ya not</i>.<br />
<br />
I was well-fueled. I was in maybe the best <i>zone</i> I've ever been in.<br />
<br />
And I ran happy. I ran strong. I ran knowing that I <i>wanted </i> to be there.<br />
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And I knew by about mile 11 that I was going to PR. </div>
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I knew even if I slowed down dramatically, I had run my best race ever. </div>
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So I grabbed the icee pops, and the oranges, and threw out a couple high fives and finished strong. </div>
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The finish line? Not at all like a finish line that I've crossed before. Because actually, it was a transfer point. </div>
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<i>For those that don't know, to run the Vermont City Marathon as a half, you have to be part of team. There are 2, 3, and 5 person relays. I was on the first half of a 2 person relay team. But because the other half of my team wasn't running, all I had to do was cross that line - no pressure, no transfer, just joy. </i></div>
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<i><br />
</i></div>
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It was...quiet. And the people on the sidelines were not cheering, but anxiously bouncing, waiting to start their race.</div>
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And still, I felt <i>so damn proud</i> that I had just run the best race of my life.</div>
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And still...I'm taking a break from half marathons. Just for now. Just so I can take some time to not feel any pressure to hit a certain level of mileage each week. Just so I can go back to running a few miles here and there, and feeling satisfied. </div>
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I'll likely still run races, and probably run another half eventually. </div>
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Because really, nothing compares to those finish line feels. </div>
Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-58858481180664381982018-05-24T18:55:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:34.800-04:00Let's Go to the Beach, Beach <div class="separator" style="display: none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YooMCz4udY4/Wwgl8qlZtMI/AAAAAAAADDA/7wnfwiiCfqw3HuP4WV7eqVI3-iUITN5VgCLcBGAs/s1600/the%2Bleaning%2Btowerof%2Bpisa.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="leaving vermont for the summer let's go to the beach" border="0" data-original-height="1102" data-original-width="735" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YooMCz4udY4/Wwgl8qlZtMI/AAAAAAAADDA/7wnfwiiCfqw3HuP4WV7eqVI3-iUITN5VgCLcBGAs/s1600/the%2Bleaning%2Btowerof%2Bpisa.png" title="" /></a></div>Last Tuesday, I made the choice to leave Vermont for the summer.<br />
<br />
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And we will back up, and we will talk about how I got to that decision, but here are the answers to the top three questions I've gotten in the last 12 hours:<br />
<br />
<i>I leave next weekend. </i><br />
<i>I am going to Conneticut and Florida.</i><br />
<i>I'll be back in September. </i><br />
<br />
Okay.<br />
<br />
Now that we have that out of the way...<br />
<br />
Why am I leaving, right?<br />
<br />
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Because I want to. Because I need to. Because I no longer feel like Burlington is the place for me to be happy, and healthy, and <i>living my best life</i> this summer.<br />
<br />
Look, we can talk til we're blue in the face about strategies to cope with depression, and toxic relationships, and liars, and people who just suck but that you can't seem to get away from - but here's the rub - <i>I know what I need.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <br />
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And what I need is space. And time.<br />
<br />
I need the ocean.<br />
I need some new faces.<br />
I need challenges.<br />
I need the room to keep growing.<br />
I need the space to take care of myself.<br />
I need the time to move through some stuff.<br />
<br />
And I need to do it an environment that isn't this one.<br />
<br />
And we'll say it right now - <i>this is a blessing.</i> This is not something that came together easily. This is not something that just fell into my lap.<br />
<br />
This has consequences. This has <i>costs.</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kgOjuy-qXew/WwdCd3e5f4I/AAAAAAAADCw/FUc7BCioaVAZsCrTzlI-1BVNBEytpqKXwCLcBGAs/s1600/DA60C61A-7A54-4509-94B4-F70C056D35D5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kgOjuy-qXew/WwdCd3e5f4I/AAAAAAAADCw/FUc7BCioaVAZsCrTzlI-1BVNBEytpqKXwCLcBGAs/s640/DA60C61A-7A54-4509-94B4-F70C056D35D5.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br />
<br />
But the benefits are <i>far, far, </i>more important, and more valuable.<br />
<br />
So. Do you know someone that needs somewhere to stay in Burlington this summer? Hit me up.Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-78759194845381452442018-05-12T18:28:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:35.333-04:00Maybe This Time <div class="separator" style="display: none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6gw9Q-GvWCg/WxmGBmdVYvI/AAAAAAAADFw/CcYVZNP6oy4_Bp7pl0TVybRKBzLGzk7DwCLcBGAs/s1600/maybe%2Bthis%2Btime.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1102" data-original-width="735" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6gw9Q-GvWCg/WxmGBmdVYvI/AAAAAAAADFw/CcYVZNP6oy4_Bp7pl0TVybRKBzLGzk7DwCLcBGAs/s1600/maybe%2Bthis%2Btime.png" /></a></div>Ladies (and some gentlemen,) but, <i>ladies</i> it is start of what we have all been waiting for!<br />
<br />
The beginning of the crowning of the Miss America Class of 2019!!!!!!!!!<br />
<br />
<i>I wanted to do 50+ exclamation points, but I thought that might be weird. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> It is happening! This might be the last weekend of the summer without a crowning! <i>I don't know! Literally! Because I don't check the schedule! </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> But here it is. The locals are done. The paperwork is in. The last of the CMNH dollars are being raised, the ads being sold, the stones being sewed (glued?) <i>Probably, glue them, but like, don't trust me on that one. </i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uK8fsOmScDw/Ww3ShzSFFTI/AAAAAAAADDM/vtkRLx25NbU8NOdDn8fqbbiYdjErQJ9XQCLcBGAs/s1600/80Indtp.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="186" data-original-width="480" height="155" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uK8fsOmScDw/Ww3ShzSFFTI/AAAAAAAADDM/vtkRLx25NbU8NOdDn8fqbbiYdjErQJ9XQCLcBGAs/s400/80Indtp.gif" width="400" /></a></div><br />
As we watch our ever-beloved 2018 class begin to pass on their crowns, and make our brackets for each (<i>lol</i>) state pageant of 2019...there are more than one thousand women, just waiting to see if this is the year that their dream comes true.<br />
<br />
There are at least one thousand, four hundred and forty seven girls going for a state title this year. And uh, not to brag, but I did do that math.<br />
<br />
<i>1447.</i><br />
<br />
That means they won a local, they prepped a talent, they have the dress of their dreams, and they have put their heart and souls into working for that state crown.<br />
<br />
And only 51 of them will walk away with that dream <i>this year.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> 3.52% of the girls will make it to the Miss America stage.<br />
<br />
(Again, accounting for the fact that there are <i>at least</i> another 2000 girls that came out to locals throughout this year and are still dreaming the dream of going to the state level.)<br />
<br />
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Okay. Wow. Right?<br />
<br />
<i>Talk about putting some big things in perspective.</i><br />
<br />
So.<br />
<br />
How do you go through building this foundation for your dream? How do you manage to keep the focus when you know that there are so many other women that feel this pull just as strongly as you, right?<br />
<br />
Because that has got to be the goal: build the dream, keep the focus.<br />
<br />
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And it can be so hard to stay in your own lane, run your own race, and be your own person - when you are literally competing for your dream job against other wildly talented, intelligent, gifted, kind, and beautiful women.<br />
<br />
Literally, I know. I've been there.<br />
<br />
And I know that hearing from someone that made it off the state stage with a crown may not be what you need right now.<br />
<br />
Because I can tell you how I did it. How I figured out how to stay in my own lane, and run my own race. And I can tell you how I made the choice to keep coming back to that stage in the name of my dream.<br />
<br />
But you know how that story ends for me.<br />
<br />
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<br />
So I think first, we should hear from some people that don't, or didn't, get a state crown....<br />
<br />
"<i>I was devastated at first, because I felt like I had so many ideas regarding sponsorship, recruitment efforts, fundraising and ways that I could make a difference with the crown. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <b>But I look at<i> </i>what I did accomplish with a local crown</b><i> and I reflected on what I accomplished at the state pageant - swimsuit preliminary winner, a very special humanitarian award, and a boatload of scholarship money and I realized that I didn't actually walk away a loser, </i><b>I just walked away a winner in a different way.</b><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>And now that I've been out of the program for quite some time, I realize there was a different plan for me. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>If I had won, I probably wouldn't be in the job I am in, at a company that I love, and I probably would have planned the wedding of my dreams. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>I think </i><b>it's all about timing</b><i> and appreciating the card that you were dealt. And if you don't like said cards, figure out a way to make lemons out of lemonade!</i>"<br />
<br />
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<br />
Guys, <i>this</i>! Looking towards the future after a loss is <i>hard,</i> especially when the future you've been planning for, cannot be your reality.<br />
<br />
But being able to consider <i>what you did to get there</i> and how that carried you through your competition, and on to the future that follows is what is going to allow you to move on to those big amazing things that are to come.<br />
<br />
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"<i>Watching all you worked for slip away is undoubtedly one of the most difficult moments one can go through. It was time and money and energy and sacrifices that seemed to be all worth nothing, and it was a feeling of such worthlessness. </i><br />
<br />
<b>But only for one second.</b><br />
<br />
<i>Because then I realized I was blessed enough to be privy to my sweet friend realizing her dream. And that was so much cooler than all the crappy feeling I was feeling. </i><br />
<br />
<b>I mean, I still cried.</b> <i>But there was such a feeling of peace and joy. And I may or may not be taking time off. Or may just be celebrating myself and the rest of life. </i><br />
<br />
<i>But everything I've learned through pageants has given me the skills I need to succeed. I can use a microphone and navigate a room. I can speak to all age groups and motivate crowds. I can ask people for donations and organize events. I can be the leader and the follower. I can interview. I can dress well. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>I am more than my one experience because of the many experiences it took me to get there. Sometimes it still hurts looking back because it brings back feelings of inadequacy, </i><b>but my life has been so much bigger than that.</b>"<br />
<br />
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You won't want to hear it, and it may even take time to believe it, but <i>life goes on.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> Even know, my life doesn't really include the fact that I was Miss Vermont. Sure, it's something that I did. And for one year of my life it was <i>everything that I did.</i> But now? I'm more than a title. I'm more than a job. I'm more than my short time on stage.<br />
<br />
And that is true, win or lose.<br />
<br />
Because it is what you get from the program, and from the experience, and from the people that matters.<br />
<br />
The crown is nice. We know.<br />
<br />
But the value isn't in the crown.<br />
<br />
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<i>"I knew that there had to be</i><b> a reason</b><i>.</i> <i>I knew that there had to be something coming for me that year that wasn't a crown. And it turns out - even three years later - that not winning that year was the single best thing that could have happened. I couldn't see it then or for a few weeks afterwards but within a few months I was sure, it was the best thing.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>Honestly. I got lost after...I lost. I was sure the judges were wrong, and that it had to be a mistake. I knew I wanted it so much. I knew I wanted to have that job. But I didn't get how they missed that.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>And time told me. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>I didn't want to wait to find that next thing or whatever God had put on my path. I just wanted to win. And it took a while to see how clearly important it was for me to </i>not win <i>to get to where I am today." </i><br />
<br />
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I can't say it's going to make sense.<br />
<br />
I can't say it's going to feel right.<br />
<br />
But I can say what I've heard a hundred times, and what I've said a thousand times more: <i>not now, doesn't mean not ever. </i>If you scroll up you'll see many times in my life I've been on the same stage as <i>multiple </i>Miss States.<br />
<br />
As we like to say up north, <i>there are many Miss Vermonts in this room. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1YYpTq6zMos/WxlzZyfUEPI/AAAAAAAADFU/sobWyiLTXhc5lahBMBPnxmcMWfFQMGTMgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_7624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1107" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1YYpTq6zMos/WxlzZyfUEPI/AAAAAAAADFU/sobWyiLTXhc5lahBMBPnxmcMWfFQMGTMgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_7624.JPG" width="441" /></a></div><i><br />
</i> And sometimes it takes five years, or ten, or just one shot. And sometimes you go through this process and you only gain confidence, sisters, knowledge, self-worth, and scholarship dollars.<br />
<br />
I know this journey is hard, but that is exactly what makes it so worth it.Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-21739397384853439102018-05-10T10:00:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:33.867-04:00Up the Ante: Self-Care that Challenges<div class="separator" style="display: none; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EFTyWxUZOPA/WvSI9u3vlgI/AAAAAAAADBw/olHGZoXjQzsNhWO3RuukgHNNCO2xz3ioACLcBGAs/s1600/Self-Care%2Bthat%2BChallenges%2BYou.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="self care that challenges you to be more cared for" border="0" data-original-height="1102" data-original-width="735" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EFTyWxUZOPA/WvSI9u3vlgI/AAAAAAAADBw/olHGZoXjQzsNhWO3RuukgHNNCO2xz3ioACLcBGAs/s1600/Self-Care%2Bthat%2BChallenges%2BYou.png" title="" /></a></div>
It has been a bit since we've talked about self care.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Which is great, because apparently that's polarizing now, and uh, who knew. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I feel like y'all have a really good idea on where I am at with self-care.<br />
<br />
But if you don't, go over <a href="http://www.simplyrylee.com/2017/08/what-is-self-care-a-lot-more-than-coffee.html" target="_blank">here</a> and read about how I truly believe that self-care is a hell of a lot more than paying a lot for coffee and calling it self-care. (Hint: you must actually focus on <i>what/why/how to care for yourself</i> while practicing self-care. Otherwise you're just, you know, buying coffee and hoping that you feel better because of it.)<br />
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Anyways. </div>
<div>
<br />
I started trying something new in this <i>season...</i>self-care that forces me to be outside of my bubble. And If you'll bear with me just a bit here, we can talk about a bubble first.<br />
<br />
When my life is like...this. And it is hard for me to do things like eat, or run, or tell people what's going on - I get very comfortable in my shell. <i>Very</i>.<br />
<br />
I wear a lot of the same comfy outfits. I eat the same three or four meals (literally.) If I run, I run the same routes. I make my whole life as routine as possible - because that is easy, and safe, and predictable. And those things don't hurt.<br />
<br />
My bubble is simple. It's black and white. It's yes and no. It's do this, get that.<br />
<br />
While I definitely like that comfort, it is not really conducive to, well, growth, for one. I've also come to see that it is also, arguably, not great when it comes to actively caring for myself. It allows me to <i>protect </i>myself, yes. But not care.<br />
<br />
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<br />
So!<br />
<br />
Acknowledging that self-care can be challenging, and even something that forces you to be uncomfortable, has been really important for me in the last few weeks.<br />
<br />
But...what does that look like, right? What does challenging yourself, while caring for yourself look like?<br />
<br />
It looks like running on roads I deemed <i>too risky, </i>or <i>too public. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> It looks like forcing myself to go new restaurants, stores, and classes that I've never been to before.<br />
<br />
It looks like trying my damndest to work outside of what I can easily cook and eat<i>.</i><br />
<br />
It looks like playing with makeup, when I would rather just crawl into bed.<br />
<br />
It looks like talking to new people.<br />
<br />
It looks like it should be easy, but it is hard, conscious work.<br />
<br />
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<br />
It is a damn challenge for me to be okay with <i>enjoying </i>that risky running route. It's hard for me to embrace the idea of having fun in a new place, or liking a new restaurant. It isn't easy for me to cook new things, or make new outfits - when standbys are comfortable.<br />
<br />
But doing those things is ushering me into a new level of confident, of <i>happy even if, </i>of capable, and strong, and you know - being a well-cared for individual. Because when you recognize that comfort isn't serving you, that challenge becomes far more important.<br />
<br />
And that challenge becomes a new way to care for yourself. What you're doing to care for yourself is important, really, and I don't want to discount that. But whether it is a pedicure, a six mile run through downtown Burlington, or breaking in a new cookbook - it is <i>why</i> you are doing it and <i>how </i>you are using that time and that energy that has the value.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yvt6NT3WMZs/WvSGVe5MCBI/AAAAAAAADBM/rd5_WRg7hB0KgpDl8U5mKsA6Pr96W2v_wCLcBGAs/s1600/5C11C424-E708-47EC-BFAE-E4C0D533366D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yvt6NT3WMZs/WvSGVe5MCBI/AAAAAAAADBM/rd5_WRg7hB0KgpDl8U5mKsA6Pr96W2v_wCLcBGAs/s640/5C11C424-E708-47EC-BFAE-E4C0D533366D.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Self-care isn't just an action.<br />
<br />
Self-care is learning to embrace a need within you that asks for <i>more.</i> More time to yourself, more courage, more challenge, more moments of reflection, more chances to grow.<br />
<br />
Self-care is listing to <i>why</i> you are asking for more. You aren't craving the time to yourself, the courage, the challenge, the moments of reflection, and the chances to grow because it is trendy to post about self-care on the internet.<br />
<br />
<i>Although if you are, maybe reevaluate? </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QXUuhSrGKq0/WvSJOghxTXI/AAAAAAAADB4/snxmBIQB4cQtqSCyLmrlJG1RS2WY2XNrwCLcBGAs/s1600/tenor.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="460" height="216" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QXUuhSrGKq0/WvSJOghxTXI/AAAAAAAADB4/snxmBIQB4cQtqSCyLmrlJG1RS2WY2XNrwCLcBGAs/s400/tenor.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
You are craving it because something is missing.<br />
<br />
Maybe, you're like me, and you're lonely as hell and playing it safe so that you can work your way back to being the badass dream slayer that you know yourself to be. </div>
<div>
<br />
Maybe, you've been in the same spot too long. Maybe, you've let the unhealthy relationships in your life bog you down. Maybe you've been lying to yourself about <i>what does</i> feel like a challenge.<br />
<br />
And maybe, it is just time to look at what caring for yourself, means to you.<br />
<br /></div>
Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-16801037477542111552018-05-01T06:00:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:33.722-04:00Here Is What Is Going On <div class="separator" style="display: none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YH8dV-Sew-k/WvBt7vLmDBI/AAAAAAAAC-U/QtogNhxo5uQb2wdgQGjHdM8rS4ua1fwEQCEwYBhgL/s1600/Here%2527sWhat%2527s.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="the unfull story about being a dirty little secret" border="0" data-original-height="1102" data-original-width="735" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YH8dV-Sew-k/WvBt7vLmDBI/AAAAAAAAC-U/QtogNhxo5uQb2wdgQGjHdM8rS4ua1fwEQCEwYBhgL/s1600/Here%2527sWhat%2527s.png" title="here is what is going on" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I think at this point we are all pretty clear on the fact that I share a lot of my life, and my self, on the internet.</div><br />
Obviously, there are moments in my life that won't ever be on the internet, and a lot those have to do with my heart. Really, protecting my heart.<br />
<br />
So when I think about where I'm at right now, and where my heart is at right now, I'm struggling.<br />
<br />
Because part of me wants to share it. Part of me wants to talk about feeling so less-than, and inadequate, and unloveable, and scared, and lonely.<br />
<br />
And part of me is recognizing that there might be a threshold here that I'm not ready to cross again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ShVKXtcbm0/WuiO0EGkECI/AAAAAAAAC8g/vRljZoCk2tQcSwcdOg2uFpDPd7Pil5R6wCLcBGAs/s1600/JPEG%2Bimage-B1CADD9E202C-9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ShVKXtcbm0/WuiO0EGkECI/AAAAAAAAC8g/vRljZoCk2tQcSwcdOg2uFpDPd7Pil5R6wCLcBGAs/s640/JPEG%2Bimage-B1CADD9E202C-9.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
I've shared a lot of my heart already. I think - and I hope - I've done so in a way that says <i>this is my side of the story</i>. Because it is important to me to be aware that not every story is wholly mine, and so it is not wholly mine to share.<br />
<br />
But I'm at a point where this burning in my heart is just, <i>so damn painful.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> I know that that's vague, and maybe not super helpful in this context.<br />
<br />
So I think my point is that I know I'm holding back. I know there's a large part of this story that you all aren't getting right now. And it is causing...a few things.<br />
<br />
//<br />
<br />
First of all, it is making me feel like I can't say a lot about this pain.<br />
<br />
I<i> </i>don't <i>want</i> to be vague and annoying. I want to be clear about what hurts, and why. I know that that is when I'm actually able to connect with y'all. And that is when I am able to keep building these bizarre and magnificent internet friendships.<br />
<br />
It is when I am clear about my pain, and my triumphs, and<i> - this phrase doesn't thrill me but</i> - my truth, that I feel like I'm actually doing more than just spilling my guts on the internet.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rP7GMglQzQ4/WuiPRldj2EI/AAAAAAAAC8o/-kf7lS57mYMzHQv3qbPliW8ZUh_tpFWJwCLcBGAs/s1600/FFEAC14F-FD98-4833-9B3A-D0729FB47869.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rP7GMglQzQ4/WuiPRldj2EI/AAAAAAAAC8o/-kf7lS57mYMzHQv3qbPliW8ZUh_tpFWJwCLcBGAs/s640/FFEAC14F-FD98-4833-9B3A-D0729FB47869.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
But it is also making me feel really distant.<br />
<br />
I know if I'm not willing to be vague and annoying, and I'm not ready, or able, to be totally clear...then there is a discrepancy between who I am online, and who I am right here in, you know, real life.<br />
<br />
I don't want that. I don't want to feel like a whole piece of who I am right now is floating silently in the background of everything I say.<br />
<br />
The sad reality is that I already often feel really separated from parts of my life.<br />
<br />
Especially in the head space that I'm in these days - connections are already difficult, engaging in my life is already difficult. I spend the better part of each day forcing myself to work on staying engaged, and staying out of my own head, and not focusing on my own pain.<br />
<br />
So ideally that doesn't carryover. Ideally, if I'm feeling like I <i>want</i> to connect with other people, and I like I <i>want </i>to share my life, I don't want to feel like there is a wall there too.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IgdIluwGyx4/WuiQj-KVx2I/AAAAAAAAC80/YFyzBf6UrzUF83HoUEmp6pM5ROLbUQWmwCLcBGAs/s1600/giphy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="208" data-original-width="400" height="207" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IgdIluwGyx4/WuiQj-KVx2I/AAAAAAAAC80/YFyzBf6UrzUF83HoUEmp6pM5ROLbUQWmwCLcBGAs/s400/giphy.gif" width="400" /></a></div><br />
The other thing is that holding back, and this separation between life, and what I'm sharing about my life - it isn't serving me.<br />
<br />
And I don't mean to say that my pain should always serve me, because I don't necessarily believe that. And I don't mean to say that I only use my space on the internet to serve me, because I think it's actually the opposite.<br />
<br />
But, I am not helping myself - and I am not serving my own sense of healing, or closure, or anything - if I am not allowing all the parts to get the same kind of exposure.<br />
<br />
It is like failing to turn a plant, and wondering why the 40% of the plant that is not getting any light isn't thriving.<br />
<br />
I'm not giving it light, and I am sure as hell not thriving.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8za2-7aEZw0/WuiRIcbTqnI/AAAAAAAAC88/pAnMnpS2K54WX449hMl4jX22V5SbDjUDQCLcBGAs/s1600/1*s8Zpz_XJAwf1oDZWZT6AzQ.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="271" data-original-width="500" height="216" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8za2-7aEZw0/WuiRIcbTqnI/AAAAAAAAC88/pAnMnpS2K54WX449hMl4jX22V5SbDjUDQCLcBGAs/s400/1*s8Zpz_XJAwf1oDZWZT6AzQ.gif" width="400" /></a></div><br />
So, I don't know yet how to shed light on this without cracking open the cover on a couple stories that I don't think are ready to be shared.<br />
<br />
I don't know how to share those parts of my heart.<br />
<br />
I <i>do know</i> that they are soaked in pain, and hurt, and worry, and feeling like it will never be enough.<br />
<br />
And I don't know how to tell those stories without sounding like I'm being too dramatic, or throwing someone under the bus, or diminishing the layers of how the stories came together, or devaluing the parts that are truly important, or glorifying the details that are, albeit juicier, but irrelevant.<br />
<br />
So, here we are.<br />
<br />
There are pieces of me I don't know how to share with you.<br />
<br />
And I know that it's keeping a wall up. And I know that it isn't helping me. And I know it's not making it easier to be...where I am. And I don't know if that's going to change, because the reality is, the stories aren't going to.<br />
<br />
So thank you, for handling my vagueness. And sticking with me anyways. And supporting me anyways. And reaching out anyways. <br />
<br />
And in an effort to be more transparent, here's a lil nugget for you:<br />
<br />
I got Bumble last night.<br />
<br />
For all of four hours.<br />
<br />
And I hated it.<br />
<br />
<i>Well, not wholly true.</i> I really loved the BFF function. But I could not handle the horrendous dating side of it, so I deleted my account. Already.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wc9TWHJA6cI/WuiUU3FwrHI/AAAAAAAAC9I/q1ve-NlExTsw7gqTsbrY7KrPBH-stk1gQCLcBGAs/s1600/JPEG%2Bimage-B1CADD9E202C-18.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wc9TWHJA6cI/WuiUU3FwrHI/AAAAAAAAC9I/q1ve-NlExTsw7gqTsbrY7KrPBH-stk1gQCLcBGAs/s640/JPEG%2Bimage-B1CADD9E202C-18.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-78814615007907128382018-04-24T07:00:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:35.356-04:004 Ways Through Anxiety: Birthday Edition <div class="separator" style="display: none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4fjPVxzFyy8/WvBpvwPtnyI/AAAAAAAAC-I/igKsNNRJmb4FtNIQ1vKKiZdM3PSSLZy_gCLcBGAs/s1600/boat%2Bcruises.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="four tips to move through your birthday fears" border="0" data-original-height="1102" data-original-width="735" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4fjPVxzFyy8/WvBpvwPtnyI/AAAAAAAAC-I/igKsNNRJmb4FtNIQ1vKKiZdM3PSSLZy_gCLcBGAs/s1600/boat%2Bcruises.png" title="birthday anxiety" /></a></div>It's a month before my birthday, and I'm nervous.<br />
<br />
Is that weird, to be worried about celebrating at 26?<br />
<br />
Probably, right?<br />
<br />
It isn't that I'm worried about turning 26. Because, I don't know, I guess I don't really care about that part. But I'm just worried that this year is going be...hard.<br />
<br />
I mean, you guys remember last year. What a day. It was magical, if you want to know the truth. I was <i>really</i> excited to be 25. And I was even more excited because I felt like I had so much to celebrate. I was so happy. And I had so many people in my life that I wanted to be happy with, on my birthday.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VIZ5UbArekQ/Wt-sju3aNCI/AAAAAAAAC7c/fJd6HqgRIwIPMMxYGzIp10kMm654EFicACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_9901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VIZ5UbArekQ/Wt-sju3aNCI/AAAAAAAAC7c/fJd6HqgRIwIPMMxYGzIp10kMm654EFicACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_9901.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br />
This year is different, of course.<br />
<br />
I think it's obvious -<i> but I'll say it anyways </i>- it isn't that I don't have people in my life now. Really, that's not the case. There are many wonderful people in my life that - every day - make me happy.<br />
<br />
But they are spread around in my life. And I think - maybe as childish as it sounds - that this is really about being let down. That, maybe, this is really about being worried that all the black clouds that hang out in my life day-to-day will be there on my birthday.<br />
<br />
So that thing that they say about depression, <i>loss of interest in your life</i> that's true, we know that. I think you can see that is true for me from time to time. But do you ever hear how anxiety gives you <i>fear of disappointment in your life?</i><br />
<br />
Because I get that one all the time.<br />
<br />
<i>What if it's not a good run?</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>What if my birthday is just me, by myself?</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>What if I can't buy a house in my 30s? </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>What if I am always alone?</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> Honestly, I could go on.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g9qiIq3XzMA/Wt-s5vV5J-I/AAAAAAAAC7k/w6us0QqUkWA-er1_n6ANkAzX9OI0znDLACLcBGAs/s1600/giphy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="282" data-original-width="500" height="225" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g9qiIq3XzMA/Wt-s5vV5J-I/AAAAAAAAC7k/w6us0QqUkWA-er1_n6ANkAzX9OI0znDLACLcBGAs/s400/giphy.gif" width="400" /></a></div><br />
But the reality is that sometimes there is a fear that pulses through me, and it is literally just about living my life.<br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>Yes, that's more anxiety than anything else. Of course. The sense of dread and fear that I feel just about leaving my house sometimes, let alone celebrating, that is anxiety.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> So how do you cope, right? Because the birthday is gonna come. And the reality is that it could be me, the dog, and some Moe's. And we all know that I am the type of person that would let that get to me.<br />
<br />
<i>1. Well, make a better plan.</i><br />
<br />
When it comes to anxiety, my number one solution is always to make a better plan. Because my anxiety likes to poke holes, in everything. So it's my job to fill the holes before they open.<br />
<br />
If that means I'm gonna bake myself a dang cake, so be it. I'll buy the cake mix. If that means I'm gonna go for a long run, great, I'll make plans for Peeks. If that means I need to plan breakfast, working hours, lunch, and dinner, then I'll do it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CRqfgObm4BA/Wt-tIe8bzVI/AAAAAAAAC7o/fc1lbh3ost80YThD42SwOeDuIjvlWq6UQCLcBGAs/s1600/j3aoHuf.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="230" data-original-width="500" height="182" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CRqfgObm4BA/Wt-tIe8bzVI/AAAAAAAAC7o/fc1lbh3ost80YThD42SwOeDuIjvlWq6UQCLcBGAs/s400/j3aoHuf.gif" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<i>2. Also, stay away from things that make it hard to be happy.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> Seems simple enough, but again, gotta work it into the plan.<br />
<br />
So for me? That means not feeling guilt about food, and not worrying about making <i>other</i> people feel validated on my day (<i>side note: should we talk about emotional labor? As an empath I'm constantly working on knowing when to shut my emotional faucet OFF, but... God. Tanget. Sorry.</i>)<br />
<br />
I'm gonna stay away from the notion of <i>have tos</i> and <i>shoulds</i> and <i>must-hit milestones. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RmjlJZ5MdIc/Wt-th92euWI/AAAAAAAAC74/sahPEtR19Q4vQCvV-7MMKQhHB3UxA8hwACLcBGAs/s1600/giphy-1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="270" data-original-width="480" height="225" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RmjlJZ5MdIc/Wt-th92euWI/AAAAAAAAC74/sahPEtR19Q4vQCvV-7MMKQhHB3UxA8hwACLcBGAs/s400/giphy-1.gif" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<i>3. While you're at it, have an escape route. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> If I have to get the hell out of dodge - which often happens with me and my anxiety. I need to know I can, and how. Usually, that just means an hour of driving around in the car. But sometimes it is four days of seclusion in my parent's empty house.<br />
<br />
Either way, you gotta have a way "out," that works for you. A way to find your off switch.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yT2CXGhoZ4Y/Wt-t5DWhptI/AAAAAAAAC8A/wuOHaDCRnekO1_IHC3lCrHNy35v92O2LACLcBGAs/s1600/ubXa6Jt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="404" data-original-width="720" height="223" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yT2CXGhoZ4Y/Wt-t5DWhptI/AAAAAAAAC8A/wuOHaDCRnekO1_IHC3lCrHNy35v92O2LACLcBGAs/s400/ubXa6Jt.gif" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<i>4. If you're going to feel left out, it's on you to find a way...in</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> FOMO is real. And FOMO with anxiety is...kind of <i>insanely persistent</i>?<br />
<br />
Especially when it comes to big events or to-dos I think it's consistently important to remind myself that I cannot feel bad about feeling left out, if I'm not going to make an effort to be let in.<br />
<br />
This works for just about everything. But essentially, if I want to be with people, I know that I have to make that effort. And frankly, that it is going to take a lot of effort. Because 9 times out of 10 it is really easy to let me, convince me, to stay home...in bed. Alone.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QWbzvy18f_M/Wt-ujK7xOaI/AAAAAAAAC8M/VV131a4cpgscqcg0BZXvYyVIjZCIL1SAACLcBGAs/s1600/qHVzVs.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="210" data-original-width="500" height="167" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QWbzvy18f_M/Wt-ujK7xOaI/AAAAAAAAC8M/VV131a4cpgscqcg0BZXvYyVIjZCIL1SAACLcBGAs/s400/qHVzVs.gif" width="400" /></a></div><br />
And that's it.<br />
<br />
That's my plan.<br />
<br />
I mean, we are <i>a month out.</i> I have time to make a plan, and get my act together, and stop being so stupidly scared of a date on a calendar.<br />
<br />
So here's to recognizing anxieties as they come? And not acting like I can't just wish it away? Because a girl with a plan is unstoppable? Or something like that?<br />
<i><br />
</i> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j7Tgeq6YiSI/Wt-uo8R2wWI/AAAAAAAAC8Q/-X71tovm66EuJDBDOBVLAdLjD2zFeJtswCLcBGAs/s1600/JPEG%2Bimage-B1CADD9E202C-14.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j7Tgeq6YiSI/Wt-uo8R2wWI/AAAAAAAAC8Q/-X71tovm66EuJDBDOBVLAdLjD2zFeJtswCLcBGAs/s640/JPEG%2Bimage-B1CADD9E202C-14.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><i><br />
</i>Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431548541936517233.post-70893210480805969722018-04-20T22:00:00.000-04:002020-07-16T14:14:35.037-04:00Real World: Recovery <div class="separator" style="display: none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mCW8pyAkjmw/WvBl1ivC1kI/AAAAAAAAC98/d3Qdf0AytNAbkHo4uxSUp1nEgf2BPOHhQCLcBGAs/s1600/Real%2BWorld.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="disordered eating disorder recovery real world" border="0" data-original-height="1102" data-original-width="735" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mCW8pyAkjmw/WvBl1ivC1kI/AAAAAAAAC98/d3Qdf0AytNAbkHo4uxSUp1nEgf2BPOHhQCLcBGAs/s1600/Real%2BWorld.png" title="" /></a></div>I don't talk too much about my experiences with disordered eating. For some reason, they are still inherently private to me.<br />
<br />
In general, I guess that isn't surprising. I think it's just when it comes to me, as someone who shares a lot of herself and her dark spots with the internet, it is a little surprising.<br />
<br />
It's not that I'm entirely opposed to sharing it with y'all.<br />
<br />
But I do think that I struggle more with the stigma of an ED, than the stigma of depression, or anxiety. A lot of that, I know, has to do with having far more years of depression under my belt.<br />
<br />
Frankly, I also think that most of the really a-typical stereotypes that follow people who have depression don't consistently bother me (<i>day-to-day. Obviously they bother me on an intellectual level. They should bother you too, honestly.</i>)<br />
<br />
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I like to believe that is because I surround myself with people who are educated enough to understand that a breakup didn't <i>make me</i> depressed. And educated enough to know that things like shopping, working out, eating well, and baths are also not going to be the things that <i>cure</i> <i>me</i>.<br />
<br />
But, EDs are different right now.<br />
<br />
The stigma is skewed, because the understanding is skewed. I do really think that now, more than ever, you have to <i>look sick,</i> to "be" sick. Now, more than ever, the validity and pervasiveness of EDs are being overlooked.<br />
<br />
Because disordered eating is normalized, diet culture is mainstream in 100 different ways every day, "fitspo" and "thinspo" are now interchangeable, drinking your meals is "healthy," and because I keep hearing "cheats/treats/guilty pleasures." The list goes on and on.<br />
<br />
<i>And I'll be totally transparent - that shit makes me want to shut the heck up on tough days.</i><br />
<br />
Look, it's not like I haven't bought into some of this. I know dang well that when I have prepped for pageants, I have <i>sprinted</i> down that slippery slope.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tHCSKRGFQb8/WtqdQI5QYfI/AAAAAAAAC6o/UuFKMIhEBZQG3G9z6P3hdh-hQOUfjEF-QCLcBGAs/s1600/guilty-gif-1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="161" data-original-width="343" height="187" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tHCSKRGFQb8/WtqdQI5QYfI/AAAAAAAAC6o/UuFKMIhEBZQG3G9z6P3hdh-hQOUfjEF-QCLcBGAs/s400/guilty-gif-1.gif" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Admittedly, it is really hard to see how you can be contributing to an unhealthy narrative when you truly believe that your behavior is otherwise healthy and acceptable.<br />
<br />
Should I have done Whole30? Nope.<br />
<br />
Should I be telling people how to carb cycle? Honestly, no.<br />
<br />
Should I be counting macros and calories and whatever hell else? Right now, no.<br />
<br />
I understand that there's a time and a place for "prep behavior." But that line is so thin, and so many people do not know it. Sometimes, even I didn't.<br />
<br />
That alone means I've contributed to the culture that devalues an ED diagnosis. That alone means that I've taken <i>my own experience </i>and brushed it off in a manner that honestly, is a little disgusting at this point.<br />
<br />
So, to say that I have a hard time talking about it...all of this? That's why.<br />
<br />
//<br />
<br />
That, and I still have hard days.<br />
<br />
Really hard days.<br />
<br />
Honestly? This week, I had two.<br />
<br />
Which is rare, admittedly. But it stung. And it was <i>hard.</i> I wanted so so badly to give into the notion that <i>I can't eat that, </i>and that <i>I don't deserve that</i>, maybe worst yet that <i>I haven't earned that.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> If you're confused: there are no such thing as "no" foods, there are no such things as foods that need to be deserved, or earned. You don't have to do X to get Y here. Food is food.<br />
<br />
And some days, I spend a whole day telling myself, <i>you can eat that, it's okay. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> And some days, I cry in Healthy Living because the pressure is literally too much. And I pick up bread and put it back <i>twice.</i> And I worry that the girl at the check out judges my single piece of chocolate. And I spend the entire time there worried, and anxious, and aware, and scared.<br />
<br />
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That's real.<br />
<br />
<i>That's also why we have therapy, so like, please keep your head on your shoulders too here. I have coping mechanisms. I do eat. But I struggle too.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> So, I don't talk about this much.<br />
<br />
Because even right now, I'm writing this and thinking that y'all are going to try to jump down my throat here. That somehow I'm not someone who's allowed to be in recovery here. Because, it doesn't look like it. Because I have a lil tummy squish.<br />
<br />
It's hard to share that sometimes the most basic form of human sustenance sometimes sends my anxiety through the roof.<br />
<br />
It's hard to say that sometimes I have to go through the truths, one by one.<br />
<br />
<i>Food is nourishment. Your body is healthy. What you eat is dictated by </i>no one.<i> And your anxiety doesn't control you here, not again. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <br />
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That's hard.<br />
<br />
Especially when the culture right now is all workout fads, and new diets, and calling consistent food restricting a "lifestyle," and acting like "cheats" are normal, and like eating <i>isn't </i>inherently tied to emotion, and like we have to somehow throw all of our stock into fitness and health and well-being to matter right now in this arena.<br />
<br />
That's ridiculous.<br />
<br />
I walked away from the notion that I have to workout with any rules. No specific number of times a week. No specific days. No specific length.<br />
<br />
Do I like it? Oh hell yes.<br />
<br />
But I don't like the thought that those things are tied to food intake.<br />
<br />
I walked away from the notion that I needed to "eat healthy." Eating healthy is just eating. It's just eating when your body is hungry. It's just listening to what your body wants and needs.<br />
<br />
Do I still eat salads and not (always) a lot pizza? Of course.<br />
<i><br />
</i> But all of that? I want to stop feeling like I have to justify it. I want to stop feeling like this is a kind of recovery that has to be hidden because it's harder to explain.<br />
<br />
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This week was <i>hard.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> That doesn't mean it was a wash. It just means that it was two long days of remembering what <i>I do </i>put my stock into. And where <i>I do</i> have value, and worthiness, and strength. And <i>how</i> I am able to get through these days, whenever they happen.<br />
<br />
'Cause they are gonna happen.<br />
<br />
And I will probably keep talking about it.<br />
<br />
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Rylee Fieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15413699535936341008noreply@blogger.com0