I. AM. ENOUGH. (or am I?)

I am a failure. It’s not certain that I have failed, but I am nearly 100 percent sure that I have failed. On one hand, I feel ashamed. Embarrassed. Humiliated. Ridiculous. I feel like an impostor. The number on the scale looks back at me and taunts me, but the last few weeks, I feel like it’s been laughing at me. Reminding me that I am in impostor. 

On the other hand, I’m reminding myself of how far I have come. And I don’t mean just the weight I’ve lost and the number of pounds that have gone. My habits have changed; I’ve made exercise an integral part of my life (finally!) and realized that I don’t live to eat anymore, but I eat to live. I’ve gotten rid of some of the negativity in my life, including negative people, a negative job situation, and I might have even learned to love myself again (or for the first time.)

But the one question keeps nagging at me, is it enough? I want to believe it to be true, that I AM Enough. It’s become my mantra since a friend from high school reminded me so encouragingly and eloquently in March that I am enough and more than a number on a scale. It was solidified as my mantra when another friend sent me a bracelet with those very words inscribed after she had read my blog about it. It serves as a happy reminder that I am enough. But still, I doubt. Still, I feel like an impostor.

Losing weight has been an extremely emotional journey for me; perhaps more emotional than I ever gave it credit for. I’ve been spending months trying to put my finger on it, and this week I finally landed on how exactly I felt- like an IMPOSTOR. To be honest, I’ve always felt this way. I can remember as a child when I got praise for something or – mainly for good grades – or achieved an academic success, that someone was going to figure me out and uncover me as the fraud I really was. I’ve felt this way literally all of my life, and I think it’s a big reason why I’ve never been able to keep the weight off despite having lost weight several times before. Even now when I open my eyes in the morning I have this fear that I’ve put the weight back on and I won’t have any clothes that fit.

In a way, the weight I carried has masked my insecurity. And in turn, I was highly insecure about the extra weight I was carrying. That’s quite the vicious cycle! But as I near 41 years old, I wonder if that mask was the real me? Maybe the real me is fat? 

I also realize now that I’ve felt this way my entire life. I’ve never quite been able to put my finger on it, but I’ve never felt like I was enough, no matter how good I was at something or how good my grades were, or how much I was praised for it. I just keep thinking “someone’s gonna figure me out.”

A few years ago, like every woman in America it seems, I read Sheryl Sandberg’s pro-female, career gospel about empowering women to achieve, Lean In. I was hooked. It was there that I first read about Impostor syndrome. Impostor syndrome, also known as impostorism or the impostor phenomenon, is like self-doubt, but on steroids. It’s more than insecurity about yourself or your abilities. According to Harvard Business School Professor Amy Cuddy, it is a paralyzing fear that we don’t belong and that we’ve fooled people into thinking that we are much more talented than we actually are. Another facet is realizing others AREN’T impostors, and that they actually deserve to be in a successful situation, oftentimes over you.

Yes! Yes! All of this.Yes!! I had never mentioned this feeling to anyone, but I felt this way all of the time. About everything. And, I’d never heard anyone else talk about it. It was like one of my biggest secrets. I kept living in fear that I would be figured out. And I still do to this day.

But now, my feelings of impostorism are about being fat. Now, I am not skinny by any means, but I feel like any day I’m going to be “outed” as a fat person and wake up that way again. (I mean seriously, I wake up in the morning and one of the first things I do is feel my stomach.) I still feel like an impostor, just a skinnier one. Fat covers up so much other stuff, stuff I didn’t even realize I was feeling.

Now, back to the weight loss journey – I’ve had a huge realization! I’ve realized I’ve been afraid to be skinny for years. I know that may sound crazy, but I got comfortable being the funny, fat girl in the room. Yep, Rebel Wilson and Melissa McCarthy, if I too had been discovered, I would have killed it in Bridesmaids and Pitch Perfect.) I learned to hide as a fat girl, which is very ironic, because you are so physically visible to people, but so often overlooked. You can pretty much be invisible if you want to me. And a lot of times, contrary to my extroverted personality, I wanted to be. Frankly, I figured out a long time ago it was easier to be the fat funny girl, than to be the fit, in-shape skinny girl. People just expected less of you. They expected you to make them laugh and you would always be there for them (because where else were fat girls gonna be on Friday nights?)

I feel like I’m rambling a bit, but lately I’ve been trying to process the emotions I’ve had on this journey. And I have this nagging feeling that I am not enough. And that I never have been enough. And that I’m a failure. Even when I sometimes have a false sense of feeling enough, I feel semi-confident and then I’m knocked back down to the impostor that I am.

A couple of weeks ago I had a realization that led to a minor meltdown with Tom. Again, it was my impostorism creeping in. (Bless his heart, he gets to hear all of these, and he always knows exactly what to say.) One morning it occurred to me that I was going to fail. I wasn’t going to make my #100byJune24 goal. And I felt like I was going to throw up and have my heart stop beating all at the same time. How could I possibly fail at this? I was so focused! Hell, I’ve been blogging about it and even created a damn hashtag. But obviously, I wasn’t focused enough. I began to feel ridiculous, and maybe even start to ugly cry. Then Tom looked at me, put his arms around me and simply said, “so, you’ll just revise your goal. It’s just a number, Dawn. You need to focus on how far you’ve come… you’ve set this goal for yourself, no one else did. So you can revise It. You’ve lost 86 pounds, you look amazing, you look fit and are healthy. Who cares if you reach 100 pounds by an arbitrary date?”

Wow. Just wow. For a man who sometimes doesn’t say a lot, he said so much. He was right. And I wanted to believe him. I tried to believe him. But still, not making this goal makes me feel like a failure. Like an impostor. Not Enough.

I am very aware how ridiculous this all sounds. And like my other posts, I don't want your pity or for you to feel sorry for me in any way. I also know it doesn’t make much sense to most of you. I’ve revised my goal to #90byJune24, but it doesn’t have the same ring to it. It’s like 3^rd place or worse- a participation trophy or ribbon. And dammit, I wanted 1^st place. I wanted 100 pounds.

I know I will get there eventually and then I can make another goal. I’m still very much a work in progress. I’m reading up more on impostor syndrome and some tips to overcome the debilitating feeling of being a fraud. (I like these tips a lot https://startupbros.com/21-ways-overcome-impostor-syndrome/ ) 

But for now, I keep taking it one day at a time, and sometimes, just one hour at a time. I have made a vow to not get on a scale until June 24, and I hope it says I’ve lost at least 90 pounds. I also hope I don’t cry because it doesn’t say 100 pounds. But I owe a June picture (somehow May slipped by and we didn't get one), so here is one of me wearing my weekend baseball mom attire. Yep, those are those shorts I so desperately wanted to wear, and I look at them everywhere. I am a little obsessed with them right now. They are so comfortable.

June 10, 2017
Approximately 9 1/2 months post-surgery 

 I also wear my bracelet everyday (thanks Lynn Cooper!) It has been a nice reminder for me, especially when I think that someone is going to come in and "out" me as not being qualified for my job, not being as smart as they think I have been, or frankly, as being a fat girl, I look down and desperately try to remember that I am more than just a number on a scale. I try to remember that I. AM. ENOUGH. 

Conflict 2016: The Year of Celebrity Death, the Weird Presidential Election and Transformation for Dawn Ray of Sunshine

I am conflicted. On the surface (and in the record books), 2016 has been a shitty year. The US had the worst Presidential candidates and election situation ever. (Seriously, it was a bit like watching Jerry Springer on a worldwide scale.)  We've lost some of the best and brightest at their craft in Hollywood, Sports, Music and Literature: Prince, Muhammad Ali, Craig Sager, Carrie Fisher, Debbie Reynolds, George Michael, Glenn Frey, Alan Rickman, Harper Lee, Joey Feek, Nancy Reagan, Merle Haggard, Gordie Howe, Anton Yelchin, Pat Summitt, Garry Marshall, Garry Shandling, Steven Hill (Adam Schiff on Law & Order), Gene Wilder, Jose Fernandez, Arnold Palmer, Gwen Ifill, Florence Henderson, John Glenn, Alan Thicke, I know the list goes on...

By all accounts, it's been shitty. And it seems if we are able to make it through the next 2 days of 2016 without any more deaths, we will be lucky. (The dark humor side of me wishes I had been in a version of Howard Stern's "Celebrity Death Pool" because I could have made some serious coin.) Okay, I don't mean to make light of it, but if we don't laugh about it, we will cry ourselves into 2017. 

But for me, 2016 has been life-changing. And frankly, life-saving. And not just physically. Sure, I made a huge decision to have gastric sleeve surgery. I've lost about 70 pounds and I'm exercising on a regular basis. I've completely changed my outlook on food and finally come to grips with why I eat as well as what I eat. (It is still sometimes a struggle, but I am very aware of these things now, whereas I couldn't say that before.) But as much work as I've put in on the physical me, I've put in as much work on the spiritual and emotional me. It's the me you can't see upon first glance, but trust me, she's in there and she's very different now. Early in the year, I decided to rid myself of some toxic things in my life. Everything from negative self-talk to negative and toxic relationships in my personal and professional life to impostor syndrome. (I still suffer from that and that's another blog post for another time, but I'm working on that.) 

In January, I really began working on ME. Even though Tom has been telling me for years that I needed to take care of myself, it finally started to sink in. Y'all know I'm hard headed and it took a while for that to sink in!! So I started the journey of self-discovery and frankly, I didn't like what I discovered. So I set out to change it. I started the gastric sleeve journey (a LONG journey to surgery) and then I began examining every aspect of my life. I didn't go and broadcast this work to anyone, not even to Tom. But I needed to find ME again. So I began to listen to my conversations and daily interactions with people -- and not just listen to wait for my turn to talk, but really listen to understand and learn. I wanted to know how people viewed me, and that included my own family, especially Tom and my kids.  I stumbled a lot, heck, I even cried some. It wasn't always pretty, but it was enlightening. There were some things that were said to me (either blatantly or in passing) or things I read that had a profound impact on me. They have stuck with me, and probably always will. Here are a few to note: 

"WOW! What a great laugh you've got. I've never heard you laugh like that before!" This one seems innocent enough and was just an observation from one of the baseball dads from Tripp's baseball team while we were all at the beach together, but it was like taking a punch in the gut. (And I'm so grateful he said it.)  I love to laugh. I live to laugh. It's who I am. I love to make people laugh. I love to make my kids laugh. Laughter is the best part of life. People used to tell me all the time what a great (loud, obnoxious) laugh I had and how it was infectious. I hadn't heard that in years. So when he said it, it hit me in the face, hard. I realized I hadn't heard that in years. And frankly, I hadn't laughed like that in years. It caused me to ask Tom about it. And he agreed. He said I don't laugh like I used to anymore. And he was right. I didn't. I vowed then to find my laugh again. (So thanks, Collins Day. You are appreciated.) 

"You can't be a man. Be a woman. It's powerful business when done correctly." This is a quote from Mad Men. Several quotes from Mad Men appear on this list. I watched the show in it's entirety at the beginning of 2016 and it had a profound impact on me in both a personal and professional sense. (Truly, it's in my top 3 shows I consider to be the best shows ever made outside of Seinfeld: Mad Men, The Shield and Breaking Bad.) . The quote is from Bobbie Barrett, who was the wife/manager of the obnoxious comedian Jimmy Barrett, who did the VO work for the Utz Potato Chip account at Sterling Cooper. She was talking to Peggy Olson. Peggy was a young, naive sort at the agency, and one with whom I identified with greatly. She began as a secretary, answering phones, but showed a penchant for copywriting and worked her way into one of the most valuable employees at Sterling Cooper. (She also had the most bad ass scene I've pretty much ever seen in a TV show...) 

Everything about this scene is bad ass. Peggy's growth as an advertising executive AND as a woman is summed up in this 25 seconds. Her cigarette, her sunglasses, and her NSFW Japanese porn painting epitomize the swagger she carries as she walks into her new role at McCann Erickson. This scene, and the growth of the Peggy character, influenced my life this year in so many ways. Bobbie is telling Peggy that she doesn't have to be like a man to get noticed at her job. She needs to understand men and how they think and operate, but she has an immense power as a women and she should use it. WOW. Very heavy and very true. I've tapped into my inner Peggy Olson many times this year, and intend to keep doing it. 

"Etre bien dans sa peau," (French for "to be well in my skin"): I am not even sure where I saw this (likely Facebook where all wisdom can be found these days :)) but it stuck with me. I was extremely uncomfortable in my own skin and I have been for years. This little French phrase has taught me to just be comfortable with who I am, and not worry about who I'm not. I haven't perfected that yet, but I'm working on it. 

"I'm calling to let you know you've been approved for gastric sleeve surgery." That little sentence changed my life. It was a huge leap on a journey full of liquids, baby foods and purees for a few months, but a leap for which I am so very grateful. 

"I'd love to offer you this job and have you be a part of our team." Such a great phone call to receive (and it was so perfectly timed!) In November, I joined the team at EdR. It's a great chance for me to lead their communications and marketing efforts and be a part of a company that is redefining collegiate housing. 

"We need you to write us a check for $3,000": I won't get into the details that are behind this comment, but it speaks to the incompetence some people (and companies) possess. And it was a defining moment for me. Thanks to the urging of my supportive husband, I refused to just "write the check" and demand documentation for other's mistakes. He reminded me that I'm not here to clean up the mistakes due to other's incompetence. Also, it was a reminder that I am a decent, honest person. (That's always a good reminder!) #notmyproblem


"People tell you who they are, but we ignore it because we want them to be who we want them to be." Mind. Blown. Right?!??! Why did it take a fictional male chauvinist character on a TV Show to get me to understand this? People show their true colors to you all the time. We just choose whether to see them or not. And damn, some folks have really showed me their true colors this year. A few showed me how truly selfish they really are and how they were only out for themselves. They showed me their arrogance and their blatant disregard for other people's feelings (including mine.) Of course, not all people are like this, but some really showed their true colors to me this year. Or better yet, I finally began to see them. 

"If you don't like what's being said, change the conversation." Sure, it's been said before by others, but it stuck with me when Don Draper said it on Mad Men. We are in charge of our destiny and how others view us. We are ultimately in charge of that conversation and changing that conversation if we don't like it. This year, I've worked hard at both. And I think I've changed the conversation on many fronts. 

"Sometimes things just don't work out." This is one I actually said to someone, and it was a defining moment for me. Nearly two years ago, I took a leap of faith and took a new job. I stepped out of my comfort zone at Hilton and went into healthcare. And you know what? It didn't quite work out as planned. And that's okay. Not everything works out all the time, no matter how much we want it to. (Took me until I was 40 to figure that out.) 

Now I know this list looks like a lot of self-empowering quotes that make me look like I have all my shit together. HAHHAHAHAHA!! Far from the truth. I have stumbled quite a bit this year and I most certainly will in 2017 and beyond. And I'm still my worry-wart self: I worry about my youngest child and how he fits in socially; I worry about his attention span and his maturity level even though he is wicked smart; I worry about the fact that he shows no interest in riding a bike for himself and question whether we should have held him back a grade earlier on because most of the kids in his grade are nearly a year older than he is; I worry about the fact that we just put $5,000 worth of  braces in my oldest son's mouth; I worry about how we are going to get both boys to practices and get school and studying done and how we can do all of that while working and not going insane. I worry about what we are going to eat for dinner and what three bites or so I'm going to have for dinner; I worry about when I'm going to go to the gym; I worry if I'm a good wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend. I worry about the violence in Memphis and if we can overcome it; I worry about our great nation and how divided we all are and if we can survive the turbulent election and the upcoming inauguration. I worry. 

So on paper, 2016 was shitty. So much death. So much weirdness in the world. So much animosity and violence and not enough love. So in that regard, it was shitty. But it was also transformational. In 2017, I'm choosing to change the conversation. I'm choosing to channel my inner Don Draper and Peggy Olson and be who I am and make no apologies for it. I'm choosing to show my true colors and be sure to sniff out others' before I invest my precious time in them. In 2017, I'm continuing to choose ME (and Tom, Zane and Tripp and Mama Sue and others I hold dear.)  And I'm going to laugh. I'm going to laugh the real, infectious, loud and obnoxious Dawn Ray laugh. 

And if that bothers you, then too bad. Je suis bien dans ma peau. And that's #notmyproblem (nor it is Peggy Olson's.)