Finding Me, Finding You

As I write this, I’m on the way home to see my family.

Only this trip, I’m not going it alone.

I bringing home a guy.

My boyfriend.

I haven’t written too much about him here; I guess a part of me wanted to wait and see what was going to happen first.

I was nervous. Not so much that I’d jinx it (after all, I’d written about heartache before), but that he’d read what I had to say. I was afraid to put it all out there for him to stumble on. I didn’t want him to read on a blog post that I loved him before I said it to him—or even more so, before he said it to me.

But those heart-pattering words were exchanged, and today he’s coming home to meet a good portion of my family.

Part of me still feels like pinching myself. Was this real? Did I actually meet a great guy—or was this a dream?

There have been so many times that I haven’t wanted to go to events because I felt self-conscious.

There have been so many times I’ve said I’d date more and make an effort to meet a guy—when I hit goal.

There have been so many times that I let my body (and my often messed-up relationship with it) stop me from going after great things.

I hated when I did that.

I’d been working to change that.

Time and time again, I’d said confidence is key, that you have to push yourself outside your comfort zone, that beauty comes in all shapes and sizes, and that you have to love yourself unconditionally.

I believed those things—then and now—but sometimes it was still hard for me to get past my own insecurities.

I made efforts, but I didn’t always succeed.

But I kept trying (fake it ’til you make it has sprung my lips, and my pen, on more than one occasion).

After all, I needed to practice what I preached.

And it paid off.

I pushed aside my fear, my self-consciousness, and put myself out there.

I met my boyfriend at a college alumni networking event.

An event I almost didn’t go to. I was on deadline, I was tired, I wasn’t feeling particularly social, and I felt like a mess.

I picked myself up and went anyway, and I am so glad that I did.

It didn’t matter that I wasn’t at goal (or even close). I decided to push the insecurities aside.

I literally said screw it, and decided to just be myself.

And it worked.

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t care what people thought, I didn’t let myself overthink things, I didn’t worry if I was saying the “right” thing, or if people thought I didn’t look the “right” way, I just decided to have fun.

They were strangers—who cared if they didn’t all wind up liking me?

I liked me.

I reminded myself, I didn’t have anything to lose.

But it turned out I had everything to gain.

I met the man that I love.

It was a reminder to me to live life to the fullest—at all times. I still can’t wait to get to goal. I’m looking forward to it, and it’s something I strive for, but in the meantime, I’m going to branch out of that comfort zone and do all the things I want to do now, regardless of my size.

Because my weight doesn’t determine my life.

I do.

And I plan to make the most of it!

I’d love to hear from you! You can find me on Connect @shani!

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