I started writing a post the other day about my "weight loss journey" (gawd barf), and it got away from me.
Feelings, people. Feelings.
Being fat, and then thin, and then fat again and being happy throughout feels rebellious.
Not hating my old body/new body/newer old body feels revolutionary.
But I am not a revolutionary. And I am not a rebel.
Or am I?
I don't think that post will see the light of day. I get vocal, I drop all the F-bombs.
I get emotional. And that's okay. It's an emotional subject.
And it's just a little too much Lisa for this space.
But I will leave you with this, because my closing remarks still seem relevant, and important to put out into the world. Perhaps you can even get a glimpse of the passion and excitement of the words that preceded these.
Tell me I am beautiful, but tell me I am strong also. Compliment me on my gratitude, and my fortitude. On my determination, and my creativity, and my passion.
If that is one thing I could tell women (and men, but especially women) is to compliment each other on all that we can do, all that we are. Not just our genetics, or how we cut our hair.
And most importantly, tell your daughters. TELL YOUR DAUGHTERS.
Tell her all the amazing things that make her awesome, smart, determined, excited, active, funny, fun. There are so many more adjectives in this world that can lift us up, and turn us around, and inspire us, and move us to be our best selves.