Why I Wear Lipstick at the Gym

You know one of the annoying things about being a woman? Hormonal fluctuations. We’re a constant roller coaster of estrogen with water retention, bloating, cramps, and like 2 weeks out of the month of looking in the mirror and thinking “Damn! I look good!” Then with the fluctuations we have days that we just don’t like or recognize our reflections. So maybe we bundle up to hide our bodies even though they are still incredibly beautiful, the hormone goggles just don’t let us see that.

And then we muster up the strength and willpower to take our fatigued bloated crampy bodies to the gym. And no one gives us a tiara and chocolate just for showing up. Seriously WTF? Not feeling physically the greatest, mentally the greatest, we still show up and begrudgingly get the job done and leave feeling an odd mixture of a little proud that we showed up and a little disappointed that we just could not push ourselves a little harder.

That’s a mental block. I don’t feel good, I don’t feel I look good, I don’t feel like my workout will be good. Confidence – lost.

But those 2 weeks of normal energy, no bloating or cramps, not feeling like a water balloon – we walk in the gym and OWN SH*T! We have the “can do” attitude and we kick our own asses. We reach for heavier weights, we trust our bodies and our abilities. But why? It’s the confidence we feel. That inner “good” feeling of being comfortable with how we look and we let that feeling drive us.

And on those not-so-hot days, I MAKE myself find that “feel good” attitude. When I show up to the gym with my custom Nikes matching my capris, my capris matching my tank top, my tank top matching my head band, my hair in a “I just threw my hair up in a messy bun to make it look cutely effortless even though it took me 10 frickin minutes to get it just right” polished off with lipstick and mascara – know that I’m there to do some WORK! I’ll take the time to look good, so that I feel good, I feel confident and I’ll be STRONG. My pink-pouted self will grunt through my sweaty workout, wipe down the equipment, rerack my weights (and yours you lazy bum) and will walk out of the gym knowing that I gave it everything I had – breathing hard through my perfectly painted lips.

An Uncomfortable Reality

A lot of people don’t understand the crazy emotional struggle involved in binge eating and food addiction.  And yes - they’re very real.  It’s not about hunger or cravings, it’s about a complete and utter loss of power.  It’s an abusive relationship with food. With binge eating being something I struggled with personally for a few years, as well as being something I have helped numerous clients deal with – I felt compelled to write a little something.  Especially after speaking with a client today and hearing some of the words she used. I felt it in my very soul and felt I need to give people an uncomfortable window into that reality.  So here goes…

You took control over me. I rolled over and LET you have your way with me.  You didn’t take power from me, I opened my damn hands and gave it to you on a silver platter.  I let you dominate, humiliate, obliterate my entire being.

For hours.

And then rest.

And then for a few hours more.

So how was it that you are the one with all the power - the power that I gave you - and all I’m left with is guilt?  And today I’ll continue verbally bashing myself, and tomorrow will be more of the same.  I’ll hide myself from the world, embarrassed to even see the light of day.  I’ll stare myself down in the mirror and over-analyze every little piece of me.  And I’ll hate it all.  And I'll find a way to punish myself for letting it happen when I swore it would end after the last time. And the worst part is, that guilt that I feel now only guarantees that all this WILL happen again.  I haven’t learned how to hold my head high, to stand up, take back my integrity, and make sure you never overpower me again.  Maybe I don’t want to learn that.  I guess I oddly take comfort in being your victim, and that’s why the help I am offered falls on deaf ears.  I can’t see myself ever getting better, and on some level I suppose I don’t feel I deserve to be better.   I don’t want to face the reality of what my relationship with you really is.  Toxic.

And all you are – is food.