Tag Archives: weight problem

How I survived grad school (up to today) and gained 10 pounds

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How I survived grad school (up to today) and gained 10 pounds

This is my 4th semester in grad school.  Next semester, Fall 2017, should be my last, and I will be a proud recipient of a MBA concentration finance.  I take online classes, two classes per semester and I work full-time (Ouf!).  That leaves me with little-to-no social life, an eating disorder, stress level off the charts, and a ‘happy’ problem (by happy I mean 3 or 4 ciders a week).

I sit at work for long hours. I decide to go to the gym.  I pay for a gym membership that I never use.  I went to the gym once this year.  I do not like moving. I eat a 3 courses meal for lunch. I complain a lot. I drink 3 to 4 ciders per week (the calories add up).  I decide to eat healthy. I buy fruits and vegetables. I eat them. I do not buy more. I look up healthy recipes.  I never cook using them. I stopped eating ice cream at home.  I stress eat churros. I stress eat tempura ice cream.  I eat late at night while doing homework.  I stay up late doing homework.  I sleep less than 6 hours per night.  I have no social life.  I text everyone instead of calling. I make plans to hang out.  I meet up with friends. Most times I cancel plans with friends. I feel bad about my social life.  I go on Facebook and Instagram and feel worse about myself.  I stress out that everyone in my class is more intelligent than me. I work twice harder to catch up to them. I stay up even later to study.  I get tips to lower stress for friends and classmates.  I use tips and it lowers my stress during the day.  During the evening, my stress level skyrockets because I think that I missed important deadlines.  I stress cry. I complain. I start seeing a therapist.  I think about quitting therapy.  I no longer enjoy my work.  

That is how I cope with grad school and work full time. Any tips?

Dressing Sexy!

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Oh La La!!! Who does not like hearing compliments??

For me dressing sexy had always been a problem.  First of all, I was born in a country where a sexy woman is a voluptuous curvaceous woman like Beyonce.  My body type, on the other hand, is more like Zoe Zaldana’s type of sexy.  Second, I was often picked on because of my size and body shape. Classmates would always say how skinny I ,or how they were afraid I might break in two pieces, or how they were afraid I might get blown away in a hurricane (which is a season in the Caribbean). Occasionally, I would receive a compliment, quickly followed by a sneaky remark like “but you need to gain weight!”.  It was not an environment suitable to build a strong self-esteem. I grew up always wishing that I would gain weight to be attractive. The only person who had always complimented me was my mom, never she had a negative comment about my body.  Third, none of my close friends are sexy (according to the Caribbean type), and they all had vicous and negative comments about their body and mine as well.  I tried to understand them and to be supportive by not dressing sexy.  This way I thought, none of us would feel sexier than the other.  I kept that habit for so long that it became a second nature.

However, I have decided that I need to break free from that habit. I do like my body. I finally made peace with it. I do not need to comply to a specific aesthetic to feel good about my look.  I do not need to wait for the media to tell me that I look good enough.  I need to have self-confidence. I need to stop being my enemy, stop being mean and unfair to myself.  I need to embrace my own beauty.  I need to stop covering it or wearing unflattering clothes to help my friends.  They have problems with their body, that is their problem, they need to work on it. I will support them, but I will no longer hide my body.

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That is cropped pic of me trying to look sexy. Notice the sweater for just in case I need to cover up (old habits die hard)

Recently, a few friends, now that they have matured, have admitted that they were jealous of my body (hence the negative comments growing up).