How I learned to love my pale skin

I don’t remember when being pale wasn’t a problem. 

When I was younger, the threat of sunburn was forever hanging over my head. My mother was always coaxing me out of the pool for more sunscreen or - even worse - making me wear a t-shirt over my bathing suit. 

As I grew up, it wasn’t only that being pale was a problem but NOT being tan was a curse.

I remember a close friend in middle school excitedly reporting that my #1 crush might consider going out with me if I got a tan. The truly excruciating aspect was my reaction was one of excitement as well. It seemed doable. If I worked hard enough, surely even I could get a tan!

I’m assuming this experience, along with being surrounded by deeply tanned friends, is what led my 7th grade self to add “Get a dark tan” to her list of life goals. It is also what led me to try in vain all through high school to achieve that goal.

My best friend and I would lay out on my black asphalt driveway every afternoon. She would slather on baby oil and turn a deep dark brown after a few days. I would push the limits with 5 SPF tanning oil and check my swimsuit line day after day only to see the slightest change in pigment.

My mother (very wisely) threatened to take my car keys away from me should I ever so much as cross the threshold of a tanning salon. I still snuck two visits in during journalism camp (sorry, Mom!) where I spent my hard-earned money on 5 minute sessions - the max the owner recommended for me. I left the salon poorer, hotter, but no tanner.

It wasn’t until I got to college that my opinion of my skin began to change.  

Suddenly, I wasn’t the lone pale girl in a sea of tans. I had lots of friends with lots of different complexions and lots of concerns far beyond getting and keeping a tan. I’m sure there were girls I went to college with who went to the tanning bed but I don’t remember hearing them talk about it. The pursuit of the almighty tan just didn’t seem to be on anyone’s radar. 

My skin stopped begin a problem. 

Well, not completely. I still had to avoid sunburns and still for many years I tried to achieve “a little bit of color.” Tanning beds became passé, but self-tans and spray tans presented a seemingly acceptable alternative. After all, peers are influential but overcoming the steady beat of a beauty industry that tells you pale skin isn’t beautiful doesn't come easy.

Slowly a combination of age, maturity, and plain old laziness has produced my current state of acceptance. I love my pale skin and I could give two shits about a tan. I don’t even see it as a “problem” anymore thanks to my new favorite product OF ALL TIME - the rash guard. This little thing has CHANGED. MY. LIFE. Do you have any idea how much mental energy (not to mention money) I spent every summer trying not to get burned?

A SHIT TON.

Then, I met this wonderful woman at the lake one summer (wish I remembered your name special lady who changed my life!!!) who had on super-adorable rash guard from Athleta. She told me and my equally pale mother how much she loved it and suddenly it clicked!

I put my kids in this magical SPF clothing why didn’t I get one for myself!

Game. Changer. Now, I throw that baby on and go. If I’m out of the water, I sit in the shade or cover my legs with a towel. I also always wear a hat. And I am never, ever embarrassed. 

In fact, I’ve become a bit of a disciple about accepting the skin you’re in. I’ll never forget reading a fabulous post on Jezebel last year about tans entitled Tanning Is a Young, White, Female Problem. And It's Deadly. In particular, I was struck at the way the author’s criticism extended beyond the dangers of tanning to the idea that we all had to be tan.

“Where did we get this idea that fair skin is embarrassing, unflattering or a flaw in need of fixing by desperate means? By “desperate means,” we’re referring to baking in an indoor cancer coffin (a.k.a. tanning bed), lying unclothed in the blinding sun on a lava-hot lawn chair/trampoline/beach (a.k.a, sun bathing), paying good money to get hosed down with orangey-brown skin dye that sheds off in patches within 5-10 days (a.k.a. spray tanning), or slathering yourself in smelly orangey-brown solutions at home twice a day for two weeks while not touching any fabric or light walls for an hour because you will leave a distinctly “sun-kissed” look on everything (a.k.a. self-tanners).

I know what you’re thinking. “No one uses those sun reflectors anymore!” (And I hope you’re right.) And also, “You’ve obviously never tried [insert favorite brand] tanning lotion/spray/skin suit! Pasty skin problems solved!” But that’s all beside the point. The point is that tan skin is a manufactured beauty ideal, and people are literally paying for it with their lives, or at least with huge areas of skin and debilitating treatments.”

And she’s right! The beauty industry is making billions of dollars a year because they have convinced us our skin isn’t beautiful JUST THE WAY IT IS.

And that is Grade A bullshit. 

Thankfully, people seem to be coming around. The Atlantic recently published a piece entitled, The End of Tanning? Tanning beds are thankfully becoming a thing of the past but also the proliferation of pale skinned celebrities who embrace their hues seems to indicate a shifting beauty idea as well.

And I sure as hell hope so. Women have real problems - equal pay, work/life balance, lack of political representation, how to make Amy Poehler our best friend (wait, is that just me?) - BUT being pale is not one of them. 

Are you pale or naturally tan? Do you feel pressure to change the skin you're in?

P.S. Why how we view women's bodies matters and the importance of embracing our post-baby bodies.

Things I don't do

Three years ago, I wrote a post on Salt & Nectar sharing the tasks I don’t do as a mom. I was relieving myself of the guilt by announcing to the world “I don’t do these things and I don’t feel bad about it!” At the time, my list included cleaning my kitchen floors (because really that is a Sisyphean task if there ever was one), gardening, cooking, playing with my kids, and scrapbooking. 

The list has largely remained the same. I still don’t clean my floors. I still don’t scrapbook  or cook. I still don’t play with my kids. I have taken up yard work AND composting thanks to the generous help of family friends and a partnership with Ryobi (posts on that to come!).  However, overall, I continue to NOT do those things and have added to the list since adding another kid and a growing business to my life.

So, here’s my UPDATED things I don’t do list.

Watch TV.

When Nicholas lost his job, we cancelled our cable. We have a Roku box through which we can stream content on Netflix, Amazon, and HBO Go. We also get broadcast television and whatever content we can access on online, but no more cable.

Gone are long afternoons spent watching whatever the heck happened to be on TLC or HGTV. No more Real Housewives or Sister Wives or wives of any sort. It’s just too much work to hunt down crappy reality shows for a few moments of vegging out.

Now, do I still veg out by binge-watching series (Come back Orange is the New Black!)? HECK YEAH! But at least now there’s an end in sight with every binge.

I also still watch one to two shows live. Right now, I’m watching Mad Men and Game of Thrones. That’s it.

I went from watching several hours of television a DAY to one or two hours a WEEK.

Beauty Routines

It’s become my newest obsession. What else can I eliminate from my daily (or weekly or monthly routine) to save time and money?

Pedicures were the first to go. Last summer, I just decided my toes were going bare. No more finding time for an appointment. No more arguing with Nicholas over why it was money well spent. My friend suggested I paint my own but here’s what I discovered. I don’t care that much (unless it's a family event of course).

The sand felt just as good between my toes without polish.

Next up? Eyebrow maintenance. I’d already moved past waxing but had been going every couple weeks to have my eyebrows threaded. It was another item on my to do list. Another thing to spend money on.

So, I just stopped. I pluck occasionally but overall I’ve just let them grow. Amazingly, my husband still finds me attractive and no one has thrown rotten food at my face in disgust.

My latest elimination was blow-drying. I haven’t blown dry my hair in two years. Now, this is thanks in part to the bangs. And let me clear, the bangs get blow dried, but that takes 45 seconds not 30 minutes. My hair gets braided while it air dries during both winter and summer.

Do I get more compliments after getting my hair cut, when it is styled to the max? Yep. Do I care enough to add back in another half an hour to my routine? NOPE.

The best part is taking some things off the list has made room for others.

In the previous post, I talked about things I’d like to do in the future and I’ve actually made some progress! Sure, I haven’t learned to sew or bought a bicycle but we have camped (once but it counts!).

More importantly, I’ve joined the Charity League of Paducah and the board of the Oscar Cross Boys and Girls Club of Paducah. Volunteering my time with these two organizations has been immensely rewarding on so many levels and made me miss the reality shows and pedicures even less!

What have you eliminated from your life recently? What DON’T you do?

The Reality of This Moment by Leo Babauta

This was originally published on zenhabits and it was so incredibly beautiful I wanted to share it here. 

As you sit here reading this, pause and expand your awareness beyond your computer/phone … what is the reality of this moment?

You’re reading, and there are a bunch of other tasks you want to do on your computer, yes … but there’s also your body. How does that feel? There’s the area around you, perhaps some people around you. There’s nature nearby.

Take a pause to become aware of the actual reality of this particular moment.

As we go through our day, we’re often stressed because of all the things we have to do, the things we’re not doing. We worry about how things will go in the future, and procrastinate because we’re afraid of an overwhelming task. We feel we’re not good enough, we compare ourselves to others, we fall short of some ideal. We replay a conversation that already happened.

That’s all in our heads, but it’s all fantasy. The reality of this specific moment is that you’re OK. Better than OK, actually: there are so many good things to be grateful for, in this moment.

And there are the particulars of the moment that only exist, right now. The combination of sounds and colors and shapes and smells around you will never exist in this particular combination ever again. The way your body feels, the thought that pops into your head in the next moment, will never exist again, ever.

You yourself are changing all the time. We think of ourselves as one unchanging entity, but the self that you are right now is different than the one you were before you read this article. And that was different than the one who woke up this morning, because various things interacted with you to change you in small (or large) ways.

So the you that exists right now will change in a moment, from interacting with the particulars of the next moment. The you that exists right now will never exist again.

This is the ever-changing, impermanent nature of you. And in truth, every single thing around you is changing all the time, sometimes in less obvious ways. Everyone around you is changing. Each moment is a fluid snapshot of impermanent changing entities, interacting with each other.

That’s the reality of this moment. Don’t miss it.

And this awareness is available to you all the time. Throughout the day, as you start to worry and get lost in your tasks, ask yourself, “What’s the reality of this moment?”

She Let Go

She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go.

She let go of the fear.

She let go of the judgments.

She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head.

She let go of the committee of indecision within her.

She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons.

Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.

She didn’t ask anyone for advice.

She didn’t read a book on how to let go.

She didn’t search the scriptures.

She just let go.

She let go of all of the memories that held her back.

She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward.

She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.

She didn’t promise to let go.

She didn’t journal about it.

She didn’t write the projected date in her Day-Timer.

She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper.

She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope.

She just let go.

She didn’t analyze whether she should let go.

She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter.

She didn’t do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment.

She didn’t call the prayer line.

She didn’t utter one word.

She just let go.

No one was around when it happened.

There was no applause or congratulations.

No one thanked her or praised her.

No one noticed a thing.

Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.

There was no effort.

There was no struggle.

It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad.

It was what it was, and it is just that.

In the space of letting go, she let it all be.

A small smile came over her face.

A light breeze blew through her. And the sun and the moon shone forevermore…

 - Rev. Safire Rose

Why I go to therapy

Photo Credit: spinster cardigan via Compfight cc

I love therapy. I think everyone could benefit from therapy.

I tell everyone I know they should go to therapy. For my closest friends, the people I know and love and see struggling with everything from small issues to major traumas, I beat the drum of therapy until they usually relent and try it out.

Often, people will tell me a family member or spouse doesn’t “believe” in therapy. This particular phrasing amuses me because therapy isn’t the tooth fairy or Big Foot. I assure you it is real and it exists and there is a mountain of scientific evidence that proves it is beneficial.

Of course, I think when people hear therapy they picture a neurotic New Yorker in weekly sessions for their entire lives. I assure you this is not what I’m talking about. 

The first time I went to therapy was when I was first married and lived in North Carolina. I went for several sessions during which the therapist praised my emotional intelligence and resilience. Mostly, her praise was based on my less-than-genuine approach to our sessions and my desire to keep my most vulnerable moments to myself.

In other words, the first time I tried therapy didn’t really take. 

Often, I think people give up at this point. They weren’t ready to reveal or the therapist was a good fit so they give up. Don’t give up! Try another therapist. Or try another time but don’t decide therapy isn’t for you because it didn’t work the first time.

The second time I went to therapy was when I lived in Washington, D.C., while I was pregnant with Griffin. I have shared before that I was having intrusive thoughts about those I loved dying in tragic ways so I went to therapy to deal with those thought patterns before I started inflicting them on a teeny tiny newborn.

I was ready to be vulnerable. I was honest with my counselor. As a result, the approximately three months I went to therapy were incredibly fruitful. I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. I was able to examine with my counselor’s help why I thought the way I did and why it was damaging pattern I needed to address. 

There came a natural end to the therapy when I felt like I had gotten real and productive help and was ready to move on.

All of this is on my mind because I’ve recently begun therapy again. After the tragic loss of my friend and the upcoming addition of a new member of our family, I thought it was time for what I like to call a “tune up.” 

I recently went for my first session, cried pretty much the entire time, and felt better immediately. 

I wish I could describe what it’s like to sit and share your trials and tribulations with a perfect stranger but I can’t. I wish I could adequately explain how something that seems so intimidating can (in the hands of the right therapist) be so comforting but I can’t.

All I can say is no matter how close you are to family or friends or your spouse therapy is different. The person who is listening to you isn’t invested in the outcome. They don’t want to “fix” you or talk you out of your stress because it’s painful for them to see you suffering. They are a professional - just like a doctor or a mechanic - they can notice the patterns and help you find a solution. So often the solution is just diagnosing the problem to begin with.

So, if you’re struggling with something or on the fence about talking to a professional, let me be the one to say - therapy helped me and it can help you, too. 

Have you ever attended therapy? Did you find it helpful?

This post originally appeared on Salt & Nectar.

My hands-off approach to medical care

Photo Credit: Alex E. Proimos via Compfight cc

Another day, another study telling us something we previously considered “safe” is anything but.

This time a study out of Denmark found a strong correlation between acetaminophen use among pregnancy women and higher rates of attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) in their children. We all know correlation isn't causation, but still here's a drug that is considered one of the safest on the markets (although I would have disagreed with that assessment before this study) suddenly seeming more complicated then we first thought.

I have a deep distrust of medication or medical treatment considered “safe” during pregnancy. It is unethical to test things on pregnant women, no one is going to sign up to use themselves and their babies as guinea pigs. Therefore, true safety can never really be established. However, it goes beyond that for me. If I'm being honest, I have a deep distrust of medical care generally.

I'm not a Christian Scientist. I'm not a conspiracy theorist who believes the government or corporations or Barack Obama are out to drug us up. I'm not out to get rid of doctors or hospitals all together.

If I was in a car wreck, I'd want to go to the hospital. If I was diagnosed with cancer, I would want the best doctor around. I think our medical care system does a pretty dang good job of taking care of people when there is something bad wrong with them.

However, I think our medical care system does a dang near terrible job of taking care of healthy people, particularly pregnant women. Pregnancy is not a trauma or an illness. The common cold or a fever or your average virus is not something that needs to be beaten into submission with medication and medical intervention.

The human body is an amazing creation, which I believe – if in an average, healthy state – can handle most of the things thrown at it. However, taking your trust away from the power of the human body and placing it completely in the hands of a human being, who can be distracted or misinformed or downright wrong, is a dangerous proposition in my opinion.

First, there is the real reality of human error. Anywhere from 200,000 to 400,000 people die every year in the United States because the flawed human beings making medical decisions just plain old get it wrong. That makes medical errors the THIRD leading cause of death in the United States! When you expose yourself to medical care, you take the risk that someone will make a mistake that could cost you your life. Plain and simple.

Second, even when these medical professionals make the “right” decision, there seems to be an assumption they are making this decision on complete information. However, they are NOT. In fact, they almost never are. Doctors who were telling their pregnant patients Tylenol was safe thought they had all the information, until they didn't. The list of reversals in medical knowledge is long and covers everything from the ancient practice of bleeding to the modern recommendation of a low fat diet.

We just don't know. That's why my threshold for any medical intervention or treatment with my own healthy body or those of my children is very, very high.

It's why my children aren't circumcised. It's why I give birth at home. It's why I rarely give my children antibiotics or medications of any kind. It's why I rarely take medications myself.

It's why last week when Amos had a febrile seizure the only medical intervention I sought was a five minute telephone conversation with my pediatrician. I won't lie and say it was easy. When I realized what was happening to my son, panic flooded every cell in my being. And despite everything I've said up until this point, my first and strongest instinct was to talk to my doctor.

Now, here is where my approach was probably a bit different. I don't trust him because he has M.D. at the end of his name. This is a doctor I have come to trust because his hands-off approach is almost as strong as mine. This is a doctor I have come to trust after five years of watching him trust the human body and distrust medication. This is a doctor I have come to trust because he will argue with me and debate with me and sometimes admit he just doesn't know the answer.

I didn't want any doctor. I wanted MY doctor. When two receptionists in a row advised me to call 911, I had to battle not only their voices but the panicked voice in my head to insist – to DEMAND – to speak to my doctor.

When he finally answered the phone, I burst into tears. “You're the only one I trust!” He assured me I was right. He told me my instinct was correct. Amos was fine and that the seizure was scarier for me then it was dangerous for him. In fact, it was the human body doing what it does best - protecting itself.  He told me the only concern was what was causing the fever in the first place but as long as I saw improvement there was no need to bring him in.

So, I didn't.

Instead of exposing Amos to the emergency room (and a mandatory meningitis test) or even the additional germs of the doctor's office, I opted for one dose of Tylenol and one dose of Ibuprofen before bed. He was on the mend by the next day and back to himself less than 48 hours later.

Fighting the traditional approach to medical care isn't always easy. My own personal philosophy has come after decades of educating myself and practice, practice, practice. I've learned what to look for in a doctor. I've learned how to say no to medical tests and medications, which is still really hard. I've learned to get second opinions from friends who are both medical professionals and lay people like me who think there might be a better way.

But I will say this, it might not be easy but it is worth it.

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Putting on the brakes

Once when reading an interview with the eternally fantastic Bonnie Raitt, I stumbled upon this quote. 

On her two-year hiatus:

Who would have thought that rest was a sacred act? A therapist I love said, “Only go as fast as the slowest part of you can go.”

It’s a lesson I have to learn over and over again. A lesson I learned again this week when struck with the stomach virus from hell.

We can have a to do list a mile long and a dirty house and twenty piles of laundry but if our body says no, our body says no. It’s unfortunate that sometimes I only slow down when forced to by my intestinal track because the truth of that quote goes far beyond the limits of our physical selves.

Recently, I was reading the equally fantastic Tara Sophia Mohr and she was discussing a recent article she’d stumbled upon entitled “12 Things Successful People Do Before Breakfast.” 

What was my first thought?

“Oh, I better click on that and start doing all those things!!!”

Ummm, no. Luckily, I decided to finish reading Tara’s post first and I am so glad I did. 

From Tara:

In a world, that tells us successful people DO, successful people ACHIEVE, successful people GO I am all to susceptible to believing that merely being or enjoying or breathing isn’t all that important.

But it is important. Sometimes it's important to rest. Sometimes it's important to watch A LOT of Downton Abbey (not that I've ever done that) and it's important to not then beat ourselves up for all the time we're "wasting." 

I think it’s especially important as parents.

For as parents, we are not only limited by the slowest parts of ourselves but by the slowest little members of our families. If you’ve ever tried to force a two-year-old to hurry up, you know the truth of that statement. 

Children will not be rushed. Children aren’t particularly great at doing, but they are stinking geniuses at being. Being in the moment. Being happy. Being with you.

Only go fast as the slowest part of you can go - be it your body, your spirit, or your toddler.

Don't wait for the stomach virus, people. Trust me.

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5 Powerful People Who Keep Me Motivated

It's that time of year. Time for resolutions and goals and reassessing what you do right and what you can do better. This is one of my favorite times of the year because I LOVE self-improvement. I'm a bit of a junkie if I'm being honest.

It probably all started in middle school when I read my first self-improvement book that recommended I list all the things I wanted to accomplish in my life. It was a comprehensive list that included Read the Bible (check!) and meet Dean Cain (still waiting...). 

From that very first list I was hooked and I'm always looking for big and small ways to improve my life. Over the years, I've found myself going back to the same experts over and over again when looking for inspiration. These are people that are also incredibly invested in the power of personal growth. These are people whose entire livelihood is based on their power to motivate. These people are my gurus. 

Gretchen Rubin 

In 2009, Rubin published her blockbuster bestseller The Happiness Project, which recounted her year long happiness experiment. For one year, she carefully examined and applied the science of happiness to see what stuck. I love this book so much that I re-read it every year month-by-corresponding-month. I have found that Rubin's approach of making small daily changes to impact your overall happiness incredibly useful and empowering. Not to mention, her honesty about her own weaknesses and challenges is completely refreshing. I read her blog religiously and can't wait for her new book on changing habits. 

Brené Brown 

When I first saw Brené Brown's TED Talk on The Power of Vulnerability I was completely overwhelmed by her authenticity, her insight, and her incredible compassion. I am a hard core devotee of her Daring Greatly style that embraces the idea that everything great in life involves overcoming fear and facing vulnerability. Every time she opens her mouth I learn a little bit more about myself and how to face all the emotions that come with being me. 

Michael Hyatt

Michael Hyatt is not for the faint of heart, but I promise you this - his positivity will wear. you. down. His goal is to "help you live with more passion, work with greater focus, and lead with extraordinary influence." He's not here to help you manage your emotions but help you manage your time and your work and your goals. He is my effeciency and productivity guru and I love his podcasts and blog for all the hardcore real-life tips he offers. 

Oprah

Duh.

Tara Sophia Mohr

I first found Tara Sophia Mohr through her 10 Rules for Brilliant Women. At first I thought she was your average inspire-business-women expert, but she has proven to be so much more. Better than almost anyone else she manages to address the socio-political AND emotional impact of being a woman in America today. She is the best combination of big picture insight and small picture advice. I absolutely love her. 

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