Category: Health & Lifestyle

Health & Lifestyle · Healthy Habits · Mental Health

The Photo that Sparked my 50lb Weight Loss Journey

Beth DeFries3 Comments

While looking through the photos stored on my phone the other day, I came across the picture that sparked my weight loss journey back in June of 2024. I spent a few minutes looking at the person on my screen, the girl frozen in time in front of Buckingham Fountain in Chicago’s Grant Park on a sunny day in June. She didn’t know it then, but her life was about to change.

In the days after we got home from Chicago, that picture in front of Buckingham Fountain was like a magnet for my attention. After a youth and much of my adulthood spent comparing my own size to that of others, I had at least learned the toxicity in that practice, but what about comparing myself to myself? The girl in the picture was a size I had never before associated with me. Still, I took the image at its face value. That’s what I look like now, I thought, that’s me.

Oddly enough, as someone who struggled constantly with weight and body image, I didn’t dislike the picture. The fountain was beautiful and I was happy to have documented my being there and to reflect on my memories of our trip to Chicago. Now, was I over the moon about how I looked in the picture? I was not, my friends, but what’s the use in worrying too much over something you can’t change, right? Hmm…

I don’t know at what point after that the mysterious magic began to sparkle in my brain, but begin it did.

How do skinny people do it?

Why am I always hungry?

Am I actually always hungry?

These were the new questions in my head that day in June that sparked the experiment that has led to my fifty pound weight loss and many successful, comfortable months of maintenance.

I was convinced before starting this journey that there was something different about my brain that prevented me from being able to lose weight and to maintain weight loss. I had tried Weight Watchers multiple times in the past with success while on the program, only to have no idea what I was doing when it came to understanding healthy eating, portion sizes, hydration, and proper nutrition balance as soon as I stopped paying for the subscription. That’s how they getcha, I guess. I even wondered if I had a food addiction that resulted in me eating too much at every meal, causing me to experience discomfort and even physical pain for a majority of the days of each week. I was afraid I couldn’t change. I was afraid any changes I made wouldn’t last long. I was afraid. Period.

From where I am now, reflecting on my start in all this, I recognize the damage that inflating your fears can have on starting out on a weight loss journey or any monumental task, for that matter. If you’re too afraid to start, you won’t start. If you’re dismissive of your own ability to learn, you won’t learn. I pretended my fears were facts at the time. I blamed my brain for always “making me feel hungry”, not taking the time to figure out why that was. I decided that day, looking at that picture, that I didn’t care if it would be hard or uncomfortable. In fact, I knew it would be. I just wanted to understand the answers to my questions and I wanted to be able to get to the bottom of them myself.

Getting started was uncomfortable and confusing; I won’t sugar coat it. It was anything but easy. Still, the discomfort and the sensation of being out of my depth when it came to understanding my hunger cues and adjusting my eating habits was well worth the learning process. If understanding your own body’s nutritional needs is something you strive for and have struggled with, I urge you not to let your fear of failure and discomfort stop you from starting on your own journey, even if you have started it many times before.

In the first few days, as I was just getting started, I really focused on trying to listen to my body, whatever that means, I told myself. I ate meals without distraction of my phone or the television. I searched the internet to learn more about how hunger pangs can manifest. I learned that thirst can present similarly to hunger pangs and found that to be a revelation in and of itself. I learned that my hunger pangs don’t usually present with a growling stomach as some people’s do, but rather with irritability, a headache, fatigue, or some combination of those.

Those first few days of the process, I worried that in order to keep up my new healthy habits long term, I would have to feel uncomfortable and hungry for forever. As the week wore on, however, the discomfort subsided gradually and the constant food noise quieted down to the point where I could ignore it by finding my dopamine hits in writing, watching a YouTube Video, reading a book, or having a glass of water, seltzer, or some tea.

After a couple of weeks, I was surprised at how little food my body actually needed to function comfortably versus the enormous amounts I had been consuming prior to getting started. I wondered if I was eating too little even, at one point, but reminded myself that I would be able to tell that by listening to my body and my brain- by paying attention to my food as I ate- the texture of it, the taste, the smell, the colors, by recognizing when I had satisfied my hunger pangs to the point where I could get through the next three to four hours comfortably. Through trial and error, I learned the magic of portion control, Goldilocksing my way to the sweet spot for my own satiety.

I took comfort in the fact that I didn’t have to count calories or track what I was consuming. I just used smaller plates and bowls that I already had that made it easier to eyeball portions that were the right size for me. I weighed myself on Thursday mornings every other week. It felt different from dieting I had done in the past, in that I was still eating pretty much all the foods that I regularly enjoyed. In the first month, I did my best to pay attention to which of those foods did a good job of satiating my hunger and which ones did not, which ones induced cravings that weren’t real hunger, and which ones actually made me hungrier, surprisingly enough. Cereal and chicken nuggets had to go for a while there, though I can eat them mindfully now.

After the first few days, my new eating habits started to feel more normal and natural. After a few weeks, I was noticing the first of many “non-scale victories”. I relished the fact that some of my common ailments such as heartburn, bloating, and stomachaches hadn’t plagued me since before starting my experiment. I opened my handbag and removed the little bottle of Tums that lived there because all it had been doing for weeks at that point was taking up space.

Was it really this simple this whole time, I thought? If so, why was it so hard to wrap my head around before?

It’s funny how simple some of the hardest things can be, how the littlest changes, when made consistently, can lead to huge differences. Now, don’t get me wrong. When I say “simple”, I don’t mean easy. For many, I have come to learn, learning proper nutrition habits, learning how to identify your true hunger cues, and understanding when you are what people call “full” can be like reading an instruction manual in a language you only understand a few words of.

Let’s talk about that word full for a minute. It is my strong opinion that this word is dangerously ambiguous. For example, my personal interpretation and understanding of the word full before beginning my weight loss journey was identical to the sensation of feeling overstuffed. I have since reframed this thinking to interpret that what, let’s call “naturally thin” people really mean when they say they feel full is that they simply recognize they are no longer hungry; their body has consumed the nutrients and energy it needs to get through the next three to four to however-many hours until their next meal. This was a monumental “light bulb” realization for me and has been really helpful in checking in with myself during both my weight loss and my maintenance stages, to the point where I have only reached that uncomfortable “overstuffed” sensation a handful of times in the past year.

For many months during my weight loss journey, I sought out motivation via a Reddit thread called “r/loseit”. A lot of posters in the thread were working on their goals to reach a healthy weight, to improve their mobility, and / or to reverse the negative health effects that can often accompany obesity. Some posters in the thread had goals of losing 100+ pounds. Some posters had already lost impressive amounts of weight and were successful long term in their maintenance. I found their posts so inspiring that I would pop into the thread and read the new posts daily and it would give me that little extra umph when I needed it from time to time.

In some of my daily visits to the r/loseit thread, I read stories of people who were raised to have a “clean plate mentality”, some posters even having been made to remain at the dinner table for hours as children, until they consumed every scrap of food on their plate, even if they were overstuffed, “Because there are starving children in Africa.” Does this sound familiar to anyone? Are you walking to the fridge right now? Are you opening your snack drawer? Was that a bag of chips I heard? Maybe just stop for a second and have a drink of water instead and know you have a friend in your corner on the other end of this post who wants you to know that you are a miracle. You are good enough. You are loved. Food is meant to nourish your body. It is not meant to be an emotional coping mechanism.

Stories such as the one mentioned above made me realize how much of an influence your learned eating habits from childhood can affect your relationship with food as an adult, not to mention your relationship between your eating habits and your emotions. If “cleaning your plate” prevented punishment as a child, I imagine it can be really hard to reshape your eating habits as an adult. I, thankfully, was not raised with negativity around food like that. Reading through the loseit thread, however, I learned that some people are fighting these really negative emotions and memories as they try to navigate nutrition and reduced portions. Sometimes feelings of sadness, boredom, loneliness, and inadequacy can signal as hunger which can be really confusing if you don’t have a handle on your true physical hunger cues. Despite this, those weight loss champions of Reddit are still losing. They can do it. They are doing it and that’s badass as hell. 🏆

While physical conditions, illness, medication and age can all play roles in how difficult approaching weight loss can be, I am convinced that a lot of what leads to obesity is not these limitations, but rather the lack of understanding when it comes to the basics of nutrition and understanding your physical hunger cues versus your emotional hunger cues. For instance, in my Reddit visits, I learned that it is news to many finding out that drinks such as soda have calories. This always seemed like common sense to me, but I have learned that very few things actually fall under the realm of common sense. So much of our habits are learned. Parents have the job of passing on their habits to the next generation. It’s helpful when those habits are healthy, but unfortunately, that’s not always the case. Sometimes you have to ask yourself the tough questions. You have to pay attention. You have to learn, yourself, and guess what? You can do it.

*If this post resonates with just one person, it will be worth me sharing a picture that I was very hesitant to share here. So much has changed since Chicago, but that really is where this all began and I am so grateful for the whole learning experience for which this picture was the catalyst. Thank you for reading this post and for reading all of my posts that served as little dopamine hits throughout this life-changing ride. You are so appreciated.

Nostalgic Posts · Poetry

The Adventurers

Beth DeFries1 Comment

We live for adventure, you and I.

We live for it here,

for each step, each breath, each song

sung along to in the kitchen, the shower, the hallway,

doing laundry and dishes that have to be done.

Life is a beautiful mess with you.

The mess just means we’re living.

We wear out our shoes and our jeans,

our socks and our old tee shirts.

There’s sand in the bath, hair on the sinks, and trash in the waste baskets.

We live and it shows.

It sounds and it looks and it smells like us here,

as it should,

as we’d live it.

We crave the smiles and expressions,

the weekend mornings spent lounging,

reading books and articles,

watching shows and “content” and DVDs,

playing games about planes,

even booking tickets on real ones, every so often.

We capture little moments throughout the day

and keep the ones that stick to make us smile later on.

We savor quiet nights, cooking aromas, and sampled tastes,

the smell of sunscreen and oatmeal in the mornings,

cold cream, soap, and toothpaste at the end of the day.

We capture visions from hilltops, from mountains, 

climbing up the little bumps on the world

to soothe our hunger to explore.

We store them in our heads and in pictures,

file them away for use in our dreams, our memories.

We make shadows in the sun,

heat at our backs, giants on pavement, 

their footsteps synchronized with our own,

tagging along on our meandering journey.

We set our sights on now and tomorrow and the next day, 

only looking far ahead when it’s practical to

which, let’s face it,

you do for the both of us, oftentimes.

We are an amateur cover band with no audience, 

singing bluegrass, indie, rock, and pop

to the tiles, the walls, the car windows.

We are background noise you only get on the hundredth listen,

wandering a broad and varying soundscape.

The music is often on, it seems,

but sometimes there’s silence and we like that too.

There’s sleep 

and days full of nothing

but sitting with you on the big blue couch

in this place where we live for the adventure that’s living,

in this place where we live,

you and I.

Mental Health · Poetry · Social Media · Travel

On Crickets and Fireflies

Beth DeFries3 Comments

I was reminded last week, by some truly lovely friends, that a handful of people actually read this. They brought up that I’ve been “pretty quiet over there” for a while. I was surprised that anybody noticed, to tell you the truth. I’ve been a little blocked with the personal stuff lately, see, or maybe just a little more reluctant to share for worry that people aren’t interested because that’s how it seems when you send personal writing out into the world and get crickets back. It’s pretty quiet from where I sit too sometimes. That’s just part of the process though, I tell myself. If people want to engage, they will. If they don’t, they won’t and that’s just fine. I need the outlet either way sometimes, the one way radio, so to speak.

The inspiration for the stuff that seems to do well with my readers on here, whom I don’t actually know- poetry (which still surprises me) dried up soon after I nixed coffee over two months back, which I don’t really understand, other than to know that I’ve never felt more emotionally stable than I do these days. Wouldn’t it be nice if the urge to write some rhymes or freeform comes back and I get to keep this nice, calm brain? Is life that good? I sure hope so.

It’s been hot here in NJ for the past few days after feeling like March for weeks beforehand. I was tired of the rain and the cold, but I wouldn’t mind if the cool, stormy weather came calling again, looking for a place to crash after a flight delay.

We took a trip to Miramar Beach, FL this month. I didn’t write about it and I probably won’t beyond this. It was restful and fun with a lot of family time that made me smile and a few dips in the turquoise Gulf that’ll have me missing that beautiful, warm water with each icy plunge into the Atlantic this summer.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, I was lucky enough to see some really wonderful friends last week, then some more later in the week, one of whom I hadn’t caught up with in many years. I’m pretty terrible at keeping in touch, it turns out, other than writing here and even that’s not been so good lately. I don’t even use social media anymore. It felt too inauthentic, the line between “friends” and strangers too blurred.

When I’m with my people face to face, I try to make up for lost time. It’s always so refreshing to see a familiar face, to hear their laugh or tone of voice, or to catch the unique little mannerisms or humor that make my loved ones who they are. It’s like watching fireflies in the indigo night, little blips of brilliance that transform the dark to magic.

I hope you are all happy and staying cool and thank you, as always, for reading. And thank you, Jean, for calling me out. I needed it. 💖

Books · Cozy Posts · Health & Lifestyle · Travel

May Postcard

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

Well, hello, hello there, friends. I’m sipping decaf Lady Grey tea on the blue couch this afternoon, craving some cozy on a bit of a blustery day. Decaf- because too much caffeine makes me crazy and tea because I’ve nixed coffee once again, hopefully for good this time around, but more on that later.

There is writing and travel planning to get to. My unfinished library books were keeping me from both the past couple days, so I returned them. I figuratively hit pause on the last book of Stephen King’s Dark Tower Series as getting through this last one is proving to be a bit of a slog, not to mention a nightmare inducer. It’s a good story and well-written, of course- just very, very, very long, and very, very, very vivid and I am learning that my overactive imagination doesn’t pair well with reading horror. I figure I’ll get back to it eventually and finish up strong. I just can’t say when. So that’s a we’ll see.

I need something less horrifying, but equally good- some Maeve Binchy or some Tana French, perhaps. A re-read, most likely. My re-reads are the coziest books in my collection, the ones that bring me back to memories of reading them other times before, some of them multiple times before. They are old friends on the shelf, the slowly decaying glue of their spines, one of the most reassuring smells in the whole world. If joy was a smell, it would smell like used books.

There is a map of Montreal in my head that I need to sharpen. The lodging is booked, a pretty apartment near Chinatown and Old Montreal that I imagine I’ll write about in a few months time. The next things to plan are the sights, activities, and eats. Will I try one of Montreal’s bagels, I wonder? They are boasted to be better than New York’s, which is pretty hard to believe. Another we’ll see (but probably- I mean; who says no to bagels?)

On the subject of bread, I’m thinking back to our last trip to the Québec province, a core memory of which was the picnic basket delivered to our hotel room each morning filled with fresh fruit, orange juice, croissants, pain au chocolat, jam, and coffee. Yum. I think this is what I am craving most from a trip to Montreal, coffee aside, because the little things make me disproportionately happy and croissants happen to be a big, little thing for me.

Since learning how to eat “normally” last summer, there have been far fewer croissants, but that just makes the times I do have them even more enjoyable. Being down almost fifty pounds and still being able to eat croissants, guilt-free, is a pretty amazing feeling. There is power in control and understanding just as there is enjoyment in reasonable indulgence. You have to live well in more ways than one in order to be happy and it helps to have a handle on how to do that in regards to food and nourishment for almost a year now.

That brings me to coffee. Coffee, which I quit for five months from last May to October. Coffee, which I reintroduced, thinking there’s no harm in one cup every now and then. Then, there’s no harm in one cup a day- two even. For me, I think there might be.

I’ve wondered for years if I have anxiety. Now, I’m wondering if it was just the coffee. I don’t have a diagnosis and I am not a doctor, so really, don’t listen to a word I say on this. I only know me and how I react to the stuff. I’ve noticed, though, that since quitting coffee over a month ago and cutting way back on caffeine in general, my emotions feel much more regulated and my focus and productivity- much sharper.

Even last time when I gave up coffee, I was still drinking multiple cups of caffeinated tea per day. When my caffeine intake reduced even more, the feelings of anxiousness quieted down. My thoughts aren’t constantly racing. I have enough energy to get through the day without having to battle fatigue with a stimulant. I’ve got to say, that feels like a pretty big win.

There is one thing that seems to have gone with the caffeine, though, and that is the poetry. Hopefully that’ll come back when its ready. Another we’ll see, I guess.

Anyways, time to get back to other things now. I know it’s been a while since the last post; I just didn’t know what to write. This probably wasn’t for everyone, but it’s what I could manage and I hope that’s fine with you all. Thanks for reading, as always. All’s well here and hope it’s just so wherever you are.

-Beth

Books · Cozy Posts · Nostalgic Posts

March Postcard

Beth DeFries1 Comment

Dear friends,

We woke to mild temperatures and a low-lying mist this morning, not so different from the ones that I remember from our past trips to Ireland. Today is St. Patrick’s Day, so it seems fitting that the weather should jog my memory of one of our favorite travel destinations. The clouds have lingered into the early afternoon and the Atlantic is molten steel, capped with cotton.

Feeling culinarily ambitious and craving hearty fare for later on, I headed out to the grocery store first thing this misty morning to pick up the ingredients I was missing for Guinness Beef Stew and Irish Brown Bread. The rich scent of simmering carrots, potatoes, onions, garlic, and beef mingle with that of Irish stout, red wine, stock, and thyme. The smells are starting to escape the seams of the Crock Pot lid in thin breaths in a successful effort to permeate the kitchen.

The brown bread’s baking in the oven, adding the sweet dryness of toasting flour into this afternoon’s scent medley. My hands feel soft from mixing and working the dough, something I haven’t done since we lived in Brooklyn. As I turned and folded the sticky dough on the floured counter, I thought of our old kitchen on Union Avenue and realized something. We’ve had our home in New Jersey for five years today.

When we lived in Brooklyn, I had maybe four meals that I would make on rotation, having limited cooking skills and even less patience for meal planning. Irish stew and brown bread was one of these meals and I’m sure we both grew tired of it toward the end of our time in New York. It feels nostalgic now, however, to make it here for the first time. It feels festive and like an appropriate meal to celebrate five years of living in this beautiful place together on this gray, March day.

While working in the kitchen earlier, I also couldn’t help but think of the improvements we’ve gained in our cooking skills over the past five years. We went from cooking tried and true recipes maybe once or twice a week to cooking from an expansive variety of options three to four times a week.

The kitchen has become a space for creativity in our home, for trying out new recipes and having them turn out more than half decent, most of the time at least. It’s a space for surprising ourselves, for building confidence, and for drinking red wine or a cold beer while stirring simmering concoctions in many pans and pots all going at the same time.

I enjoy the sensory experiences of cooking- the scents, the sounds, the colors. My favorite, however, is the warmth. There is the warmth of the stove burners as they glow red, the warmth of the preparing meal simmering away, and the warmth of the oven and it’s golden light as I open the door. Speaking of- the oven timer’s beeping which means the brown bread’s finished baking, so I’ll get back to this post in a moment.

The bread is golden and ugly and rugged, just how I remember it. 🙂

Speaking of ugly and rugged, I resumed my quest for Stephen King’s “Dark Tower” last week, digging in to Book V, The Wolves of the Calla, after a months-long break from the series. This one’s a continuation of King’s behemoth, western-style, adventure tale with his characteristic visceral descriptions and unparalleled creativity for the dark and disturbing. It’s far from cozy though, and I think today is a day to lean hard into cozy, so I’ll take a break from Roland and his ka-tet’s adventure in favor of one of my dad’s recommendations instead, P.G. Wodehouse’s Mulliner Nights.

Just a few minutes more until I can slice into the brown bread and see how I’ve done this time…

Upon post-slice review, I think I could have baked it for five minutes less, as it was a little more crumbly than I remember, but it will do just fine with a pat of Kerry Gold Irish Butter and a mugful of Oolong sips for now. At dinner later on is when it will really have a chance to shine, dunked in savory stew, soaking up all the hearty flavors to make for a delicious bite. Now, I’m craving that cozy reading escape before getting back to work on some fiction of my own.

I hope this post added a little warmth to your day, wherever you are. And to my friends and family who celebrate, wishing you all a very happy St. Patrick’s Day. I hope you have a festive evening whether it’s out at a pub, listening to Celtic music at home, or indulging in a hearty meal paired with an Irish stout, lager, ale, or whiskey. Thanks so much for reading. I hope you’re doing well. 🙂

Sláinte,

Beth

When You Were
Grief & Loss · Nostalgic Posts · Poetry

When You Were

Beth DeFries5 Comments

You were pine scented card stock

dangling from the rearview mirror on elastic string,

packs of tissues strapped to the visor, 

and a little American flag fixed to the rear antenna-

when you were.

You were cans of Pepsi, 

cigarette butts in ashtrays all around,

and sweatshirts printed with cutesy cats, bears, and flowers.

You were snores on the sofa with the TV on loud-

true crime stories,

Irish folk songs, 

and the turn-dial TV,

bright white sneakers with shamrock laces

or American flags.

You were transitional lenses slow to adjust,

hair mousse, painted nails,

and yellow American cheese wrapped in paper and plastic from Acme.

You were egg drop soup, custard cups, and the corner store.

You were microwaved mugs of Lipton black tea, 

Oh When the Saints Go Marching In blaring on your hip,

God Bless America in light snow that February.

I can hear it now.

You were popular, authentic, and distinct.

I still remember the smell of your house,

that shelter for wayfaring family and friends, decade after decade.

It’s someone esle’s home now.

I wonder if you visit.

I still feel the icy shock of the kitchen tiles on bare feet in the mornings,

the twinge of fourteen years gone by with no new memories of you.

Still, we were lucky.

You were here for a while.

You were ours

and you loved us

when you were.

Health & Lifestyle · Healthy Habits · Mental Health · Minimalism

Reflections on My No Buy Month

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

The house is a mess today. I’ve decided there’s nothing wrong with that and I don’t plan on cleaning much. Maybe tomorrow. And that’s a hard maybe.

Yesterday was tough. February’s been a little tough so far, actually, but I think I’ve walked into some realizations, some signs marking the next turnoff to get back on the right track. I’ve got the GPS volume turned up high so I don’t miss it!

I completed my no shopping challenge with success in January and welcomed February with relief. I think I threw some stuff from my Amazon wish list into my cart at like 12:06AM on February 1st and immediately hit Proceed to Checkout. Granted, these purchases were needs rather than wants, but still, pretty embarrassing in hindsight that it only took six minutes into February to shop. Anybody else like this? If so, hope’s not lost! First, though, some background.

I quit coffee altogether for five months this past spring and summer. Before that, coffee was definitely something I relied on. I understand caffeine withdrawal like a pro. I’ve had splitting headaches that I didn’t understand until it hit me that I hadn’t had my coffee in X amount of hours. The fix was easy and all too accessible. Coffee is something I consume in moderation now, like everything else in my diet, and I try to remember the sense of dependance, anxiety, and physical discomfort that coffee represented for me in the past when I relied on it too much.

Hitting Proceed to Checkout at 12:06AM on February 1st and the subsequent dopamine release I experienced reminded me of those accessible caffeine fixes. Maybe shopping wasn’t just a habit. No; I recognized a problem.

Not buying stuff in January felt freeing. I wasn’t waiting on packages or tracking shipping. I didn’t have to drive anywhere to drop off returns. I didn’t have the shame I experience from the buy and return cycle. In January, the saving was the addiction and it felt great and I’m not just talking about money. Think about the time, the energy, the decisions that go into the cycle of shopping, or any bad habit- for that matter. And yet, shopping, once an available outlet again, overtook that sense of peace? Why? I had to get to the bottom of it.

I allowed myself to buy a few needs for the first few days of February, but soon found my wants encroaching. Precious time was lost to the scroll and limited mental energy- to decision fatigue. I have what I need! I tried to shout it in my head, but it came out meek. I preferred how I felt in January. I wanted that peace again, that time, that energy. I set a modest budget for the rest of the month for shopping, wondering if maybe the total deprivation of January was what led to “the itch” to shop as soon as January ended.

Now, let’s talk yesterday. Yesterday, I made a pact with myself to nip this habit in the bud and replace it with more constructive practices. I found myself distracted throughout the day with the craving to head to Marshall’s to buy things that I don’t need. Why? Procrastination, discomfort. When we have things that are difficult that we are supposed to be doing, it is uncomfortable. Discomfort is trigger numéro uno for me when it comes to giving in to bad habits. I learned that in my diet. I learned that in my creative pursuits. Heck, I’m writing this now and it’s not comfortable. I get help out of reading things like this, though, so in hopes that at least one of you will too, here are my reflections on the matter.

Yesterday afternoon, I got dressed with the thought of going to Marshall’s while simultaneously warring with myself to not go to Marshall’s. I left my home and went to my car. What are you doing? Just where do you think you’re going, missy? I said to myself. I got to the first stop sign and told myself, go for a walk instead. Get some energy out. Get some exercise, and maybe this idiotic craving will go away or at least become less noticeable.

By the magic of the gods I listened to me; which doesn’t happen nearly enough, I am sorry to say. I went to the park and started my walk. I ran into a woman I now know by name as I frequently see her on my walks. She said hi and called me by my name and said it was good to see me. That little bit of connection, that little tiny bit of recognition made me smile. I wouldn’t have gotten that at Marshall’s and I would have been short one smile yesterday. Thank you, Pamela.

I walked for about forty-five minutes and as I did, my thoughts turned to things other than shopping. I thought of minimalism and frugality, of mindfulness and the people in my life. I thought of the things that bring positivity and things that bring the opposite. I thought of things that fall into both categories- the people too. I made a mental list. At the end of my walk, I felt calmer. I went home and did some writing I’d been putting off. I watched an old Kate Kaden video on frugality and minimalism. I read some posts of Leo Babauta’s on his blog Zen Habits. I inched toward my center again. I felt my feet firmly on the ground.

This past year, I have learned a lot about myself, accepted a few glaring shortcomings, and been hit by realizations that probably could have been addressed by going to therapy at some point in time, but hey, maybe someday. And that’s a hard maybe. It takes a brave soul to speak your truth out loud to a real life person and I don’t know if I’d exactly be sorted into Gryffindor any old day of the week. I tend to internalize and the wisdom dawns slower, but it dawns all the same.

If you are a person who struggles with addiction and would like help, I hope you can recognize the strength that comes with reaching out to a loved one, a friend, a professional, a support group, heck-even reddit. There is not shame in seeking support and you are absolutely worth others’ time and energy.

Thanks for reading, friends. You are so loved and appreciated. Wishing you a February full of strength, clarity, gratitude, and all the good things! 💖

Cozy Posts · Health & Lifestyle

January Postcard

Beth DeFries1 Comment

Dear friends,

Someday it will stop being cold, but for right now, it’s January in New Jersey and that day is likely a ways off. Sigh.

I’m still going strong on not buying unnecessary things this month, despite a few temptations, but am taking it day by day, with every day successful, so far. I am not spending on wardrobe items, coffee shops, housewares, or decor this month. I have what I need and am beyond grateful for it.

The ongoing fires in southern California remind me that true need is much more basic than what many of us deem necessary in today’s world. Family, friends, health, shelter, clothing, food, water, clean air, safety, and enough money to sustain these needs. Everything else is extra. I feel like it’s easy to forget that sometimes. It’s easy to take these things for granted through the constant buzz of consumer culture that we are bombarded with daily in the US.

I’ve been wandering a path of change over the past seven months and have learned that change takes patience and patience takes willpower. I challenge myself to exercise willpower every day in the challenges and changes I have made because they are good for me.

Exercise is tough in the winter compared to the warmer months. It takes extra willpower to get outside for a walk. It takes even more to stay outside as long as I should. Today was a weigh-in day and another loss. Being down 45 pounds since June is good enough motivation to bundle up and get a whole mess of steps in. It’s also much, much colder in winter though without my former layer of squish. I’ll put an extra sweater on and take the chill with gratitude.

It’s an Earl Grey day for tea and I’m sipping in my writing spot on the big, blue couch. A maelstrom rages in the dishwasher and the dryer’s humming in the laundry room – my domestic soundtrack for the afternoon.

I took two books out of the library last week and haven’t started either, despite being sure that I will enjoy both. Maeve Binchy and Judy Blume sit beneath the lamp on the wooden bench that my dad made whispering, “Write. Read.” It’s probably rude to ignore your idols, so, sorry ladies; I will aim to do some of both today.

Bit of a ramble today, but if you are reading this, I hope you are cozy and warm. If today’s a tough day, I hope something has yet to happen that makes you smile. If it’s a good day, then-yes! Go you! 🙂 As always, thanks for reading.

Love,

Beth

Health & Lifestyle · Healthy Habits · Minimalism

Gratitude

Beth DeFries2 Comments

It’s January people and boy, oh boy, does it certainly feel like it here in NJ! I’ve got my warm socks, a chunky sweater, and a big hand-knit hat, that my sister in law made, to keep me nice and toasty while writing this. These comfies are adding a little extra security too as I’m not quite sure yet where this post is headed.

This morning, I put away the Christmas decor and the living room feels a little empty in a good way. I’m positive toward negative space. It’s easier on the eyes than our little tree with its warm white, twinkle lights. It’s easier on the mind too and I needed to get back into a writing headspace. The holidays were beautiful and festive and temporary and today felt like the day to store them away so they feel special again come next winter.

On New Year’s Eve, following spending a bit more than usual on shopping in December, I decided I would challenge myself to do a “no shop month” in January. It’s been a week and I’m finally starting to feel like I will actually be able to get through the challenge and possibly even stretch the end date. I don’t want to spend like I did in December, mostly because there is no need to anymore. It all comes down to gratitude, which I’ll get into more in a little bit.

Through the years, I have developed a strong understanding of my personal style, not to say that I have excellent style or anything. Style is subjective. Style can change based on different factors and experiences. The purpose of style is to send yourself out into the world feeling confident so you can accomplish big and little things without feeling self conscious or uncomfortable because of what you’re wearing. Everyone has a sense of personal style whether you recognize yours or not.

I may think that I dress well, but somebody else might disagree. I try not to concern myself though with the somebody else-s of the world when I put an outfit together. It doesn’t matter what somebody else thinks about my clothes so long as I like what I’m wearing and it makes me feel capable and confident. It’s when my clothes aren’t doing that anymore that indicates a time to take a step back and re-evaluate my wardrobe.

I have come to learn that many factors can influence personal style such as personality, budget, availability, occupation, hobbies, and, of course, size and appearance, among others. Back in the spring, I had a personal style that I understood cover to cover. I knew what silhouettes would flatter and conceal, which colors and patterns disguised the areas I preferred not to advertise, and which fabrics hung just so and made me feel like the best version of me.

My appearance has changed a little bit since spring and many of my old favorites don’t give me the confidence that they used to anymore. Many don’t hang just so or flatter. They swallow up a bit too much and there’s only so much a belt can do. Sometimes you just need to buy a few items to make you feel put together again. Hence, my December spree.

My body has a different shape now, a different influence on my mind than it used to, and a different influence on my sense of comfort and contentment. I am a different version of me than I was in the spring. Sometimes, looking back at old photos, it feels sort of like an out of body experience.

I am grateful to the former Beth for noticing the switch flip back in June when it came to questioning distorted hunger cues and unhealthy eating habits. That girl changed my life. I’d love to thank her, but I can’t. She is frozen in time in June looking at a photo of herself from a trip to Chicago, perched precariously on the precipice of something huge. I don’t know if anyone has ever shown up for me quite like that girl did. Certainly, no one has ever called me out on poor habits like she did. No one really could though, I guess. Some things can only come from within. Some things take discomfort to learn. Better her than me, am I right? I am proud of her though. I’m excited for her too, if it’s worth anything from where I stand in her future.

My body changed and my style floundered a bit for a while. It’s a weird feeling to be a size that I never fathomed associating with me. It’s a mental hurdle and a new adventure. I was never one for numbers. Now, I am Milo in Digitopolis with no Tock at my side. From bi-weekly weigh-ins to occasional measurements to money spent on new wardrobe items, it’s easy to get lost in the numbers, in the purchases and returns, in the bank account balance, gas mileage, and shipping and delivery dates. I need a break from numbers, frankly. The fun of shopping can quickly turn into buyer’s remorse and more work in the long run and I just don’t need that right now.

This January is going to be for other things. My wardrobe has all the things it needs and more. There’s no need to shop. I have learned to listen to need over want with my eating habits so much so that I am confident I can do that with my shopping habits as well. This month is for focusing on travel planning and writing, for cozy nights in on freezing days, for doing puzzles with my husband, for bundled-up walks in the crisp chilly air, and for experiencing all of life’s little moments with the presence and attention they deserve. I have all I need. I have all that matters. I am abundant with gratitude and that’s something you just can’t buy.

Cozy Posts · Nostalgic Posts

My Desk

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

Well hello there, you! This morning, I am sitting at my desk in what we call “The Big Room”. The desk, a scuffed up IKEA dining table bought by Mike’s roommate sometime in 2011, has served many functions over the years and has more than a few scars to show for it. It is imbued with the soul that comes from years of multipurpose use. It has served as a dining table, a catch-all for clutter, a boardgame and puzzle surface, an art studio, an interview office, a Friendsgiving buffet, a Christmas tree stand, and a TV stand, among other things I can’t recall. I am sure it is embedded with heat stains and maybe even a little grease from Williamsburg Pizza boxes and the condensation of water rings from ice cold bottles of Lagunitas IPA and Bell’s Two Hearted, fresh from the bodega down the street on Union Avenue.

When we first moved back to New Jersey, we used it as our dining table for a little while until my parents visited briefly during the pandemic to drop off some essential supplies and my mom laughed at how small it looked in the space. And so, our little, old table was retired from high traffic use and replaced by a newer, bigger, blander model from Amazon. I squirrelled the old one away in the laundry room for a while until its current purpose dawned on me. Afterall, every writer needs a desk. Wasn’t I a writer once?

Nestled in the corner of the Big Room, topped with a jar displaying two Harry Potter wands that my cousin and her husband made for me, a rock my sister brought back from Ireland, some 40-watt soft-white lamplight, and a pink, paper box of my nana’s that contains my writing books, this space is my main access to creation. It is rare that I sit at my desk and feel any sort of writer’s block. It has helped me through blog posts, fiction projects, plot holes, a play, poems, greeting cards, resumes, cover letters, emails, and even text messages. When I’m feeling unmotivated and uninspired, the awareness to sit down at my desk weighs on me and pressures productivity. And, like the drunk, scarred, slob that it is, it isn’t quiet about it.

My Desk

I like writing in the Big Room with the curtains drawn and the table lamps on. It’s cozy and dark and when I turn the heat up or bundle up in chunky-knit sweaters and sweatpants with a mug of tea near at hand, it’s even warm. Perhaps the best characteristics about the room however, for the purpose of writing, are that we don’t sleep in here for much of the year and that I can close the door to distraction.

In his memoir, “On Writing”, Stephen King mentions the importance of writing a first draft with the door closed. I am easily distracted and when my focus is interrupted, it starfishes onto something new and the suction can be a force to be reckoned with. If I am sitting up in the main area of our home, my closed door is represented by a large pair of headphones. That being said, being able to close a physical door comes in handy for me.

The Big Room is usually where we put guests when they come to visit. It has more space for luggage, kids, and pets. It even has a desk and a comfortable chair. I originally intended for the Big Room to be “our room” and hung our two framed wedding pictures on the wall, but by the time it got really cold our first year of living here, we learned pretty quickly that the little room holds heat in much better and so we make an annual migration in the fall and spring between the two. And so, our guests are stuck with us looking all glammed up when they stay in the Big Room. I guess I’ll just apologize for our not looking quite that pretty all the time!

Anyway, I’m using this post as a warm-up to jump back into a fiction project and I feel like it’s time to switch gears now. I’ll take a little break and make some tea and then come right back and get to work. Old Pizza Stains McDenty Face has me on the clock and my attention’s good and starfished.