Sorry about that. I could say that things will change, but they probably won’t. I will probably continue to suck at blogging.
But today I am social media free – I have made the commitment to do this once a week and switch off at 9 each night.
Now I have done some crazy scary stuff since I began this journey, but this one has my heart rate higher than it has ever been.
It’s kind of a competition thing with the other person involved and there is no way that she is going to win. So I’ll do it.
Not that I’m competitive.
So writing this (obviously not publishing it till tomorrow) but writing this is my way of dealing with day 1. This way I still get to narrate my life. Because let’s face it, that’s what social media allows us to do – we tell our story rather than just be our story.
But here’s the thing, I’m ready to be the story of Cathy Sheargold.
Not the story where I drop a heap of weight and I am the ex-fat girl, the ‘wow, it’s so amazing you lost all that weight’ girl or the ‘do you have much loose skin’ girl or the “what’s your secret’ girl.
I am ready for the story of me.
It’s shaping up to be a pretty good read. Might even be a best seller.
It all brings me back to the many references to home. Did ya notice that? It’s kinda been a theme of mine.
and I think I have.
I think I am actually home.
I have collected these incredible, amazing, inspiring, passionate, kooky people into my life, who have taught me so very much about myself and the world and…. I dunno, number 42.
The 12WBT has given me a safe place to practice being me and not shrinking away from who I am meant to be.
I really wish they would get rid of the B, come to think of it the 12W should go too.
I am being drawn back to old passions that I had let myself forget, music and theatre and great literature and art and… stuff.
I am dreaming and planning and being unapologetic for wanting a big life. All this is wrapped up in a feeling of calm.
This is what home feels like.
This morning I danced around in my underwear in the living room and sang very very very loudly because I am so excited about my life.
Just over a year ago it was very different.
So different that I find it hard to completely remember who I was being then.
I say who I was being because I certainly wasn’t being me, I wasn’t home then.
I thought that coming home would mean that I would approach my life with certainty, that I would walk around knowing exactly who I am, but that’s not it at all. I look at life and say “let’s see if this is who I am”.