I filled out a questionnaire today.

I watched a video for one of those fitness plans that claims it has it all, right?

It started with a quiz, and then there was a video with answers to all of my problems. It prompted to sell me a million and twelve products like they all do at a significantly discounted price and sure, I considered it and thought it might help.

Maybe it will.
But this isn’t my first rodeo.

I’ve participated in fitness programs, diets and fads almost my entire life. I’ve purchased the packages from beach body and slim n six and all the others that claim they’ll help me get the body of my dreams.

What I didn’t expect?
I didn’t expect to be on the verge of tears trying to figure out what my favorite meals were or because I was trying to define my why for considering the program.

Listen, I’ll be the first to admit that I’m depressed and overweight.

But when I read the questionnaire and tried to fill in those answers I realized that I’ve been “eating healthy” so much that I don’t know what I consider my favorite meal. I realized that I don’t even eat enough in a day. The suggested calories alone in the video were far higher than what I consume in a day, or even two. Food doesn’t make me happy. It doesn’t give me an emotion that I can remember a meal and be like “omg, that was the best thing I ever put in my mouth.”

When I tell you I typed out the following phrases multiple times, only to erase them because they sound so dumb…

– People enjoy food?
– What’s your favorite meal? Add it in, I’ll try it.
– I’m sitting here trying to remember what foods I have eaten and enjoyed.
– How do I tell you that I have only eaten chicken, brown rice and mixed veggies for the last 4 months, with a hint of fast food here and there? Or that if I want to spice it up, I add black beans…
– Is it sad that I can only tell you about the new meals I have tried because I signed up for a sponsorship for a friend with Hello Fresh and that’s the most exciting meal idea that I can come up with?
– How do I tell you that even fast food joints don’t have what I want food-wise.
– As I’m sitting here, I’m trying to think of something, anything that resembles a “non-healthy” meal that you could use to encourage me with this “diet plan” of yours.
– Food is a chore so therefore, I don’t have a favorite I can tell you about…
– Does fruit count?

I think the questionnaire sat open for 30 minutes. Maybe longer.
I don’t know what I enjoy.

And not just with food.

I am but a shell.
I go through the same motions, every day.
I tell you I’m good, or I’m fine, with a genuine smile, but I’m hiding the fact that I am numb. So numb, I can’t even tell you my favorite food.

I put that I love fruit, by the way. That was as thorough as I could get for the questionnaire because I immediately drew a blank and I lowkey have no idea what foods I love.

The real question is when did I become like this?

Was it after 75Hard, when I followed a program to the T and lost 45 pounds only to gain 50 pounds back over 2 months?

Or was it when I committed my every waking moment to helping others and doing everything I could for them, only to put myself on the backburner once again?

Maybe it was when I realized that I fight a losing battle with weight, every day. Or the fact that people only judge me for my size when I have so much more to offer.

Perhaps it was when I was 11 and thought I needed to eat a certain way and exercise every single day to be this skinnier version of myself so that people would love me when in reality, I wasn’t fat at all. But my 11 year old mind was so consumed with my ex step dad leaving me because I was a hormonoal teenager and he was “in love” with his girlfiend. She only wanted his “true” biological kids as her family, though. Not me, the one he’d raised from birth.

If I could go back to my younger self, I would tell her that food isn’t an enemy. That life is fucked up and short, and it isn’t about her outward looks. That even though 80% of the people in her life have left her up until now, there are still people in this world that love her and don’t care what she looks like. They just want her happy. I would tell her that it’s okay to laugh out loud, even if people judge her for how she laughs. And that it’s okay to speak her mind, especially about food and exercising. I’d tell her she doesn’t have to be afraid of everyone and what they think. That she doesn’t have to please these people. They can stay, or they can leave, but that doesn’t define her.

The people that stay, they are the ones that want her to enjoy life. They want what’s best for her and support her in her dreams and goals.

Even if it’s something small like remembering her favorite meal.

Moral of my story, y’all…
Fuck society.

Embrace who you are.
Know your favorite fucking meal.

Because life is too god damn short to not know what meal you’d eat every day if you could.

Oh No Crying GIF by CBC - Find & Share on GIPHY

The Choice

Dear Diary,

Sometimes, I really hate telling the truth.
It’s not so much that I can’t. More no one wants to hear it. At least, not the way that I have to say it.

Today, I have to give a speech concerning my stance within the magical vs. non-magical realms and substances. If I tell the truth, there’s no going back. The other mages, wizards, and witches will want my head for leaking out important information of our kind and the ones listening may not even buy that I’m telling the truth in the first place.

Not to mention, my parents will kill me.

We’re supposed to keep this world secret, hidden from all who would desire what we have. There’s the covenant to consider, also. I’d be breaking about a hundred rules. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do here.

And if I cave to what we’re supposed to do?
Behave how we’re naturally taught to react.

I give way for more criticism, allow for judgment to pass on my kind, and people will go on living without the actual knowledge of what lies behind the shield. We’ve done it for years, so why do I care so much? It’s not like my destiny is written in stone. This isn’t my burden to carry.

If I don’t, however…
Who will?



Raine rolled onto her back searching the ceiling in her room for inspiration. There was no way she felt comfortable speaking about her kind, but the topic was assigned, and she was left with one choice. Part of her wished to be like the other kids. If she were, she could take the topic and go either way without any additional consequences.

But you’re not normal.

Raine released a sigh. Shaking her head, she answered herself with, “I know” before looking at the clock. She gathered her things then left for school, a knot forming in her belly. “Whatever happens, happens. Take it with a grain of salt. Or something like that.” Her eyes focused on the sidewalk lines as she passed them, allowing the loneliness to sink in. Before long, she arrived at school with more uneasiness than when she’d left the house.


Raine glanced up and noticed Melanie, her best friend since second grade, running along the fence. “Hey, Mel.” She tried to hide her gloom as she smiled. “Hey yourself. You look like you’ve had zero sleep in like a week.” Melanie cocked her head and examined Raine’s expression. “What’s going on?”

“I-I don’t know,” Raine offered after a long pause. “I guess I’m not looking forward to this speech later.”

Melanie laughed. “Girl, you’ve got this. We’ve been debating since our mouths could move. Ask our parents. If anyone can argue a valid point, it’s you.” Raine knew she was right as they turned the corner onto Welsh St. “I don’t think that’s the problem,” Raine answered. “I think… I’m afraid I’ll tell the truth.”

Melanie’s eyes widened as she froze, her arm extending across Raine’s chest. “You can’t.” Raine took a step back, placing her hands on her hips. “Don’t you think I know that? But honestly, what choice do I have?” Their silence was interrupted by a boy on a red bicycle blazing past them. “You could choose to act like a normal person. Raine, what are you trying to do? Get kicked out of the coven? We’re hardly even in, to begin with.”

Raine kept walking. “And if I don’t, all of these people go on believing that magic is a myth. I make a mockery of the craft.” She shook her head. “I-I can’t. No, I won’t. I refuse to betray our heritage. The legacy.”

They were close to the school, reaching the edge of the parking lot. Melanie wrapped her hair in a ponytail. “Our elders put the shield in place for a reason. Maybe… Maybe it’s okay if the heritage and legacy only stay within the covens.” She offered a weak smile, but Raine couldn’t return it. “If I lie, I’ll hate myself.”

“And if you tell the truth, the coven will hate you.”

They were quiet the remainder of the way to the entrance. Raine chewed the bottom of her lip as they maneuvered through the other students to their lockers. Melanie squeezed Raine’s shoulder. “Just lie, okay?” She smiled one last time before veering off toward her first period.

Raine’s shoulders slumped. Isn’t honesty better?

The bell rang, and she headed to her class still unsure of what to do. Part of her wished she were still in her bed, under the covers. At least there, the weight of the world didn’t rest on her shoulders, and the fate of her position within the coven wasn’t left on the outcome of her speech.


Hey all!

As you may have already guessed, this is another blog challenge from Amanda. We were given three words: honesty, hate, bed. I wanted to take this another route, but Raine’s story really resonated with me in a way that may end up in a novel somewhere down the road. It may not be what everyone else came up with, but I can say that I am happy with how it turned out. I really hope you enjoyed the struggle she had in a way that I did and that it makes you wonder what will happen next. If it did, let me know in the comment section below. (:

As always, make sure to check out everyone else’s responses here, here {NSFW}, here {NSFW}, here and here.

Until Next Time, My Darlings,