New Blog: The Big Model

Hey guys! Long time now speak, for the best reason ever!

I’ve kind of stepped back to give myself the time and creative renewal to put together a blog that I have been dreaming of since beginning this blog.

My new blog is all about fashion, health, and body positivity; I couldn’t be more proud of it.

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thebigmodel.com is now live and I hope you guys will pay a visit and enjoy it as much as I’ve enjoyed putting it together!

Healthy and Skinny Are Not Synonymous

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A few months ago, I decided to stop fighting my body. As a woman that is 5’10”, a size 12/14, with a large body composition (yes, I really am big boned, seriously, buying bracelets requires elastic), I was very insecure with my size in many respects, and for years I could hear the guy I had a crush on in 8th grade asking me if I was a man. When you think of femininity and grace, most people wouldn’t think of a super tall chick with curves for weeks and a big (not necessarily fat) body. I really didn’t feel sexy, I honestly just felt like Khloe Kardashian in her chubby days; towering over everyone and struggling to be the “hot sister.”

Naturally, my first resort to sort out this problem was trying to get skinny. I totally cleaned up my diet an eliminated all added sugar, wheat, gluten, dairy, soy, and legumes. I bumped up my workout schedule, and guess what? Nothing happened. Well, nothing weight related. I did lose a few pounds, my skin cleared up, my mind was sharper, and I really did feel amazing, but that scale didn’t budge more than seven pounds, regardless of what I ate, for nearly six months. So then I began the fight with not only eating extremely clean, but also calorie counting. I guess this is a good time to tell you I was on the verge of a Britney Spears circa 2007 style meltdown all the time. I cut my calories from about 1500-1800 calories to about 1200 calories, and every week that I stepped on the scale or measured myself to find out nothing had changed, my family knew to hide the umbrellas in preparation.

I really did fight with my body for a long time, and then one day it hit me.

I am perfectly healthy. I eat better than I ever have, I exercise, and I keep my mind sharp and active…so what the hell is there to freak out about? A number? Someone to tell me I look like a woman?  I am running optimally, and this is what my body looks like. Even on a liquid diet, the smallest I’ll ever be is a size 8, maybe 10, tough shit. I could either embrace that or continue to lose my fight against how I am built.

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The decision to embrace my body changed my life. I decided to take my height, my curves, and all of my bigger than life-ness, and put it to work. As it turns out, there are people out there willing to pay me a lot of money for the things I spent nearly a year fighting. Case in point, I have wanted to model for years, but I always held off  until I was just a little bit smaller. After embracing myself, I walked into an agency and gave myself a chance. Initially, I lied and said I was a size 10, and my agent said “oh that’s a real shame. You are exactly what we are looking for. You’re tall, curvy, and toned… but you’re too small.”

I decided to cut that crap and told her to measure me. Long story short, I bypassed the 2-3 week waiting time necessary to deliberate whether they sign a model, and walked out that day with a contract.

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I took a chance on myself, I became the healthiest version of myself, and I stopped letting my insecurities cripple me. My relationship with food has changed as I dont live in a constant state of deprivation for the sake of being skinny. My relationship with exercise has changed because it is no longer something I do expecting to see some drastic change in my weight.I eat well to have nice skin, to feel good, to sleep well, and to think clearly. I indulge selectively, but carry no guilt afterwards because having one flan while on vacation in Florida (A MUST) might cause a small weight fluctuation (which used to panic me), but it will not undo everything I ate to build my health before then.

The reality is, my life has changed now that I live to be healthy and not skinny, because despite what society says, the two are not synonymous. 

Much love, 

Lucy Loves Life… and being the hot sister xx 

 

 

 

For “Call Me Caitlyn” Critics  

  

It is actually kind of depressing to watch people fight to the Facebook death, over whether not Caitlyn Jenner is a hero or an abomination for deciding that womanhood makes her happier. As opinionated as I am on the matter, I’m not looking for public humiliation; therefore I’d like to focus on a few things to consider before you become one of the keyboard warriors I am avoiding: 

  1. Technically, everyone is uneducated.

One of the first things I’ve seen people resort to is calling the person they are arguing with “ignorant” or “uneducated.” The truth is, when it comes to gender identity confusion, everyone is ignorant.

It doesn’t matter if you are a psychiatrist, psychologist, or some sort of mental health expert; because even with their countless decades of research, not even they know exactly what causes a person to feel brutally uncomfortable with their gender.

With that in mind, let’s think twice before we go verbally attacking someone’s opinion as you both critique the way a person has chosen to live his or her life.

  1. You can’t prove that it will truly affect your individual life

People have either embraced or detested the idea that Caitlyn is the “new normal”, and both sides will argue for reasons I cannot understand. Even if she gave people the confidence to believe they are normal, this does not mean that there will be some sort of transgender epidemic.

I hate to pull out the “I’m a psych major” card, but let me just say that Caitlyn Jenner coming out as a woman is not going to make you, your kids, your teacher, your yoga instructor, your pastor, you cat, or your hamster a transgender individual. Science has proven time and time again that if you or someone in your surrounding “normal,” questions their gender, you can be assured it’s not Caitlyn’s magazine cover that caused their confusion. Psychological processes are not contagious. Fact.

The reality is, that if Caitlyn does deeply distort the quality of your life, in my non-professional opinion, you may need to seek some sort of help, as it can’t be “normal” for this to be your biggest life crisis.

  1. Transgender is legitimate, whether Caitlyn is or not

So let’s just say that Bruce, now Caitlyn Jenner, has gotten some rockin’ cheek implants and a crackin’ rack for the sake of publicity. Does that really change that this is a real issue for a lot of people, up to including Caitlyn? According to scientists and researchers alike, this whole transgender thing, isn’t typically a cry for attention; actually, mental health specialists have screenings to make sure that it’s not.

So on that note, whether you agree with Caitlyn’s decision or not, why don’t we all take a second to acknowledge that someone out there, that many people have deemed “worthy” of believing they are gender confused, is reading what you have to say. “A real transgender” (whatever that’s supposed to mean) is seeing both the praise and hatred, both generally uneducated, and building or destroying their self-esteem based on that petulant Facebook argument. Female, male, or both… they are human, they have feelings, so let’s act like it, yeah?

  1. Being transgender is not synonymous with mental illness

Being transgender does not make you (insert mental illness), and (insert mental illness) doesn’t make you transgender. However, there is also no proof that people are born with gender confusion. So taking it back to point 1, no one knows what causes it, but I can assure you it’s not the text box definition of a mental illness. 

Okay, now that we got that out of the way, can we all stop misusing mental illness, because it only diminishes the severity of a very real problem.  I will treat someone with severe depression because they feel they belong in a different gender and their family hates them for it, I will treat someone who deals with anxiety because one of their loved ones came out and they don’t know how to deal with it, and I will treat someone that is suicidal because they hate the gender that they are…

But you can bet your bottom, I will never treat someone with “transgender qualities,” because quite frankly, their biggest enemy is the mental demons they battle when processing the very hatred I am discouraging here.

  1. Bruce becoming Caitlyn should make women angry with society, not transgenders.

Oh. My. Days. Don’t even get me started on the ridiculous amount of sexism that has clouded the Internet since she came out!

Why didn’t Caitlyn Jenner become a “real” woman until she got breasts and a makeup artist? Bruce came out months ago, but as soon as he got breasts, he actually became a woman and now the media feels the need to put her in the same stereotypical box they’ve put the rest of us in. I think that’s the real problem.

Bruce Jenner, a legendary Olympic athlete, with a dazzling athletic and business career. Caitlyn Jenner? A pair of boobs, a new woman in Hollywood to critique from head to toe, and no more talks of a dazzling career. No, now she’s a woman on the exterior, so we accept body shaming, name-calling and boiling her down to some twisted sex object… and that’s the people who “support” her. BRILLIANT.

  1. Tolerance goes both ways

Though you may be getting a feel for where I stand on this issue, I would like to remind both parties of a little thing called tolerance. “A fair, objective, and permissive attitude toward those whose opinion, beliefs, practices, or ethnicity, etc., differ from one’s own.”

Live and let live, and stop being so hateful when someone doesn’t agree with how you live. You think transgender is wrong? Awesome, but don’t get hateful when someone feels it is to be embraced. You think transgender should be accepted? Also awesome, but don’t get hateful when someone believes you are ruining society. Both are opinions, both should be respected.

  1. One man’s “filth” is another man’s hero

  

  
I see a lot of people outraged by the attention Caitlyn Jenner has gotten, and to an extent, I get it. However, bashing his bravery to compare it to an “American hero” is also crazy.

For nearly a decade people touted Lance Armstrong as the all American hero. A few years later, we all found out he was a conniving, drug addict, who took the moral low ground to all of his heroic conquest. A hero became filth in one Oprah Interview.

With that in mind, remember that what you may see as trash, may have given someone hope. No, she doesn’t have cancer, and no she wasn’t a veteran, and yes, those people can be seen as heroes; but maybe to the kid who is contemplating suicide because he can’t escape his gender confusion, she is a hero.

Maybe the first, semi-accepted sex change will give someone hope for life outside of that misery. No one is the perfect hero, so why bash someone who may be offering hope to those who struggle, as society tries to sort through something we know so little about?
There is never a reason to tear down another human being, not Caitlyn Jenner, and not the people that have an opinion. He became a she, and quite frankly, being hateful keyboard warriors is not going to change that. Everyone is entitled to an opinion, but do yourself and everyone involved a huge favor; truly educate yourself and see the gray areas. 

Not only will this help you in the long run, it will also keep you from being caught up in a stream of hateful conversations that serve no benefit to you or your cause. 

Much love, 

Lucy Loves Life… and those I disagree with xx 

Everything and Nothing

I am at the place where I feel like I know everything and nothing.

I have figured out my past relationship… Mistakes made, our personalities, many lessons of what I want and don’t want (but mainly don’t want), and it all makes sense now. In a way, I am at peace; yet I have found myself uneasy in a new relationship… I dont know what to expect. I don’t know how to feel, I don’t know which differences are good and which are bad, and I really have no idea what I am doing or what to expect.

No one mentioned the aftermath of healing from a heartbreak where you no longer act while comparing to the past relationship.

It’s literally as if I am entering my very first relationship, again.

 

Does this make sense? Or do I sound as confused as I actually am?

Much Love,

Lucy Loves Life…and sappy songs that make sense of life xx

We Teach Girls

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“We do a great disservice to boys in how we raise them. We stifle the humanity of boys. We define masculinity in a very narrow way. Masculinity becomes this hard, small cage, and we put boys inside the cage. We teach boys to be afraid of weakness, of vulnerability. We teach them to mask their true selves. By far, the worst thing we do to males by making them feel they have to be “hard;” we leave them with very fragile egos. The more ‘hard man’ a man feels he needs to be, the weaker his ego is. Then we do a much greater disservice to girls.

We teach girls to shrink themselves, to make themselves smaller. We say to girls, ‘You can have ambition, but not too much. You should aim to be successful, but not too successful, otherwise you will threaten the man.’ Because I am female, I am expected to aspire to marriage. I am expected to make my life choices, always keeping in mind that marriage is the most important. Now marriage can be a source of joy and love and mutual support; but why do we teach girls to aspire to marriage and we don’t teach boys the same? We raise girls to see each other as competitors. Not for jobs or for accomplishments, which I think can be a good thing, but for the attention of men. We teach girls that they cannot be sexual beings in the way that boys are. Girls grow up to be women who cannot see they have desire. They grow up to be women who silence themselves, they grow up to be women who cannot say what they truly think, and they grow up to be women who have turned pretend into an art form.

Feminist: the person who believes in the social, political, and economic equality of the sexes.”

– Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

 

My favorite quote: “A man who will be intimated by me, is a man I would have no interest in.”

If you have not listened to what this woman has to say, do.

Much love, 

Lucy Loves Life…and being high octane xx 

Cause You Gotta Have Friends

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When I get wrapped up in the hustle and bustle of life, it doesn’t take long before I begin to feel like I am completely alone. I have such big dreams that I am constantly working to achieve, sometimes I forget to stop and think, and when I do, it’s scary. Amongst people that are just as hustle-y and bustle-y as I am, I feel okay, happy even. It’s when I stand still and let my mind and true emotions take over that life begins to feel messy. Those messy moments make me feel the most alone, as the idea of sharing my mess with people that don’t understand can be intimidating and unworthy of the struggle.

In the last few weeks I dealt with the sad reality that I no longer had those people or even that person (not even one) that I could be completely honest with. Don’t get me wrong, I am not that girl who doesn’t trust anyone and takes ages to open up… I am very open and honest about most things as I tend to avoid doing anything I’d ever be ashamed of… but there is a difference between being honest and being understood. I can be open all day, every day, but it takes a special, friend worthy person to be understanding and be non-judgy-wudgy of my honesty.

In order to be non-judgy-wudgy, you have to be able to empathize in some respect, and I was beginning to think such a person didn’t exist anymore.

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Well, I think I was wrong. Though I met this lovely lady a few months ago, it wasn’t until last weekend that I realized she could be one of those people who understands.I understood her and could empathize with her struggles so genuinely, I knew there must be enough similarity to have hope in that friendship. It seems super crazy to feel as much relief as I do…but I have been made to feel crazy or completely misunderstood for so long, that it is a breath of fresh air to just share conversation over everything and nothing with no holds barred.

Two decorated lattes/hot chocolates, three-ish hours, and some deep yet lighthearted conversation later… I no longer felt as if the world was closing in on me. I immediately felt the comfort in knowing that all of the things that swirl around my mind are not only relatable but also acceptable. A lot of times I feel bad for thinking and feeling the way I do;  having someone that can empathize from their own experiences, is priceless. As a matter of fact, I felt relieved, rejuvenated, and like I may have just made a really awesome friend. A friend I can be myself with. No persona, no need to have all my poop in a group, and no perfection… just me and my latte.

There you have it, short and sweet. Tell me; when is the last time you had a relileving conversation? Who is your go-to person? Let me know 🙂

Much love, 

Lucy Loves Life, and pretty lattes xx 

 

 

Wake Me Up

Anyone else album stalk Ed Sheeran and slightly fall in love with him? I definitely did…

I think I’m in love with how in love he is with the girl he wrote this for. It’s profound, yet silly and personal to only her; does it get any better than that? He was so in love with the little things, like her eyelash on his cheek, and the way she flicks her hair off her shoulder, he makes it easy to remember feeling that way for somebody. They laughed, they were ridiculous together, and yet, their love was deep.

I think it’s amazing how he portrays all of that in such a simple, carefree song. My hopeless romantic self can’t stop listening to it because it’s given me something to look forward to. This song pulls up some intense memories, but so easily makes me see beyond the fear of happily-never-afters.I look forward to being the girl he wrote this song for who can say she hopes for fairy tales again.

I’ll give you guys a break from my mushy self, it’s pretty awkward, no?

Anyway, go get obsessed with Ed Sheeran. Let me know if you love this song as much as I do, or if I’m just insane for feeling all warm and gushy on the inside.

Much love,

Lucy Loves Life… and heart pendants xx

 

When the Word “Different” Became Scary

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I comforted myself with the idea that loads of people fall in and out of love all the time. Because of that, I assumed that love we had, the love I felt for him, would surely happen again. However, as I start to delve deeper into social psychology, and the minds of more mature, post-first-love adults, I realize something that has scared the crap out of me.

A lot of these “happy” couples are just people who settled much more than the hopeless romantic in me would like to acknowledge. I’ve talked to countless people, single, married, somewhere in between, and if they’re not with the one person that left a mark on their life, they can always name the one that did. Regardless of whether they split a week ago or twenty years ago, they were memorable to them, and never far from their mind. Even though these women used a million different words to describe that one person, it usually boiled down to that super cliché word that makes me cringe a little, soul-mate* (PLEASE refer to disclaimer).

A woman knows the face of the man she loves as a sailor knows the open sea. – Honore de Balzac

People and research say that it is possible to fall in love many times, but also that each time is quite different (even on a neurological level). It was this realization that shifted my fear… I am no longer afraid of never falling in love, I am no longer afraid of being alone; I am now terrified of being with someone, being in love, and still missing the one whose “different” I loved the most. I am scared of being that woman who remembers that one boy she would’ve given the world to, that she’ll never tell her husband about (I was depressed all day after that one).

Don’t get me wrong, in the many people I have talked to during my year-long search for post-breakup success stories, there were many who married or were currently with that one person… but for those that weren’t, the bittersweet stories of “what if” and “this one time” just seemed to be endless. The idea that it could be me some day is now all I can think about.

The very essence of romance is uncertainty ― Oscar Wilde

Luckily, I am young and the chance that he wasn’t that “one” is pretty high. It’s very possible that I end up one of those lucky women who will never have to deal with the decades of missing him. Yet, in the illogical, hopeless romantic part of my brain, I also know how possible it is for me to be the woman I met with a husband of twenty years, three children, and a photo of her high school sweet heart still tucked away in her wallet (annnd now I’m crying). My deepest fear is that those BS stories of true love, soul mates, and happily-ever-afters, are indeed real and I may have lost mine.

My soul can reach   ― Elizabeth Barrett Browning

What do you guys think? Do you have that one person? Are you one of the lucky ones? Do you believe in that one person? Do you have an pearls of wisdom for me? Let me know!

Much love, 

Lucy Loves Life… and “different” xx

P.S If you had any type of mushy emotion towards The Notebook, Titanic, or even Twilight …do not become a psych major… you will need counseling and gallons of ice cream. You have been warned.

*Disclaimer: I do not use the word soul mates in the sense that most would consider it. Believing that you can’t be happy with anyone but “the one” and that fairies and pixie dust will keep you together forever, that’s insane. When I use the word soul mate here, I am speaking in the context in which the people I spoke to used it, which is that one person they always remember. They were speaking of a person they worked through a relationship with that left a long-term love in their mind, they referred to the love “they loved the most,” or their biggest “what if.”

 

Getting over Shlomo (I’m baaccckkk)

Hey guys, I know it has been a while, and trust me, it wasn’t without reason. I’ve been through quite a bit in the last month, if you hadn’t guessed from my last two posts. I went through something that shattered the hopes and dreams I had for this blog.

I started this blog to chronicle the life of a girl that was getting over a break up like a strong, independent woman, that didn’t need that man. However, deep down, I had kind of hoped it would chronicle a strong, independent woman, that was going to follow all of her epiphanies and adventures until they eventually lead me back to my happily ever after, in London, with my boy (we will call him Shlomo).

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The day of my last blog post, that underlying dream was stomped into the ground, once and for all. Not because I am not going to London, not because I failed in what I set out to do (because I am still doing both), but because my knight in shining armor, was just another douche bag wrapped in aluminum foil.

The day before my last post, I went to bed with tears in my eyes because I missed Shlomo so much it hurt. I thought about how special he was to me, and how love like ours didn’t happen every day.

Well, that all came to a screeching halt the following day and I think it is fair to say that heartbroken was an understatement.

I talked to Shlomo after he had given me the “I’m super busy, I can’t even send you a text” speech for a month… and till this day, I wish I would’ve just declined his call. Why? Because it was in this conversation that he told me he could see his life without me in it (after I spent the night crying, because I couldn’t), he said that what we had wasn’t all that rare, and that he doesn’t really miss me all that much. I felt as if someone had punched me in the chest, I spent the night crying over a boy that I was just a cool side activity for.

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I will admit, I texted him after we hung up with the slightly dramatic words of a woman in desperate need of attention and affection. How did he reply? A verbal lashing with no semblance of an apology. He made the hurt I felt at his crass words, my fault…again. At first I was angry and hurt, but then I realized something… I am young, intelligent, ambitious, mildly attractive, and I deserve a lot more than that. And I don’t mean a better guy, I mean a better quality of life than the one I had chasing after someone who would never really love me.

I would’ve cut off my right arm just to see him smile, and after that little incident, I realized that I deserve more than a life filled with worry, anxiety, and the inability to share it with him because I knew he would punish me for it. I am difficult to love, I get it. I can be insecure, moody, irrational, clingy yet cold, and sometimes I am completely unable to say what I mean…but it’s who I am, and even though I strive to make myself better everyday, I am still human, and I refuse to be berated for it.

I have come to realize that the world is my oyster, and I don’t need someone that makes me feel like a worthless, pathetic woman, anywhere near my world.

 

So you see, I didn’t blog for a while, because a month ago, this blog post would’ve been about a girl who was heartbroken, yet again. But after a month to sort it all out…it’s about a girl who realized her worth and potential for a happiness.

Shlomo will always be special to me. He was my first in so many respects, and at the end of the day, he taught me just how capable of loving someone I really am.  I will never forget the happiness we shared together, and even though it wasn’t special or rare to him, I will always hold the (false) sense of unconditional love and security we shared near and dear to me, because at the time, it was magical.

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At the moment, I am a tad resentful, but maybe in another month’s time, I will think of the crazy in love, once in a lifetime, passion we shared with great fondness, instead of being unable to move past the fact that it wasn’t that way for him. He has moved on, he has found a girl that gives him everything I did, and it’s time for me to do the same thing.

I have a million different emotions towards this whole situation, some of resentment, some of regret, a lot of happiness, and even more bittersweet feelings…I will eventually get around to sharing them all, but I hope you guys understand why I needed to take a step back and catch my breath. I so appreciate your continued support and occasional kind words.

Much love,

Lucy Loves Life, with or without Shlomo xx