Hi, Hello, my name is Miquela and I am not an addict.

Good morning sunshine!

I want to talk addiction.

I have been surrounded by "addicts" my whole life. My best friend was an addict, my ex husband was an addict, I was even an addict for a little while. I've visited people in jail and rehab more times than I can count. I have watched someone I love dearly go through heroin withdrawals, begging and pleading to just do a little more so they wouldn't be so sick. I watched someone come into my home, overdosing on heroin. I have watched someone I thought I knew, turn into someone I wanted nothing to do with. 

Whenever I go to a family group meeting to support someone I love, it's similar to an NA or AA meeting. When the meeting starts, everyone goes around and introduces themselves one by one, which usually consists of "Hi, I'm so and so, and I am an addict".  Every time I hear someone place that label on themselves makes me cringe! Let me tell you what the definition of an addict is: 

ad·dict

/ˈadikt/

noun; a person who is addicted to a particular substance, typically an illegal drug.

Here is what I want to say when I go to one of these meetings, but have never been able to muster up the courage to do so. In fact, I would love to say it to the world.

Hello, my name is Miquela, and I am NOT an addict, and neither are any of you. 

You are divine beings who picked up a drug, gave your power to that drug, and when your world came crashing down, you surrendered. You made a choice to stop giving that drug your power. We all have a higher power guiding us, and helping us navigate this world. You finally listened to that higher power and stopped using drugs. 

When you made that choice to surrender and give up the deceiving drug that was destroying not only your health, but your life, you no longer carry the label of an addict because you are no longer addicted to anything, make sense? When you get clean and sober off of drugs and alcohol, you are no longer an addict. When you place that label on yourself for the rest of your life, that immediately sets you up to fail,  and eventually relapse. Because what is the number one thing addicts will most likely do in their life? RELAPSE. Why? Because they're an addict, right? Having this label is a way to justify certain actions and behaviors for the rest of your life. Like relapsing. Oh I relapsed, It's because I'm an addict. What? No. You relapsed because you made the choice to relapse. When you're dealing with someone who is going through an addiction, they develop certain behaviors. When they get clean, those behaviors don't just disappear. They have to work on them every single day. Behaviors are basically habits and unfortunately, when a drug has power over you, those habits you have developed are not healthy habits to carry out into the real world. Especially when you're trying to live an honest, healthy, and fulfilling life. When someone smokes cigarettes, they label themselves as a smoker. But when they quit smoking, they are no longer a smoker. When someone runs every single day, they are a runner. But when they quit running, they are no longer a runner. Being an addict is more of an action than a noun. I have this theory that rehabs have created this label for people who are struggling to stay clean, in hopes that they continue to come back. WIthout "addicts" there are no rehabs. I know there are thousands of people out there who claim to be addicts and are in recovery that will totally disagree with my outlook on this. I will respectfully look at anyone and say "you are not an addict, you are you". Your past choices of using drugs does not define who you are today. 

Let me share my story.

In 2010 I tried my first drug. Ecstasy. I was 18 years old. The months following that I dabbled in other drugs, alcohol, and weed on occasion on the weekends. Cocaine, meth, some more ecstasy. It was all so new to me and it didn't become much of a problem yet. There were 3 people very near and dear to me where it was becoming a problem. I didn't realize the seriousness of it until I learned that 2 of them were shooting up heroin and the other one was consistently shooting up meth. They were no longer doing it in a social setting. It was everyday. All day long. They were in the thick of their addiction and it was slowly taking away who I remember them to be as a person. There was a darkness in their eyes and the spider web of lies I was being told was massive. 

I started hair school in the beginning of 2010, a few months before I tried my first drug. I had goals and was working on bettering my life and building a career. The friends I met at school were similar to my new friends that I tried ecstasy with. We were always taking breaks at school to go smoke some weed. Eventually I wasn't taking hair school very seriously and dropped out. I then got married in October 2010. I was only 19 and the drug use didn't stop. For me, it was still social. I lived a fairly healthy life outside of the weekend partying. I still ran every morning and focused on eating nutritious food, and was working full time at a frozen yogurt shop.  I thought I was living the life. 

I became pregnant in March of 2019. The day of my sweet grandma's funeral was the day I took a test. It was also the same day I woke up and snorted a line of cocaine that was leftover from the weekend. When that little stick showed a plus sign, my whole world changed. I immediately flushed the drugs and started googling everything about pregnancy. I was scared shitless but excited for a new chapter in my life. By the following week I was in to see a doctor to  confirm the fact that I was pregnant. The ultrasound screen showed a little tiny thing that looked like a gummy bear and the size of it meant I was about 9 weeks pregnant. I even nicknamed it gummy bear ;). The excitement to become a mother was unreal. I had another doctor's appointment scheduled 4 weeks out. I was 13 weeks pregnant by that time and ready to see my growing gummy bear on the screen. We began by using the little tool that listens for the heartbeat. After a few minutes of silence and watching the nurse with a questionable look on her face, she finally said she would be right back and that she had to go get the doctor. I felt a rush of worry fill my body but was trying to remain calm and positive. Doc came in and said don't worry, sometimes when you're not too far along, it can be difficult to find the heartbeat. We went into the next room to use the ultrasound machine so we could get a visual of my gummy bear. After a few moments of silence the doctor confirmed that the little beating heart was no longer beating. It was an immediate feeling of loss that I didn't know I would ever feel. That feeling quickly turned into guilt and shame. I was told that there was no real cause behind it, but I was convinced it was because of all of my stupid choices using drugs. 

I went home that day feeling empty, lost, and broken. I cried myself to sleep more nights than I can count, and I woke up starting my days with tear filled eyes. After some time had passed and I got back into my normal days of going to work without a baby on my brain, things started to settle down. The drug use however, slowly picked back up. Adderall became a favorite for the amount of hours I was working every day. I never took more than a pill a day so I thought I was totally good, regardless of the fact that I was buying it on the streets. On the weekends, we always turned to something a little more extreme. Like I said before, it was either meth or cocaine. Sometimes ecstasy. Whenever we would ask "what are we doing this weekend?" We were usually referring to what drug are we going to get high on this weekend? 

When I started taking a step back and looking at our life I noticed that it was always a battle to stay on top of our bills. Gee I wonder why? Drugs are fucking expensive. Fun fact: I was never the one to go and get the drugs. I was never involved in the run around or the communication. I was the good little housewife who stayed home and waited for them to be brought to me. I remember one specific day, the morning after smoking meth all weekend long. I got up to go to work and felt so low. I was depressed, angry, and pissed off that I was working where I was. I felt pathetic and stuck in rut. My life should be going somewhere. I went home and talked to my husband about how I was feeling and he told me that it was from the drugs and it will pass. What goes up, must come down. And boy was I down. He was right, it did pass and I started to feel normal again. I also made the decision to never touch meth again because of how low it made me feel. I never wanted to feel like that again. I continued to drink and smoke weed and live my life as I always had and life went on. 

In November 2011 I learned I was pregnant again. I was terrified of going through another loss so I did everything in my power to make sure I was healthy. I quickly learned that my partner was not on the same page and continued using. Not in front of me, but I always knew. The kind of people that you deal with in that world are awful, and they were always coming by the house. We never had any money so I was always a total stress case, even more now that I was carrying a child. How was I going to bring a baby into the world if we can't afford even the basics? We ended up having to move out of our apartment when I was 8 months pregnant. I found us a cute little cottage like home and made it feel like home just in time for our sweet daughter to be born. I'm convinced that because of all of my stress she came 3 weeks early. Thankfully she was healthy and strong. 

As time went on, and the stress of adulting and being responsible kept building up, my husband and I soon split up. I couldn't keep living the way we used to live now that we had a daughter, it was too unstable. My daughter and I moved in with my parents and I began working again...and drinking. I was a mess. I was full of hate and resentment toward my husband and I acted out. My new job was at a golf course, serving drinks. That meant I knew right where the alcohol closet was. My boss was a degrading piece of shit and didn't care if I was drunk at work. As long as my titties were showing and I was earning tips, he was cool with it. The attention from men that I received was something I wasn't used to when I was younger. I soaked it all up like a sponge. I dated several guys during this time, drank a shit ton of alcohol, and had no fucking clue what I was doing with my life. 6 months of trying to be a single mom, juggle work, and keep track of all my boy toys was a lot to carry! I clearly wasn't over my husband, and I was so mad at him that I drank to make me feel happy. We eventually got back together because we have a daughter together and I was somehow convinced that things were going to change. I was told that the drugs were no longer in the picture and the income was steady. 

We moved into a little townhome and things started out pretty smooth. I finally felt content again. Life was good and I was grateful to have some financial help so I could focus more on being a mother. On the day of our wedding anniversary we got a sitter and got all dolled up so we could go out. Of course I had a few drinks and the conversation was flowing. On the drive home I looked at my husbands arm and noticed a track mark. I was a little shocked, then upset at first when I noticed it, but then the curiosity hit me. I looked at him and asked what it was. Obviously I knew what it was, but I didn't know he was an IV user and I wanted confirmation. He was honest with me and I asked him why. What is so great about this drug that you can't stop? Is it really that good? Maybe I should try it... All it took was a phone call, and a few minutes  before we even got home there was a little baggy hiding up on the wheel well in his work truck. He even had two little syringes. He had been using this shit the whole time. It never stopped. With a little alcohol in me, I didn't even question that part. I was just happy to be back together and not fighting. I was truly trying to understand WHY this time. Maybe if I experience it just this one time, I will be able to understand him. I couldn't believe what I was doing, and I couldn't do it myself. He had to do it for me. I couldn't even watch while he did it. As I turned my head I felt this huge rush take over my whole body. It was euphoric and I felt so alive. Whoa. 

Every day after that I found myself wanting more and more. Constantly chasing that rush and that high. Like I mentioned before, I never did the runaround. I was at home with our daughter and I took care of the house.  I still functioned like a normal human, I was just high on dope so I was REALLY awake. All the time. I forced myself to eat and sleep because I didn't want anyone to know what I was really putting into my body. I was determined to not become the typical tweaker that we all know. Deep down I was ashamed, but I felt so good I made it up in my mind that I can still get high and be a good person. It's just a drug. I'm not hurting anybody. I'm still here for my daughter 24/7 and we played all the time. I was a good mother. During this time I discovered my love for painting on canvas. When  you use dope, you tend to get overly obsessive with things, and my thing was painting. It's all I ever did and it's all I ever thought about. What's so bad about that, right? Let me tell you what started to happen though after a few months had gone by. The amount of weight I lost was grotesque, and my family started calling me out. I was a fat kid in high school, lost a lot of weight so I was pretty fit. When they saw me this time I was basically skin and bones. You could tell it  was unhealthy. My skin started breaking out with big sores on it, and my hair was really thin. My family continued asking me what was up and I hated it. I would get so mad at them for judging me by my appearance that I would stop going to family gatherings. It was easier to stay home and paint than it was to face my family who knew something was going on. I eventually would isolate myself so much that I wouldn't even go to the store because I was afraid people would look at me and know that I was high on dope. It got so bad that whenever I would take my daughter to the park, if there was people there, I would turn around and go look for a different park that was empty. It was like this drug that showed itself to be so great and euphoric, was quickly sucking the life and soul out of me. I was losing who I was as a person. I found myself feeling so depressed at times until I shot up again. It made no sense at the time. I didn't want to stop. I was a good mother! I can still get high and be a good person. 

Thanksgiving came around and it's tradition to get our whole entire family together and celebrate at my mom's. I came up with some lame excuse as to why we wouldn't be there so that I didn't have to face my "judgmental" family. My husband was gone the entire day doing god knows what, and my daughter and I stayed home and painted of course. I was completely crushed deep inside for missing Thanksgiving. I've always loved Thanksgiving, it's one of my favorite holidays. As long as I was high though, all was well and I could look passed it. 

When dealing with this kind of a drug often comes with some scary people. We had a lot of people come into our home that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. Some of them were so bad, that I felt like our lives were in danger. When someone stays up for days at a time, they tend to get a little crazy and think someone is out to get them. There were 2 different people who were convinced that my husband had stolen from them. The first time, one of them showed up with a taser demanding that we give him something of value. It may have just been a taser, but I was beyond scared. My daughter was in the house and I was beside myself. The second time someone thought we stole from him, he made several threats against me and in a roundabout way said to watch out and he'd be coming around sometime. I no longer felt safe in my own home. My husband stayed up all night one night with a shotgun in his hand while my daughter and I hid in the back room. The days following that I was always looking over my shoulder and was scared to go outside. 

After those two events, I started questioning my choices and mentioning that we needed to stop. It was time. But I didn't want to stop. I couldn't. Maybe we'll just cut back. 

When someone is in the thick of their addiction, responsibilities go out the window. We could never pay our bills on time, if at all. Our power got shut off in the middle of the winter, on a Friday, which meant it was going to be off all weekend. We were in a duplex so we snuck an extension cord over to our neighbors  exterior outlet so that we could at least have a space heater. I have never felt so pathetic in my life. I felt like a horrible mother. By the following Monday we managed to pawn enough stuff off to get the money to turn our power back on. A few months later we were constantly getting eviction notices on our door. I didn't understand why the "provider" of the house was working all the time but had nothing to show for it. All I wanted to do was be a stay at home mom and paint all day. Is that so much to ask!? After a whole year of living life this way we got our final eviction notice. Our landlords were tired of us never paying rent on time and they had enough. As we were preparing to pack up our house, I found out I was pregnant again. 

I remember standing in the shower one night feeling depressed and lost. I asked my higher power for some help and guidance and the first thing I heard was "Miquela, you have to stop living this way or you're going to lose your baby." So I did. It certainly wasn't easy. Trying to get off of meth after using it everyday, all day long for over a year, on top of being pregnant was a daily battle. Especially when the people around me were still using. I was beyond exhausted and there were moments in the day where I would crash. We were in the middle of packing and moving and I could barely get up. I remember sleeping for hours on the floor in our empty townhome trying to gain just an ounce of energy.  We didn't know where we were going to live so once our house was packed up, we literally slept there on the floor trying to buy some time to figure out our next home, without a dollar in our pocket.  Eventually we were forced to leave. We ended up moving in with my parents which was the best thing we could have done, even though my spouse was completely against it. 

I was finally able to sleep restfully and focus on getting healthy. It was a relief being back at my parents house. No bills, no responsibilities, no more drugs and awful people coming to my home, it was just me and my daughter. I felt so much guilt and shame for being where I was in life, but I am beyond grateful that I was able to face my addiction and say no more. Becoming pregnant is what truly saved me. Who knows where I would be if I didn't. My daughter could have been taken from me, I could be in jail, or dead somewhere. Things could have been so much worse. Unfortunately, my marriage ended a few months after I gave birth to my second daughter. My spouse and I were on different paths. I was clean and sober and trying to better my life, and he was still stuck in his addiction. I have learned over the years that cutting out toxic people so that you can grow as an individual, is extremely necessary. Ending my marriage, and losing my best friend to addiction, was one of the hardest things I have ever gone through. It was also one of the biggest growing experiences of my life. I don't believe I would be who I am today, if I hadn't gone through all of that. 

Sometimes we have to surrender, and allow our higher power to take over and guide us in the direction that we're supposed to go. It's not always going to be easy, but it will always be worth it. You just have to be open, and listen.

I know there are hundreds of thousands of people who have gone through similar, and worse experiences as myself. I also know how many people are still struggling with their addiction. All it took for me was one time of losing everything, including myself. I was no longer the Miquela I knew myself to be and I hated that part. There has to be something that keeps you from going back, no matter what. If you have no reason to stay clean, you're not going to. I have watched people very close to me relapse after 3+ years of being clean because they couldn't find it within themselves to stay clean. No goals, no purpose, no self love. Not even losing your own kids was enough for some to stay clean.

 It truly lies within yourself to make that decision. Nothing outside of you can force you to do anything. I think that's the hardest part for most people is they are always looking for something outside of themselves to change the way they feel. Only you can decide. The power we have within ourselves often gets underestimated. Find what works for you. Many people discover that NA or AA meetings are their safe haven to help them stay clean. Working the 12 steps, having a sponsor, etc. I think that's great. I personally don't need those things to help me stay clean. My "escape" is exercise. The feeling of my body working hard, and doing things to make it stronger has become my new drug...so to speak. I have to move my body every day, not just to be strong physically, but emotionally and mentally as well. It allows me to take on the challenges life throws at me and deal with them in a healthier way. When I feel sad about something, I feel it, work through it, and move on. I don't go pick up a drink and get wasted anymore to try and mask those feelings. I've learned over the years that when you suppress your feelings, they just get piled up inside until you burst over something small. 

If you are struggling to get clean and/or sober, discover your "why". For me, my why was my kids. If i wanted to show up for my kids, I had to be in my right mind. Maybe try going to a meeting, work the 12 steps, start a new workout regimen. Try journaling, meditating, or being of service to someone in need. Whatever you do, just do it. Try something new, learn something new, read something new. Just do something DIFFERENT than what you normally do. One small change at a time will eventually build up to something huge. In my opinion, getting drunk or high becomes a habit. It's the routine and ritual that we get stuck in, and breaking a habit and changing a routine can be difficult at times. But not impossible. Keep yourself busy. You know what they say...busy hands are happy hands! :D 

Anybody can get clean and sober. Anybody can STAY clean and sober. Whether you identify as an addict or not, at the end of the day, it's still your choice. If you relapse, that was your choice. Not because you're an addict, but because you chose to pick it up again. Please for the love of God, take responsibility for your actions, and stop using the excuse "i'm an addict" for going back out. I genuinely believe that the label "addict" is just another excuse for someone to use to justify their shitty choices. Addiction is not a disease. It is a choice. I know addiction is real, but it is not a disease. 

Ok end of rant. When I look back at the time when I was going through my addiction, my heart breaks a little bit each time. The choices I was making were so against my true character. Despite the pain I caused though, I am grateful I went through that experience so that I could have a better understanding of those who are still going through it. Rather than sit back and judge, I can sit back and say "I see you, and I know what you're going through". I was listening to a book and it talked about compassion creates connection. I have never heard something more true. If we showed compassion towards those who are struggling, maybe this world wouldn't be such a scary place right now. I understand it's difficult to show compassion for those that are willingly suffering. It really is our choice to suffer, whether we believe it or not. 

We have the power to change our own world. I love the saying "change your thoughts, change your world".

 

If you can overcome an addiction, I believe you are strong enough to do anything you want to do in life. It takes a strong mind to stick to the decision of never touching another drug. 

It's not a DIET. It's a LIFESTYLE.

 Good morning!

Let me ask you something. When you hear the word "diet", what comes to your mind? For me, I immediately cringe, roll my eyes, and think of the word "temporary". Because that's exactly what a diet is. Have you ever seen anybody go on a diet, and eat that way the rest of their life? Not me. Diets are a FAD. And half of the time they aren't even good for you. Every person I have seen, including myself, go on a diet, either does really well, loses weight fast, goes off the diet and the weight comes right back. OR if you are anything like me, I only lasted about a week of being miserable and hungry. I have tried every diet out there, from KETO to HCG, starvation, meal replacement smoothies, yadda yadda yadda.

Nobody likes being told they can't have something, especially when it comes to food. 

When it comes to eating healthy, and living healthy for the rest of your life, you don't have to cut out junk food completely. It's called MODERATION. All things in moderation. With anything in life. I love the 80/20 rule. You can apply it to anything, especially food. 80% nutritious foods, 20%... not so nutritious. But let me tell you something, when you pair daily exercise with your new lifestyle of eating good foods that fuel your body, you crave the junk food less. I still eat ice cream here and there, or cookies when my Mama bakes them. Fries, chips, pizza..you get my drift. I just don't eat them all the time. One day of having some pizza, or a burger and fries is not going to throw you off track! I always got so frustrated when we would have family gatherings, and I couldn't eat whatever food was prepared because it went against my "diet". 

When I really started researching food, and what it does for the body, eating healthy became exciting and interesting. I love to cook, so coming up with ways to make veggies delicious was a fun challenge for me. I now love vegetables and can even sometimes get my picky eaters to love them too. Key word, sometimes. I'm still working on them, haha! There's a really good rule of thumb when going grocery shopping. Stick to the outer edges of the store. That is where all of your non processed foods are going to live. In the cold sections, and the produce area. Obviously I'm not saying to never go into the middle area, remember the 80/20 rule? Apply it to your groceries ;). 

Below is an example of what I usually eat in a day: 

• Right when I wake up I chug some water, this gets your organs a good jump start after resting all night.
• Then of course I drink my coffee with collagen and creamer. I love the Chobani Creamer. There are zero chemicals, low sugar, and it contains real cream. It's delish. 
• After my workout, I make a protein smoothie. It contians spinach, a cup of frozen fruit, a banana, vanilla protein powder, and a cup of water. Blended up into a thick, creamy smoothie. 
• I'm not going to lie, lunch time is hard for me. I'm not usually that hungry around lunch so it often consists of either a protein bar, an apple with peanut butter, yogurt, something more snacky!
• If I am hungry though, I make a turkey sandwich or avocado on toast. I keep it sweet and simple. Busy mama means the simpler, the better!
• I tend to make a lot of the same things every day. I switch up dinner time every now and then but it's a consistent rotation of the same things. I love me some grilled chicken, a sweet potato, and some roasted veggies, usually broccoli! Sometimes I get fancy and make goulash, or chicken enchiladas with pineapple and spinach (my newest obsession). I will make a posts of each recipe I love and make often, with some pictures!

If I'm feeling like something sweet, I'll have a little bowl of ice cream. Or yogurt with fruit in it. Or even just a banana. You're allowed to indulge in the goodies! It's not going to kill you. Life is too short anyway to stress about eating a little sugar here and there. Clearly you shouldn't eat a whole tub of ice cream, but a small bowl is totally okay. 

It takes time to shift your thinking into a "food is fuel" mindset. After I lost a lot of weight, and was still learning about what to eat, I was afraid of food. I refused to eat certain things because I was convinced that if I did, I would be fat again. That way of thinking is so exhausting, and so incredibly unhealthy! Now if I see certain foods, I relate them to how they make me feel. If I eat that, I probably wont feel that great, so I'm going to choose something that will fuel my body, make me feel good AND satisfied ;).  

My number one bit of advice to when it comes to shifting your eating habits is KISS. 

Keep

It

Simple

Stupid

The more simple your meals and snacks are to throw together, the more likely you are to eat them. You don't need to spend thousands of dollars on supplements, or only buy organic food. Yes, there are certain foods that I would recommend buying organic (I'll talk about that later). What I'm trying to get at is, eating to fuel your body can be easy and I'm going to show you how on this blog. 

Hope you all have a lovely day. Don't forget to smile :) 

Finding Me.

 When someone decides to start working out and eating healthier, what is usually their number one reason for starting? To lose weight, right? To look better and to feel better about themselves. It's strictly physical. However, the majority of people out there believe that eating healthier is by going on a diet. Restricting yourself and steering away from the foods you love most. Then we have exercising, what a torturous activity! I use to view exercise as a form of punishment. During volleyball season in middle school, if we messed up on a drill we were doing, we would have to go run sprints. Or go through some other type of hell. I hated every second of it. And don't get me started on having to run the mile. That shit started in 5th grade! Being told I have to go do something active against my own will, ruined my perspective on exercise. 

In high school, I tried every diet out there with my mom. How long did the diet last you ask? About a week. I just wanted so badly to be able to eat whatever I wanted, not exercise, and have a rockin' bod all at the same time. All of these other girls in school could do it, why couldn't I? It was so unfair! Let's go back to that day I got in a major fight with my boyfriend at the age of 18. Something inside of me made that choice to go for a run and get away from him. Something inside of me knew that there were ways to find my confidence and discover my true self. I honestly believe that was the day I found myself because I found the strength within me to walk away from something that was toxic. Moving back home, away from that boy, was liberating! 

Once I got settled back into my parents place in Southern UT, I would go for a short run every single night. I didn't run the whole time, and it was usually only for thirty to forty five minutes. There was a lot of walking involved in the beginning, but I was doing it. I was moving my body. I soon discovered techno music and that became my escape while running. Funny I know, but there's some damn good music out there that pairs perfectly with running. I think because it was MY idea to go for those runs, not some teacher or coach telling me I had to, it was easier to do it. I know, you don't have to tell me, I'm literally the most stubborn person on the planet, next to my toddler. 

About a month had gone by and I was feeling amazing. What I didn't expect to change so much was my mental and emotional state. I was completely focused on changing my outer body in the beginning. But what I was experiencing on the inside was incredible. I felt...happy with myself. For the first time in a really, really long time, I was proud. Going for those runs wasn't easy for me, in fact, there were times I hated every second of it. What I craved was the way I felt after the run. It was a high in itself. I also noticed that because I was busting my ass every day on those runs, I didn't crave all the shitty food I used to eat. My body craved wholesome foods. That is when I started researching different foods and learning about their benefits for the body. I was fascinated! 

Within six months of me consistently running at least 4-5 times a week (30-45 min a day), and completely changing the way I ate, the weight was just melting away. I wasn't on a "diet". I still indulged in certain foods on occasion. Key word "on occasion". All things in moderation. Ya feel me? So don't do away with ice cream, or a burger, or whatever your little taste buds desire. Just don't eat it every single day! Your body needs fruits and vegetables, protein, and healthy carbs. Oh, and a shit ton of water! Just do away with your juices and sodas completely. I promise. Your skin will thank you for it ;). What I also have learned is portion control, don't eat so much that your belly feels like it's going to explode. When you feel satisfied, stop eating. Drink some water and move on. You want to know the only shitty thing about my weight going down so quickly? Well, it really wasn't that quick, but because I had enough to lose that it became noticeable that I was losing it, some people assumed I was doing drugs or something. WTF?! Really?! That is when I realized that there will always be haters, even if you are doing good. So bring on the haters. All that matters is that you're taking care of you and your health. The people who truly know you, and care about you, will cheer you on and be proud of you. 

So that's my "secret" to how I began my weight loss journey. It was a complete change of lifestyle. It's been 11 years and I still live this same lifestyle. See how I said lifestyle? I didn't purchase a one month gym membership or some crazy expensive supplements promising I would lost weight. I didn't go on another horrible diet. I shifted my entire routine, my choices on food, my outlook on life and the people I surrounded myself with. I don't really run anymore, it became hard on my knees, and a pain in the ass trying to pick the perfect time to go because I've got 3 littles at home and needed my husband to be home with them while I went. But I still exercise 6 days a week. I discovered at-home workouts on YouTube and that's become my new obsession. I'm in the best shape I have ever been in, even after 3 kids. If you truly want to work on your health, find something you love doing and do it every day. Make it apart of your daily routine. Exercise and eating healthy is a habit. Pretty soon it becomes so automatic you don't even have to think about it, you just do it. I promise it's totally worth it. 

I'm grateful that I wasn't naturally thin. I wouldn't tell you that then haha! But now, I'm grateful I had to work for it. Also, I hate the word "skinny" and "fat". In this house we say you're either healthy or unhealthy. And we work on having a healthy and strong body, mind, and spirit. When you do something really hard, and you do it over and over again, you build your confidence up. You feel accomplished, and empowered. Just like I said in my previous post, after pushing out three humans, I felt like I was on top of the world. Imagine feeling a fraction of that on a daily basis because you got up and did something that not everyone does. If it were easy, everyone would do it! 

Planting the seed.

 Hello again, let's talk body image for a second. Did you know, around 25% of male children/adolescents in the US are concerned about their body image? Want to know an even more shocking number for females ages 13 and younger? Around 50% of young girls have reported being unhappy with their body. This number grew up to nearly 80% by the time girls reached 17 years of age. Nearly 80% of young teenage girls report fears of becoming fat. 

I understand it's difficult for both men and women, but for some reason, women live their daily lives constantly concerned with the way their body looks. It's not thin enough, tight enough, certain areas aren't round enough, smooth enough, and on, and on, and on...I am 100% guilty of this way of thinking. When I was younger, around the age of 12, puberty was working it's way into my life, and my body started changing. I grew a set of boobs that no 7th grader should ever have to deal with. By the time I reached 8th grade I was known as the girl with big boobs. I was already painfully shy growing up, and receiving this kind of attention made me want to crawl in a hole and stay there. I soon started to get bullied by someone very close to me. Whenever we would get into a fight, the big F word was thrown at me. And I don't mean the fuck word. I mean F-A-T. When that knife was thrown my way, boy did it cut deep. Not only did it cut deep, but coming from someone who was close to me, and supposed to help lift me up, shot me straight down, so why wouldn't I believe it? 

I started playing volleyball my 8th grade year and LOVED it. I was good at it. What I didn't love, and what I wasn't good at, was all the running and conditioning we had to do during practices. I hated it with a passion. My giant boobs never behaved, they were always touching the net when I would jump up to block and holding my fists together to bump the ball was stupid. I hated my boobs. I was convinced that I looked so fat because of these giant things on my chest. Ninth grade came around and I continued playing volleyball, but my boobs just kept getting bigger. I remember one horrifying day that I was actually sent home because my cleavage was so bad. I swear to god I could wear a turtleneck and my tits would still be hanging out. Ok, ok, that was an exaggeration, but you get my drift. The suckers were big! I also somehow gained a boyfriend at this time. He was weird, insecure, and emo, but I was weird and insecure too. He was 2 years older than me, had a car, played the cool guy card, and I was in love. I was also 14 and definitely not old enough to have a serious boyfriend, but we were inseparable. He also liked my giant boobies (facepalm). By the end of my ninth grade year I was so over my boobs getting in the way of my school and sport life that my dear sweet mom offered to take me in to a doctor and talk about a breast reduction. I was like, "you can do that?!" I was terrified, but jumped on board right away. Fantasizing about adorable little boobies on my chest was all I thought about. Oh how skinny I would look! My boyfriend at the time however, was not so thrilled about my decision. The last day of school came and went, and a couple weeks later I was scheduled for my first ever surgery, to cut my titties off. Yikes! The surgery took 3 hours, and I woke up loopy as hell, with boobies 2 cup sizes smaller. I was in heaven. I had the whole summer to heal and build a relationship with these new friends of mine.  

I thought having smaller boobs would fix all of my body image issues that I had with myself. Boy was I wrong. I had the same boyfriend up until the end of my junior year. When I said we were inseparable, I wasn't joking. We were always together. I even quit playing volleyball because spending time with him was more fun, and easier, than getting up and running my ass off at practice everyday. With a young love comes stupid choices. Stupid health choices. We ate cheap fast food all the time because neither of us had any money. I rarely did anything active at this point in my life and my weight was going up, and my confidence was going down. The day that broke me was stepping on to a scale, and I saw 200 lbs. 16 years old and 200 lbs nearly killed me. Remember my bully I told you about? Yeah, that kept getting worse with each fight we would get into. My boyfriend also had a couple buddies that were mad at him, and used me as the dagger. He would get messages like "your girlfriend is fat". Ouch! So not only is someone close to me calling me fat, but now outsiders are saying it too. It has been confirmed. I am fat. Which means there must be something wrong with me, right? That's how I felt. I felt worthless. Why would anyone want to be my friend? 

The summer before my senior year of highschool, my boyfriend and I broke up. At this point in my life I couldn't even tell you why. But I was completely devastated and heartbroken. It felt like I was mourning the death of my best friend. I had a couple close friends my senior year, but not many. I had lost a best friend a few years back due to some mean girls who started a rumor, and my other close friend discovered the beauty of vodka and boys, so I didn't see her much. My life consisted of a lot of TV, and food. I did have a job once I could drive that kept me busy after school and on weekends, but going out with friends on my free time was a rare occasion. I felt so out of place. I hated my body, I hated dressing up, I hated going shopping because nothing ever fit cute. I craved attention from boys but always got negative attention. I finally met a guy who was older than me, living on his own a few hours away from home. He genuinely liked me and we clicked really well. He slowly pulled me out of my little shell and he became my best friend. I also started drinking and smoking pot with him. I loved to drink. I felt confident and on top of the world when I would drink. I ended up moving in with him in a bedroom he was renting from one of his friends. I sort of worked, and he worked at a call center. This is where I discovered that working a normal 9-5 was so not my cup of tea. I have started and quit so many jobs in my life, simply because I wasn't happy there. My happy place is very important to me. 

Since I was so broke, living 3 hours away from home, and felt so incredibly lost in life, things just didn't feel right. Obviously. I was still pretty insecure and my boyfriend and I started getting into stupid fights. One fight got so bad, he grabbed me and threw me against a wall. It scared the shit out of me. I decided that day I was moving back home. Away from him, and to find myself again. The day before I moved home though, I remember putting on some cheap sneakers and attempted going for a run on the trail behind our apartment. This is the day a little tiny seed was planted. All it took was this half assed run to realize that is was I needed. I felt amazing. I felt clear headed. I felt strong. I don't know what it was about that day, because I was forced to run the mile in middle and high school, and I hated every second of it. In fact, I would come up with excuses to get out of running the mile.  Perhaps because it was my choice to step outside and go for a run, made it seem more doable. Or maybe I felt empowered because for the first time, I was the one putting my foot down and walking out of a bad relationship. Honestly, I'm sure it was a combination of both. 

The day I moved home, my sister had one of her new boy toys over and boy toy brought his friend. He was cute, tall, funny, and he liked me. God dammit. Here we go again. Falling for a boy just because he showed interest in me. He held a level of confidence though that I admired. I wanted to feel that way and I remembered that run I went on. I did feel that way. So, I thought, if I could get even more skinny, then this guy is going to stick around. Not the healthiest foundation to start a weight loss journey on, but hey, I'm just being real. 

Shortly after I met boy toys friend, he asked me to be his girlfriend, I said yes, and a whole two months went by before he became yet another toxic one too. We broke up, I felt all the feels for about a day, went for a run and was healed! What?! Just kidding. But I did handle it WAY better than I handled the last two break ups. It was time to focus on me now. I continued my nightly runs, got my ass signed up for hair school (which I dropped out of by the way. We'll get into that in another post), made a few new friends and just had fun. I was finally figuring out who Miquela was. The shy curtain was finally coming off.

There's something about stepping outside into mother nature, throwing some music in your ears, and hitting the pavement that becomes addicting. Sure it's difficult during the actual run, but each time you go, your body gets a little stronger and you're able to run just a little longer. It's a mental game for sure. Positive self talk is the key factor in order to keep going. Exercise isn't just sweating your ass off and being sore. It really does affect your mind and your spirit. It's incredible! You truly do form into a new person on the inside. That is what keeps me going, 11 years later. Moving my body literally feeds my soul. It helps me have a clear mind. God knows I need that with 3 little girls running around! I'm able to hold my head high and look people in the eye. It helps me be a better partner to my better half, and a better mother to my children. It helps me walk into a room and not worry what other people are thinking of me. The benefits are endless. I could go on forever. If there's one thing I will forever be grateful for, is finding my love for health and fitness. Not just because it helped me lose weight, but because it helped me grow tremendously in mind, body, and spirit. 

Just get started!

What do you want to do with your life? Do you want to continue with that 9-5 job, only making a set amount of money each month, just to get by? I sure as hell don't! There are so many things I have wanted to start doing, but I kept getting in my own way. I fall into the trap of the "what ifs". That fucking hole is deep and is sure to keep you stuck. What if people hate it? What if I sound dumb? What if I can't handle the rude comments? And on, and on, and on....

I keep asking the universe for a sign, or a direction to put me in, and you want to know what keeps getting thrown in my face? "Just start doing it!" Whatever it is you want to do, DO IT. Podcast after podcast, book after book. What are you waiting for? If you're waiting for the perfect time, you're never going to do it. It's not going to be perfect, nothing is at first. JUST GET STARTED. You'll learn, and get better along the way. You're doing this for you, remember? Nobody else. This is supposed to be enjoyable. Who cares what anyone thinks? You're fucking doing it. That deserves a round of applause. 

When someone looks at me and asks what my greatest accomplishment is, there are two things that come to mind. First one being, I was able to climb out of my insecure, shy little self, lose 75 pounds, and gain a confidence within myself that I never thought was possible. That is going to be a big topic that I bring to this blog. I'm going to share how I did it, and how I've maintained a healthy lifestyle ever since. I don't know one woman out there who has not been insecure about their body. It's drilled into us from such a young age, especially with the rise on social media. The pressure to look flawless, thin, cellulite-less, blah blah blah, is crazy! I still fall into the mindset that I could improve, whether it be my figure, my skin, my hair, my nails. Why can't we love ourselves the way we are? I've found that when I practice self love, and truly feel love for myself, is when I'm taking care of myself. Inside and out. Eating healthy, drinking water, daily exercise, affirmations, grounding, reading, all the things that truly represent self care. When I do all of those things, loving myself, and having confidence comes so easy. That is a huge reason I want to open up and share my stories. I know thousands of women will be able to relate to me and what I went through growing up. 

My second accomplishment that comes to mind is having babies...100% naturally, in the comfort of my own home. Getting an epidural was out of the question for me. Not because I couldn't get one, but because I know what's best for me and my babies, and doing it without drugs, in my safe haven, was the best option for me. After you birth a human, you feel like a fucking warrior. You feel unstoppable, like nothing can touch you. I went through one of the most painful things a human can go through, and I felt every bit of it. And guess what? I lived to tell about it! I don't mean to sound like I'm better than anyone who has received an epidural, but it's something I'm damn proud of and I'm going to brag about it until the day I die. I feel like if I talk about it enough, I can encourage other women to trust their bodies and do the same. There's just nothing like welcoming your new wee one into your home, literally. Your own bed, your own shower, your own food, a hospital just doesn't come close! 

I love hearing people share their stories. I love knowing that I'm not the only one who has gone through something really hard, and overcame a trial. Why do we scroll and scroll and scroll on social media everyday? Because we can relate to half of the shit that gets posted on there. We feel connected to complete strangers. Sounds weird, but it's true. So here I am, jumping the gun and finally getting started. Opening up to the world in such a way that I never have before. I'm excited and nervous and ready to help people reach their goals in life. I know that we go through certain things in life, so that one day we can share our experience to help someone else. 

My next post is going to be all about my weight loss. My tips, tricks, workouts, recipes, you get the picture. Can't wait to share my life with the world :D