I don’t know when it happened. If it was abrupt, or if it slowly faded out of my priority list.
I remember growing up and always playing outside as a young kid. I got older, and I was always involved in sports. I absolutely loved to challenge my body physically. Learning how strong my muscles could really be. Learning how strong my mind could really be.
I worked out and pushed myself at least 5-7 nights a week for as long as I can remember.
Once I was out of school, I still enjoyed to keep myself in shape. Not only did I feel confident with my body, but I also had the smallest amount of stress. Things were still stressful, don’t get me wrong. Money was tight, I worried if I’d be able to keep on all the utilities, keep my phone on, I had debt collectors calling me everyday… But I would take that stress with me to the gym, and after a good session of purging all of my emotions through the sweat leaving my body, and the pain burning in my muscles, I felt better than ever.
I felt content knowing that I could only do what I was able. Things would eventually work themselves out, and I genuinely was happy with life.
A little over two years ago I even started working at a gym as a trainer, and I absolutely loved it! I felt like that was the perfect job for me. I couldn’t get enough of it. Not only was I in a position to keep myself feeling and looking good, but I also had the opportunity to help other people that wanted to make a change. It was humbling to know I was helping these people stay motivated and confident. They weren’t the fastest, or the strongest, or even very coordinated, but they never gave up. They always left feeling amazing, and that was my favorite part of that job.
I hadn’t worked there but even a month when I found out I was pregnant with my son. My man and I weren’t planning on having a baby, but none the less, we were. I had so many different emotions. I was so thrilled that I was going to be a mommy. I was scared because I didn’t know if I would be a good mom. I was nervous because he and I weren’t really making a comfortable income. We were living paycheck to paycheck.
We knew that if we were already struggling, adding a baby into the mix would put us under in the way of financials.
Since my dream job was paying me less than what we really needed, we made the hard decision for me to leave and go back to the job I really didn’t like because the money was better.
So fast forward to my pregnancy… I held my full-time position as a server, so I was still keeping myself moving, but I wasn’t working out anymore.
Fast forward to when I had my son… I stayed home with him for 8 1/2 months (I was lucky), but I still didn’t work out. I was exhausted from lack of sleep, my body was doing weird things, and I was in a twilight zone as far as me going through life. Being a new mom didn’t seem real at times, and I was mildly depressed. Not to self-diagnose, but I think I had a bout of postpartum depression.
Fast forward to my son being 1 1/2 now, and I still don’t work out. I love my son with all my heart, and I can’t even believe I had a life before he was here. I seriously feel as though my life has really just begun… But I feel like I’m just now sprouting out of the baby blues (can postpartum depression last this long?).
I’m growing more unhappy with the state of my body as well as the lack of motivation I’ve had for so long.
It’s not just working out.
I used to love to cook. I used to keep up with the housework and feel productive. I used to enjoy getting out and doing things. I don’t perk up to do any of those things now.
My motivation for everything has been dormant for so long now, and I feel like it’s going to be a struggle for me to get myself back to where I want to be.
I want to be the mom who dresses my son in cute clothes (he’s only going to be small for so long). I want to be the mom who does fun crafts with him. I want to do so many things, but I can’t find the will within myself to do it.
For the last few weeks, I’ve found myself feeling more determined, but I can’t seem to push myself just one step further to actually do what I’ve put off for so long now.
I’ve communicated with my man here lately that I want us to motivate each other. I want us to push each other to do better. I want us to challenge one another.
I can’t rely on anyone else to get me where I want to be, but when someone is holding me accountable for something, I’m more likely to find the will to get it done. At least until the motivation from within me is a permanent fixture.
The time is now, and I only have myself to compete with.