FATshion Journal Blog by Lilly

I find myself constantly apologizing for the following life choices: Being married and not having kids Being married to a skinny guy Being fat and being married Being fat and not giving a fuck  Going to Disneyland more than the average person "should" Wanting to spend time alone Laughing too loud Burping too loud Craving more time alone with just me and my hubby Referring to my furry kids as my kids etc etc etc And I am not apologizing to anyone in particular but in conversations and in telling about my weekends, my vacations, my time with my husband- I find myself saying sorry or having to explain my life choices.   And as it usually happens, (I get all reflective and shit during my birthday) and the stark realization is that I don't have to apologize anymore - not that I ever had to but the feeling of "needing to" is subsiding! My life with my husband and my babies is a life I have built for myself because it fulfills me.  We don...

We took a few pics at night and had to use a different exposure - so apologies for the heavy-filtered look;-) Okay... So if you read my last blog-post - THANK YOU! And it was pretty heavy - and thank you to EVERYONE for reading and reaching out!  I appreciate and love everyone who get and understand me as the kinda friend I can be.   On a lighter note, I've been trying my best to organize areas of my life that I have failed to keep organized. My calendar...  My thoughts... My shoes... And--- My Closet!  I've been impulse shopping and filled my closet full of "resort outfits"--- hoping, praying and waiting for a vacation or some type of getaway! And in anticipation of a VERY BUSY FALL I have been emotionally shopping rather than emotionally eating. (I've been experiencing REALLY bad cramps from overeating... Some of you are familiar with the saying: "When you're full but you keep eating..." Well, lately I've been eating past th...

Well, well, well... Look who done and fucked up again... I simply said, "I wanna matter to someone..." And the anxiety monster hit me, what irks me most, are people who throw themselves self-pity parties and play victims to circumstances they've created for themselves and when I feel like I'm becoming one of those people... I slap myself silly until I can "snap-out-of-it." And these last few weeks - that's been my struggle because I'm tired of being the listener, the compassionate one, the one who will be there for you even you're a complete asshole or a C U Next Tuesday... So I put my foot down and refused to be there... To be anywhere...  And my apologies for the foul language because my mental illness got the best of me these last few weeks and I am sick and tired of being sick and tired. You see, I have an amazing gift and a curse; in the crowdest of rooms, I can be alone. Being alone, mentally, makes me feel at pea...

Biscuit Home in Houston, Texas If you didn't already know (shame-on you because I've written about some of my mental-health struggles) about 6 years ago I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder; To put it in layman's terms I am a constant worrier and trust me, I am putting it lightly. My anxiety monster makes its appearance when money, family, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility overcome any "logical" way of thinking and as much as I love traveling,  my anxiety flares up the most during travel. About 10 years-ago, we went to Nicaragua for New Years and I became overwhelmed, manic, with a sense of an impending death, I purchased life insurance, left letters for loved ones and notes about funeral arrangements. Obviously, I didn't die not unless I did... And this is an alternate universe.. Whoa! That's be trippy... Any who, when our trip was over, I was happy to be home and secluded myself until school started. I sought to reclus...

Home Sweet Home - the streets that raised me are colorful So I've been talking my HusVinh's ear-off the last few days about a recent job-training session. We read a book titled  René Has Two Last Names/René Tiene Dos Apellidos   and because as luck would have it - I arrived first and was volunteered to read the Spanish version... And as always I butchered the Spanish language because I don't practice my Spanish enough (Non-Spanish speaking husband, non-Spanish speaking friends and family that understands and speaks English so I speak English 80-90%) Anyways, I digress... The book is about a young boy dealing with two last names and what that means in the United States of America. The teacher in his class decided to not read his last name and only calls on him as Rene Colato instead of Rene Colato Lainez.  The young boy describes it as if only reading one last name completely erases his other side of his family - as if he loses a whole other side of his identity....