It’s been exactly six days since I left the comfort of my little nook in Honolulu where my space and energy were meticulously scheduled out. If you are a serial killer, you would have been able to pin point my exact location purely out of my sheer discipline and extreme adherence to regimen without having to have my phone. (I kid I kid about the serial killer thing LOL).

I’ve drank more alcohol than I would ever have in a month. I’ve eaten a lobster roll, a slice of pizza and other food items I would usually steer clear of. Yes, I’ve continued to exercise. And yes, that has to do with both my need for control and the fact that because my routine is off, my feelings of my body are also “off” and I admit it, exercising helps control those feelings.

But, as I navigate through this uncomfortable situation, I also welcome the break; the break from compulsive exercise; the break from rigid dieting or all day fasting; a break from taking all of my supplements. I welcome the mental and physical break of sorts, from my unique hamster 🐹 wheel back at home.

Sure sure. I get ready. I look in the mirror. I see something that gives me pause. But I know better now not to dwell. I notice the self hate talk and I quickly move onto something else. I put on my best outfit. I blow out my hair. I wear my boldest lip color and I rock that shit!

Because really, if we really analyze it, my body will not look any different today than it had last week Thursday, right before my routine blew up.

It’s really all in my head. YES, its really all in our heads, BB.

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