A Letter to Myself: The Gym-Go-er

Dear Me,
You realized your first semester of college that you liked working out – go you! That’s great. Then life started getting in the way, and you weren’t able to go since before finals of the same semester. Now it’s the beginning of the second semester, and you have eighteen credit hours, an honor society, and your own mental health to look after. Not to mention some semblance of a social life, which normally is reduced to pizza and a movie with your best friend on a Friday night (because Saturdays and Sundays are for homework).

You’ve been down on yourself recently, and that’s okay. You’ve been eating everything that you can get your hands on (which varies from day to day), and just this evening your dad asked you if you’ve been to the Rec. recently. You said no, but that you’ve been meaning to. However, the thought has only crossed your mind a handful of time since classes started. The truth is that you just haven’t had the time to think about it.

But tonight is different. You realized that you missed it, and you asked yourself why. Some part of yourself says to lose weight (because you still hate your body, even though you’ve made progress on being nicer to it), but the biggest part says that it’s much bigger than that. It’s more important than that. You like going to the gym because it makes you stronger. It makes you feel better, mentally and physically. It makes you tired. It makes you feel like your body is owned by you instead of drowning you.

What is there to do?

Be patient with yourself. Make time for the gym, when you can, and try not to stress about it when you can’t. Eat when you have time because God knows you don’t have a lot of time these days, and some days you might overdo it – indulge some times! But don’t take that feeling of pride for your body go away. Own it. Whether you reach that goal weight by the end of the semester or not: Own it.

Love,
You.

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The Art of Leaving

You’ve grown up being left behind. Everyone has because everyone leaves. Everyone leaves in one way or another, and they stay in small ways because of the marks that they make in your life.
They die, but they’ve left memories.
They break your heart, but they don’t take your feelings with them when they go.
They tell you they love you, and the words travel on the wind.
Then one day you realize: that’s you. You’ll be leaving soon and staying in some way, and it breaks your heart. You know how that feels, but to be the one to finally do it seems exciting. You mourn and rejoice at the same time. You realize it’s easier than you ever would have thought.