IS VARIETY THE KEY TO SUSTAINED HEALTHY WEIGHT?

After my second child, at the age of 35, all of my go to weight loss tricks stopped working. I used to fast through dinner, a few nights per week, and that kept me right where I wanted to be. If I tried to pull that now, I’d gain weight immediately. Having a second child totally changed my lifestyle and increased my stress levels immeasurably. Being a full time working, nursing, and co sleeping (read not sleeping) mom left me exhausted and over run. The kids didn’t nap simultaneously, which meant no opportunities to mentally recharge, exercise had to happen before waking hours, and after getting home from work at 7:30 or 8:00, evenings were chaotic. This was a far cry from the relatively relaxed and routine life I’d been pulling off with one kid.

Dieting is a form of biological stress. Denying the body of consistent sustenance might work when the rest of your life isn’t nuts, but is sure to backfire any other time. I’m not advocating skipping meals, as I did, although now it’s a health craze called intermittent fasting- guess I was ahead of my time. Unfortunately, I wasn’t doing it to reduce inflammation or be healthy, just to be skinny.

I landed myself in the midst of adrenal fatigue (see my other article if you’re interested in learning more about this) with the stress, over exercise, and failed attempts at fasting, and gained 10 pounds lickety split. After years of working myself back into wellness and experimenting with several different ways of eating, I’ve figured a few things out about maintaining a healthy weight and feeling good. Sustainable energy levels are paramount, with three kids to chase after. I’m right around the weight I was before children (being thin isn't a natural state for me, if I eat like crap, I gain easily), and it doesn’t take an extreme amount of effort if you’re already dialed in to your wellness game.

1. Obvious stuff here, limit processed sugars and processed foods. They are laden with inflammatory ingredients, even the so called “healthy” ones are laced with soy, and hydrogenated oil, or carageenan. It took me 30 years to realize that even miniscule amounts of soy were the cause of my cystic acne. Check labels. Trader Joe’s is guilty of putting soy in so many foods you wouldn’t otherwise suspect.

2. I indulge in ways that aren’t off the charts unhealthy. If I bake, I use less sugar, like if it calls for two cups, I’ll use one, and generally substitute white sugar for coconut sugar (it’s low glycemic). For me, a common indulgence is chai with nut milk and a teaspoon of coconut sugar or raw local honey, or a hot cocoa with organic raw cacao powder, nut milk, vanilla, and a teaspoon of coconut sugar. Kombucha really hits the spot in the summer. Those small daily treats keep me honest. Time it when you know you’re most likely to cave to cravings. For most, it’s that post-dinner/ pre-bedtime urge that gets us.

3. I usually have three meals and one afternoon snack. Be kind to your body, and give it a break from digestion by not being a chronic snacker. Your system will run a lot more smoothly. My snacks are generally an apple or pear, a few almonds, raw veggies, or potato chips fried in avocado oil, which leads me to my next point.

4. Avoid canola and vegetable oils. They are GMO and heavily processed. They cause inflammation, and inflammation causes, you guessed it, weight gain. I use avocado or coconut oil for cooking, because they don’t deteriorate when heated. When heated beyond its smoke point, olive oil gives off toxic smoke (not healthy to inhale) and heat destroys its antioxidants, so what’s the point? That being said, I save it for salad dressings. You shouldn’t need anything beyond those three oils.

5. I don't go crazy in the fat department. I'm not avoiding it like the plague, circa 1990’s, but it’s not the second coming for me like it is for some others. My body doesn't like a lot of fat. I stick with healthy oils for cooking and salad dressings, seeds, and avocados.

6. Almost everyone is deficient in Magnesium, Vit D3, B12, and Omega 3’s. A good multivitamin for women that contains folate instead of folic acid (hard to find and a must) is Ritual. Being low on these nutrients can cause sleep issues, energy problems, and weight gain.

7. I eat healthy carbs, like squash, sweet potatoes, white potatoes (unless nightshades are out for you), quinoa, chickpeas, lentils, eggs, buckwheat, and the occasional organic rice. I try to carb cycle from one day to the next. If I have a particularly carb heavy meal one day (say, butternut squash soup for lunch), I limit them the next, usually by having a salad with protein for lunch. Or, maybe at dinner, I'll eat my main dish on a bed of steamed zucchini or sautéed kale versus rice.

8. I’m not a firm believer in high protein, low carb being the ticket to weight loss. That works for some, but not all, me being one of them. The effects seem to peter out after a few months anyway. I eat meat a couple times per week, and only once per day. Meat requires a longer time to digest, so it’s best taken at dinner. I amp up my protein with the addition of hemp seeds, raw pumpkin seeds, raw sunflower seeds, chia seeds, flax seeds, collagen powder, lentils, chickpeas, and goat cheese.

9. I rotate my nut milks, to avoid becoming sensitive to one of them, which would cause inflammation and weight gain. When I run out of almond, I switch to coconut. When that’s done I do hemp, or macadamia. You get the picture.

10. This is a big one and maybe a surprising one. I rotate my food. If you eat the same foods over and over again (total woman problem because we are such creatures of habit) you’re likely to become sensitive to them over time. That sensitivity may not have any physical symptoms other than gradual weight gain. I do best if I don't repeat a meal more than two times per week, no matter how healthy it seems. We have the same dinners no more than twice per month, and I really try to work seasonal veggies in, to get a good mix of nutrients. So, if I have a veggie scramble on Monday, I’ll have chia pudding the next, and then buckwheat the following day. At that point, I can start the rotation over again. Maybe for lunch, I’ll have sweet potato soup and Pepitas on Monday, then a large salad with hemp seeds, apple, and avocado the next, and on Wednesday I might do lentils with sauteed kale and goat cheese. Repeat. Or Whatever. As long as you’re not eating the same meals more than twice per week and are doing your damndest to avoid the back to back stuff. Some family favorites for dinner are vegan chickpea masala, buddha bowls with roasted chickpeas, breakfast dinner (nitrate free bacon with sauteed potatoes and peppers and onions), salad with homemade mint dressing and chickpeas, served with pitas for the kids, crockpot thai basil chicken over rice, beef stew, and skirt steak with an olive oil cilantro sauce and potato salad made with olive oil and fresh herbs instead of mayonnaise, veggies added to all of those in some form or another. Kale and zucchini dice up nicely into many foods without morphing the flavor too much. Check out the Mindful + Mama Pinterest page for these recipes.

11. I freeze portions of leftover dinners. This makes it easy to rotate lunches without repeating and major meal prep. Soup is another great freezer item, because it's inevitable that there's always too much.

12. I allow the occasional indulgence (like twice per month)- sometimes you must have a burger or pizza, period. I just try to balance it out by skipping the fries, etc, because to me, it’s not worth feeling lethargic or bloated for the next several hours. There are some foods that aren't ever worth dabbling in, because they are very disruptive to my system, like ice cream and high fat dairy. I'm happier and healthier without them. Know your limits and respect yourself enough to maintain them.

-Angi

LIVE LONG AND PROSPER. Know yourself to love yourself.

The past three weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions. My paternal grandfather, who lived a beautiful and full 100 years, passed away. I also attended my 20-year High School Reunion. Two completely different scenarios, each bringing an array of emotions, and leaving me reevaluating my past, present, and future.

I thought about the long life of my grandfather, the legacy he’d left behind. Grief is debilitating at times, but creates moments that push you to look at your life and contemplate how to make it more meaningful. Trite things, like the new shoes you want or your bad hair day no longer hold relevance.

My 20 year High School Reunion; fun! Before I attended, I went through my yearbook. Gazing at all the pictures and comments people wrote was comical, but got me reminiscing of my past; more specifically, the type of person I was. I wondered, if I could travel back in time and talk to 18 year old Nayantara, what would I tell her?

Toeing the line of adulthood, I was full of myself. I didn’t care what people thought of me, I had a smart-ass mouth, was egotistical, goofy, sincere, loyal, trustworthy, and compassionate about the things that mattered. Like a lot of teenagers and young adults, I was “finding myself.” Along the way of “finding myself,” I made a TON of “mistakes.” I hurt people and got hurt in the process. Events in my life rattled my core, yet I tried to brush them off like as though they didn’t put a dent in me. I became jaded, selfish, and lost. My life went this way for some time. It wasn’t until I walked into my advisor’s office that everything changed.

Dr. Arthur Wint, one of the most influential people in my life. I went to him to talk about my career path and left sobbing my heart out. He said these words to me five minutes into our conversation, “I see pain in your eyes.” My stomach dropped, I knew he saw right through my facade. On the outside, I was put together; on the inside, I was a hot mess. He encouraged me to seek counseling, along with pursuing my Higher Education in Marriage and Family Therapy. I wanted to be an FBI Profiler, and he saw right through that, too; stating I was "too nice” and that he envisioned me touching others with my “empathy and intuition.” This man is and was right about everything he stated; I trusted him, and I am so grateful that I did. His words led me to counseling. Through counseling, I finally “found myself.”

So, what would I tell 18-year-old me?

1. Have Awareness of Who You Are- sounds cliché, but think about it. Do you really know who you are? We stress every day about what we ate or when we’re going to find time to work out, but how often do you ask when you will learn more about yourself emotionally/spiritually? We tend to focus on our physical sensations, but ignore our emotional, spiritual, and mental health.

2. My students say I am a “mind reader,” and I say, “I wish.” I do know that there are patterns we lead, influenced by our pasts. One, which is very common, is settling for the love we BELIEVE we deserve. Yet, most people will say, at their core, that they don’t believe they deserve happiness; I was one of them, and I didn’t even know it. Lucky for me, I was 24 when I realized this, instead of 38. Yet, if I'd known this at 18, what a difference it would have made. Know yourself, truly know yourself. Seeking counseling is a wonderful way to start. Let go of the stigma you hold on to, look at it as a means of understanding yourself.

3. Forgive Yourself and Forgive Others- We are often our own worst critics. We tell others to forgive themselves because they “didn’t know any better,” and then beat ourselves up for making choices that are often subconscious decisions based on Ego. If you knew better, you wouldn't have made the decision in the first place. The fact that you are ashamed means that your soul feels it is wrong. It can take years to recognize your soul, to find that self-awareness. Others that have hurt you probably didn’t do it on purpose. They too were operating from their Egos; the subconscious survival mechanisms they’ve used all of their lives. Holding on to their misfortunes only ties you to their toxic behavior. Let go of the hurt and pain, embrace empathy and compassion for yourself and for them.

4. Be Vulnerable- We often negatively relate vulnerability to weakness. Vulnerability means showing your true self, flaws and all. We live our lives hoping people will see us one way, that they don’t notice our insecurities, our wounds, our hearts. I tell my students to ask their patients, “What’s on your heart today?” I then follow it up with, “I know it’s cheesy, but trust me, it works.” You may be scared to speak from your heart. You may not feel internally that you deserve others to listen to what is in your heart. I want you to know, the ones who truly love you want to, those that will always be there will listen. You are worth their time, and when you speak with your heart, you are expressing your soul’s desire. How amazing and powerful is that!

5. No Regrets, No Shame- Remember that movie The Butterfly Effect (small causes can have larger effects)? Every bad decision, painful circumstance, and toxic relationship made me who I am today. I am proud of the woman I've become. I know I am far from perfect, and I know how to look at that. I will no longer shame myself, beat myself up, or ruminate about something I cannot change. I am human, shame and doubt inevitably creep in. I am okay with that. My self-awareness has taught me to continually foster introspection and re evaluate myself.

LIVE LONG AND PROSPER.

-Nayantara

40 IN FOREVER 21- Coming to grips with the process that is aging.

The checkout girl, no more than 20, looks up at me. I'm not sure if it’s the lines around my eyes, the weary look of parental defeat, my inability to follow the credit card machine prompts, or my pile of washable cotton basics, and she says, “are all your kids at school today?”

A punch to the gut. Here I am, a 40 year old, in Forever 21. I’d previously failed to notice that everyone around me is 20 years my junior and every shirt is a crop top with some ridiculous bold phrase, “allergic to mornings,” “babes do it better,” “made in the nineties.” Ugh, or seventies. I struggle to find anything wearable in the store that used to be my cheap girl Mecca. It's been a few years since I set foot in the place, I’m now three kids deep and a stay at home mom instead of a hairstylist. At least when I did hair, style was an expectation. I was excused from the pragmatism of mom wear, because I was repping a hip industry.

For the first time, I’m self conscious of my presence here, painfully aware that I've passed an age threshold. I still feel like the 21 year old that wore risqué trends and walked around bare bellied like she owned the place. There are moments when my current life seems like a dream that I've stepped into, as if I woke to a house full of kids after a long night at the bar. Who even is this girl? And, can I call myself a girl anymore?

Sometimes it feels dispiriting to think about the excitement that I'll never have again, to be aware that parts of my life are now completely known, no mystery as to how the story ends. No day dreaming about my future house or children or husband, loved as they may be. They're here now. We’re living it. That girl is someone to reminisce upon, her adventures things of the past. I allow a twinge of sadness as I say adieu to her, the uncharted possibilities she encompassed, walking out of Forever 21 for what will likely be the last time.

I'm forced to recognize that when I was her and she was me, she was an unknown to even herself, fumbling through life and love, making mistakes left and right, assuming she knew it all. She was uncomfortable in her own skin, experimenting with ways of being, trying to find her self worth, her identity, approval. She was selfish, often hurtful with her thoughtless words, impatient and obtuse.

Becoming a parent forced an evolution that could only have occurred through the necessity to focus on people other than myself. Patience and selflessness created a sensitivity that was lacking. I've grown immeasurably because of the permanence that is my family, my responsibility. The loss of freedom and time that goes hand in hand with parenting has created a much stronger woman who prioritizes only the things that matter. I have a resilience to criticism that wouldn't have existed before, because the only opinions that truly matter are contained within the walls of my home.

My youth may be taking leave, but the truth is that the story of my life as a woman is just beginning. I'm more than just a has been buying $4 leggings at Forever 21. I'm creating futures for three beautiful children. I'm crafting the foundation for their youths, carefully curating experiences for them to build upon, opportunities to explore who they are and what they love. I'm busy solidifying identities to instill confidence and worth, exposing them to as much as I can to peak their curiosity and desire for knowledge. What's more, I'll get to witness the excitement that is their 20’s, stumbling from one experience to the next, as they learn themselves.

The day shall come when I'll see myself through their teenage and adult eyes, and I'll unravel all over again, our dynamics teaching me what is and isn't working.

As empty nesters, my husband and I will make ourselves anew in who knows how many ways.

The journey is far from over, an evolution after every season of life. I find myself with tears in my eyes as I think of that 21 year old girl, silly and excitable, naive and bold, searching for her place. But, it is with tears and joy, intertwined, that I picture myself as a 60 year old woman, story more than half written, finale yet to be determined. I adore that these two women will have inhabited the same skin, given breath to so many vastly different adventures, none more or less important than others to the making of a woman, the sculpting of a life. They will have seen through the same eyes, but interpreted what they behold from evolving perspectives, none more right than the last, just differently informed.

And, one day, my daughter will look into the mirror and behold who she was, is and has yet to become. Each layered upon one another, maybe not gone, just within. I guess a part of us will always be forever 21...

-Angi

TIT FOR TAT IN MARRIAGE. WHAT'S IT REALLY ABOUT?

If you've been reading my output, chances are you've got a pretty clear idea about the name of my game: recognizing ineffective methods of operating in your relationships.

Most of us are living on the surface of our lives. This isn't intended to act as an insult. I'm not insinuating that we’re shallow. My observation is that we live busy, over stimulating lives. Our plates are overflowing, and there simply isn't the energy or the excess time to be introspective at the level required to actually understand the motivations behind our ineffective tendencies.

Humility is en vogue right now. Self deprecating humor is everywhere. Unlike our parents’ and grandparents’ generations, admitting our flaws isn't considered a weakness. Acknowledging the problem is the first step, but most of us fail to go beyond that.

We out ourselves and consider the job done. We’re more open about our inadequacies than ever, but identifying your triggers and the origins thereof is a lot to ask when your head is already spinning because you have little people to take care of and a husband to stay connected with, amidst all of life’s other chaos.

Unfortunately, you can expect more of the status quo in your relationships as long as you continue to stop short in your introspection. That fight that you have over and over and over again with your husband, never gonna end.

My real life example: When my husband wants to go do something on his own or with his friends, I have difficulty feeling supportive or glad for his much needed respite from dad and husband life. I've had this issue in previous relationships, when my trust had been betrayed, my bond was shaky, and faith in my partner just didn't exist, which is common for many, thus my bringing it up, but that's not the case with my husband.  

Our scenario has to do with me associating him taking care of his needs with a lack of concern about my own. He knows how worn down I am, how much I do for the kids, how neglected I am, how can he even feel decent about leaving me here to go it alone?

Most of us don't make it past that initial line of thought. We impulsively give him the cold shoulder and maybe have a confrontation about some other thing later on, because we’ve held our feelings in for too long. Or, we have a blow up right then and there about him leaving, and he begrudgingly stays in. You then sit on opposite ends of the couch ignoring each other until you forget what you were pissed off about to begin with, usually the next morning. A good night’s sleep seems to offer temporary amnesia. And your husband, well he doesn't know what the hell even hit him. Men are pretty good at circumnavigating futile emotions, like guilt. Women, well, we like to wear that one like a crown, dangling it for all to see when it suits us.

If I let those feelings sit and don't dig any deeper, which I sometimes do, because I'm tired, and I don't want to think anymore, then I would never realize that the underlying emotion for me is a fear of rejection. If my husband is taking care of his needs and not acknowledging mine, (not exactly accurate, but the mind and heart are often irrational) then he must not appreciate me. If he doesn't appreciate me, does he notice me? Does he love me as much as I love him? Am I worthy of his love, of anyone's love? Oh God, I'm going to be alone… You can go further with this, exploring why those sensations exist. Who did you need to be to feel loved growing up? How did your parents interact? How do you feel about you lately?

The point of this exploration is to own your side of the interaction, instead of thrusting all of the responsibility for your feelings into your partner’s lap. Chances are that there's more to it than meets the eye. If there is a repeated sore spot in your relations with significant people in your life, then there is a deeper underlying issue that’s going to require some psychological excavating.

Start by addressing your basic feelings. Think about the recurring friction. Really try to identify if there is an insecurity for you surrounding this topic. If you're going deep enough, you should notice some discomfort and even embarrassment. Admitting flaws doesn't feel nice. On some level, if you linger in it, you should be able to recognize a fear in there. This is going to vary, based upon the situation at hand, but it generally comes down to a fear of not being worthy of love or a fear of not feeling connected. Fear and Love are the two most basic emotions, they're the foundation for everything else. So, if you're pissed off, there's some fear hiding in there.

Determining your raw sentiments isn't a cure all. You then have to remind yourself of them the next time you feel the desire to do battle. The goal is to be able to talk yourself down from that ledge, because you know how irrational the interaction is. It helps me to also remember that my husband is fighting his own inner demons, and we’re both just trying to protect our hearts from pain and loss; noble causes, indeed.

None of it’s going to come easy. It's all work, but so is the drudgery of endless bickering turned silent treatment, on repeat. You can move beyond that one argument and maybe tear the band aid off another festering wound that needs mending, slowly working through heartaches and fears of years’ past, becoming a fierce team united and persevering in love, a true force to be reckoned with.

-Angi

PREGNANT AND THINKING.

Eleven years ago, on a hot June night, my daughter was passionately conceived (her middle name is June for a reason). I skipped a period, freaked out, made haste to my local grocery store for a pregnancy test and had half a second to knock over a box of cereal inside my cart to hide the 99.9%-accuracy label before I ran smack into my future mother-in-law (I kid you not.) I went home to my apartment where I was nightly sharing a bed with John for the past two months (a time I now refer to as the ‘courtship-quickie’) and found out that I was in fact harboring a fetus. I quickly pounded a glass of wine so I could secretly wrap my head around the abortion I would be scheduling in the morning.

I was twenty-five, not vehemently attached to any ideal for my future, but wise enough to know that babies needed 100% of what you had to give. I hadn’t had any aha moments confirming that I was actually even a grown-up yet. There were only two options: be miserable and have a baby, or don’t think about it and have an abortion.

The thoughts confirming that pregnancy yields misery were readily available; I would be a disappointment to my new boyfriend. I would be sabotaging our careless nights of drinking, and whimsical weekend warrior trips. I would resign my body to be transformed by pregnancy in every way that society dictates women shouldn’t be: fat, hormonal and unattractive. In the long run, I would be alone raising a baby, committed to giving up my life as an individual, poor and on welfare. These were the only thoughts I could conjure, because this is what I had witnessed in my community of women.

In retrospect, there was another community of women that existed; the ones who had pruned despair out as quickly as it had sprouted. Society didn’t promise them any favorable support as a single mother. Society sexualized them and packaged them, and one unplanned pregnancy later, they were left without any headspace to visualize themselves as successful mothers. So in some instances, terminating a pregnancy can be a choice, or it can be something that you do without ever being able to think about it. Not thinking, is assuredly the quickest way to give up your liberty as an individual woman.

In my terrified attempt to save my individuality, I would have hastily made a choice, and then had a lifetime to think about it, after the fact. I am whole heartedly speaking from my own perspective. And although I did not have an abortion eleven years ago, I am no stranger to the effects that an unthoughtful abortion may have on a woman’s psyche. My two sisters and I were fertilized eggs in a time and space that encouraged my mother as a successful pregnant woman. But before us, and multiple times in between us, there was no abundance of support. And I watched my mother deteriorate as a woman after each successive termination.

That night as I crawled into our shared bed, John put his arms around me and held me in the darkness. I couldn’t stop the thoughts. I had no idea that I was a brave, grown woman, capable of doing difficult things. The revelation that I existed when others had not, would have led me to the obvious answer if I’d only known I could ask it; did I want this baby? I wasn’t able to get there. I was shutting down. That is when John’s whisper broke the silence.

“Emily, are you pregnant?”

“Yes” I responded, “I’m sorry. You don’t have to worry, I’m not going to keep it.”

“Why don’t you want to keep it?” He said, “We could have a baby.”

In that moment I realized “we” could maybe do it. Once I knew I wasn’t alone, every rational thought of success flooded my veins, filled my heart and poured life into my growing baby. This was my aha moment. I was physiologically vulnerable now that I was pregnant, but any lack of confidence I may have had about how this world would receive me was null once I knew that I wasn’t alone.

My story has a happy ending. And the reality is that many women won’t find a safe space to ask themselves what they want. I recently read an article by Sherronda J. Brown, White Women in Robes, that shed light on the so called choices that many pregnant women are given in regards to their pregnancies. I stand by reproductive rights with my ladies, but I can clearly see how “pro-choice” for many unsupported pregnant women leads to only one choice. If you have time to give it a perusal, I would love to hear what you think. https://werdbrew.wordpress.com/2017/07/15/white-women-in-robes/

-Emily