What They Don't Tell You About Losing Weight

Hey, readers.

I've tried to write this blog several times now, and have only been left with drafts in my archives for the last month.  This topic is very personal for me, as I'm sure it is to many of you as well.

I ran into my friend Stacie a few weeks ago.  Stacie is a photographer, videographer, and blogger for the Huffington Post.  She also has lost 150 lbs.  We stumbled into each other at a local hangout, and caught up outside the establishment.  The topic turned to the inevitable...weight loss, and how the world reacts differently to us now that we are smaller than before.  We were the only friend the other had who knew what it was like to be "fat shamed" and "skinny shamed" in such a short time span. That conversation has weighed on my heart ever since (no pun intended) and I finally believe I am ready to fully articulate what it means to me.

My journey began nearly three years ago.  I had moved out on my own and realized that if I kept eating out every meal that I would quickly be broke, and have to move back home.  Horrified at the thought, I looked up "cheap vegetarian meals" and somehow ended up down the rabbit hole of the online vegan community.  This lead to me watching the film "Forks Over Knives" and getting my hands on a copy of "Skinny Bitch".  I haven't looked back since.

At a size 16, and nearly pushing 190 pounds, I began my vegan lifestyle.  I started out puffy, with a large muffin top, terrible skin, cellulite, and a severe case of depression.  Today, I stand at 5'9" weigh around 125, and am a size 4/6. When I stand with my feet together, my thighs don't touch.  My cellulite is gone.  I now have muscle definition.  My depression has become so much better, as well as my overall health...all great things!  However, along with these vast improvements to my life, I had no idea that I had so much more in store for me.


At the beginning of my shift, I was in a relationship.  When I started to lose weight, he became terribly self conscious, and essentially kept me in a cycle that guaranteed no one would have the opportunity to look at me.  It was like being held hostage. Any time we would go out, someone would say "Wow! You look great! Congratulations!" and he would tell me he liked me better the size I was before, and I was more beautiful to him then.  It loosely translated to "I liked you better when you were broken like I am." I broke that off about a year after I started to lose weight.  I learned that misery does indeed love company. 

The stress I was under caused me a nasty case of adrenal fatigue, and I gained back about fifteen pounds. This sent me into a tailspin. How could I have gained back fifteen pounds? My entire identity had been wrapped up in Payton-who-lost-60-pounds-going-vegan. Not Sort-of-fat-but-not-as-fat-before-Payton! However, at this time in my transition, I have never been hit on, or asked out on more dates more.  I swear, men prey on women like this, sometimes.  That, or they sense a sort of desperation, or  someone who needs validation, or maybe they think a chubby girl is a safer bet. Either way, I was approached more at this awkward in between stage than any other time in my life.  Not fat, but chubby enough to feel approachable is what I called myself in this time period.  I went out of my way to impress people then.  I tried to make everyone like me.  I made a lot of errors in judgement with this new sense of "I'm not good enough"

I thought "Oh, I'll go on some weight loss boards, and get connected to a community of women just like me!" When I posted my story, along with my before and after photos, and revealed my struggles with the newfound weight gain, I was shocked that there were just as many bullies in these boards as the rest of the Internet.  Complete strangers would look at my progress photos and tell me that I wasn't even that fat to begin with, and I had no right to talk about how hard my process was when their after pictures look like my before.  Even when I mentioned recovering from eating disorders, and BDD, they said that I was a phony, and not welcome on their boards.  When I tried to turn to the comfort of people in a similar boat as I was, I was shunned for "not being fat enough." I wish I were making this up.  I learned that even in the "body positive/weight loss community" that there are still bullies, and in some cases, there are bullies even greater than the ones you face on the street, or the demons you fight when you look in the mirror. 

Shortly after that, when I started to get down to the size that is considered by American standards as "thin" and could identify myself as a "skinny person" that the people around me started to treat me differently.  When I was a size 8, I had everyone in my family cheering me on.  They would brag to their friends about how much I had lost, and how proud they were.  And then, when I became smaller than they did, that's when I saw the shift. On several occasions, I have had a handful of my family members tell me I looked anorexic.  As someone who has dealt with this in the past, I was so deeply hurt.  Imagine if I told my overweight relatives that they looked Type 2 Diabetic because they were getting fat! You can't tell someone they look like they have a disease based on their body type, and not expect it to hurt. Yet, when I was younger and heavy, they told me I needed to lose weight, and I was unhealthy.  I learned that some people only want you to succeed, just as long as you don't do better than them.

I am incredibly sensitive and introverted, and have social anxiety in situations that involve me spending time with people my own age, or in a crowded bar (and don't get me started on small talk.  It makes me want to crawl in a hole) Before, when I would go out and start to shut down, I was just considered shy, and awkward.  Now, people take it as I am stuck up, and a "skinny bitch" who thinks she's too good.  When in fact, I just want to go home and be with the dog if I can't be with people who I consider to be "safe". I learned that your appearance effects how people perceive your hangups. 

And last, but not least.  I've learned that no one tells you the voices in your head don't go away.  I wish that with every size four pants I pull on over my legs that I didn't feel like the awkward girl in junior high with braces and glasses, who was begging for the boy in the next desk over to notice her.  I learned that you are always going to find something wrong with your body that you are going to want to fix.  I'm just as much that pubescent, awkward, somewhat shy little girl who just wants to be loved as I am the strong, lean, woman that I am today.  The voices don't go away when I step on a set to model.  The voices don't stop when my partner tells me that I am beautiful, and perfect the way I am.  Over time, they get quieter, and I've learned how to shut them up for the most part...but, no...they never truly cease.  I wish someone had told me that one years ago.

Everyone has it within themselves to get healthy, to shed the pounds, to gain the muscle, and to reclaim their lives when they feel like they have lost it.  Carrying around excess weight physically isn't something that has to be permanent...the resources are out there to rid yourself of that burden.  Just be sure that when you do start, that you're prepared for the mental that goes along with it.

I still wouldn't change a single step of this trip for the world. This has been an eye-opening experience, and I am so grateful that this has given me an opportunity to grow (and shrink) as a person.  I am always going to be a work in progress be it spiritually, mentally, or physically, and I think that my biggest lesson out of everything that I need to really focus on, is being happy with myself in the present moment...because that's all we truly have.  That one, I'm working on.

Go forth and conquer, readers.  And make sure you eat some vegetables while you do it.

You Wear It Well: What To Wear To A Concert.

Hey, readers!

I've had a few requests to bring back some fashion related posts.  As a few of you may know, Payton Place started out as a fashion blog in its first life, and since starting my business as a stylist, and being a model, I'm constantly surrounded by clothes and the people who love them.  So, I'll be introducing more style related posts alongside my lifestyle blogs as well.  I will have more time to write these now that I have my own office out of our cute little home!

Last night, my boyfriend, Nathan took me to go see the Stones.  The night was truly a magical experience (dare I say it? Spiritual.) and I had a marvelous time. However, between the CMA week I worked (styling photo shoots, wardrobe assisting for live shows, and a never ending train of quick changes) I couldn't help but wonder where the real style was! We were in an arena full of people waiting to see one of the, if not the greatest living touring rock band of all time, and I found myself surrounded by fanny packs, sneakers, and sweatpants.

Although it was an inferno inside the stadium, I did see a few people who managed to get it right as far as appropriate attire goes. Here are a few tips to get you through the rest of the summer concerts you'll attend that will make you feel like you're with the band!

Consider your environment, the venue/the venue's rules.

Last night, the arena did not allow women to carry in large purses.  This is a new safety measure at numerous events due to contraband being snuck in over the last few years at a few events.  However, there are many alternatives to remedy this situation.  Invest in a high quality, cross-body bag that you can wear for long periods of time without damaging your back.  I picked up one of the Hung On U bags last night at the merch stand.  They are designed by none other than Mrs. Keith Richards (Patti Hansen, the supermodel!) to be easy to throw on, carry everything you need (wallet, tickets, sunnies, lipgloss, and sunscreen) Patti designed these bags during her Studio 54 days to make going from set to a night out on the town effortless, and chic. I highly recommend investing in a great bag like this for all of your concert needs.

Y'all, last night was hot.  Nashville is notorious for our sticky summers.  I kept this in mind when picking out my ensemble for last night.  I picked up this stunning vintage mini tent dress from Pura Vida Vintage (www.puravidavintage.com) and paired it with the cork wedges I wore for our Tennessean shoot with the YB Plain Girls. Nathan wore a Dylan/Analog button down, Lucky Brand jeans, and a vintage conch belt, paired with vintage cowboy boots. 

The tent mini was a stylish, yet practical way to beat the heat. Because it was short, and loose, it gave what little breeze there was a chance to get to me.  Also, bonus with vintage is you can usually just rinse it out in the sink and hang-dry it! The lace wedges were made of cork, which provided me with a comfortable and supportive foundation to walk on. The floor seats had a temporary rubber floor laid down, and I knew it was going to be hard walking in my normal concert heels which look a little something like this: 

If you are going to do a heel or a wedge, make sure that there is lots of support under the balls of your feet. Platforms under those piggies are the best way to guarantee your dogs won't be barking all night long.  If you don't have Barbie feet like I do, and can manage to walk in flats, a nice pair of statement sandals will dress up any look you have instantly. Try a bold python print with a basic tee and jeans instead of your tennis shoes or flip flops. It'll elevate your look to the next level. I love a pair of boyfriend jeans with a black tee, a printed sandal, and a long necklace. Another option is always a fantastic pair of motorcycle boots like Patti is wearing in the photo above.

Rachel Zoe has gorgeous flat sandals that have a slight 70's vibe going on. Bonus! They're comfy! 

Think outside the shorts and t-shirt combo!

Sweat pants are for sweating. Running shoes are for running. That's it.  You've/someone who wants you to share this experience has paid a bit of money for you to be able to attend this show.  Dress like you care, and not like you're waiting for your next Pilates class. Gym clothes have no place in rock n roll. I saw a LOT of ill fitting lycra shorts and boxy t-shirts last night, guys. You can dress up your staples with a lightweight kimono. My favorites come from a local store in Nashville called Trunk. Here I am modeling one on their Instagram that retails for $32! Add some texture with a geode necklace, and you are ready to rock. (Get it? Geode? Rock? Anybody?) Another alternative is you can always go vintage! I love a good pair of high waisted shorts (make sure they fit appropriately, ladies! Else this could get really unflattering really fast!) and a vintage tee. It's classic, effortless, and always stylish. 

Carly Simon's got the right idea. 

A lot of women are afraid of dresses.  They seem like too much work or too fussy.  When in reality? Dresses are the EASIEST THING EVER. You don't even have to wear pants! That's the best part! What better way to catch a breeze than to not wear pants? I like flowy, lightweight, and bold mini dresses for summer evening events because they offer a retro flair (unless you're wearing vintage, of course!) and they can be dressed up or down. I really like People Like Art and their t-shirt dresses. They are locally made out of sustainable fabrics, and are basically like wearing nothing. Trunk also has insanely comfortable dresses that are breathable. My favorite one also retails for $32 and has a cape attached! Throw on a bold statement necklace and strap some sandals on with them! You'll be cooler in temperature and look like a million bucks. 

Behind the scenes of the last People Like Art 2015 Lookbook. I want to live in this dress!

                                      

This one is a vintage handkerchief dress that I stole from my mother's closet! It was perfect for Abbey Road on the River in Louisville over Memorial Day weekend. 

 Don't wear the band you are seeing's t-shirt to their own concert.

Come on, guys. Have a little more originality than that. Honestly, that's all I have to say about that. 

SPF, primer, earplugs, and hairspray that holds!

Ladies, tanning is so passe. We all know it gives you skin cancer and wrinkles, and no one wants to look like a couch in a crop top. Be sure to wear an SPF of at least 15 (and make sure it's natural so none of those icky chemicals get in your body) and if you are like me, and love wearing makeup, be sure to set it with a primer. I use natural coco butter as a BB cream primer, and Bobbi Brown primer for my eyelids. Between that and my Dior Iconic mascara, my makeup stayed perfect all night. If you are a bare faced beauty, own it. But if you like a little glam, make sure it'll stay put. Even through your fan girl tears. 

Also, ear plugs are a must to protect your precious ear drums from the shrieks and squeals! And a good hairspray will stand the test of your hair pulling. 

Don't be scared to stand out a little this season. After all, half of rock n roll is looking cool. We have a few shows coming up this summer that I am really looking forward to seeing. Brian Wilson, Loretta Lynn, The Monkees to name a few...Looks like I'll have to shop some more.  Happy concert going, readers! May your summer soundtrack be perfect, may your sunburns always be even,

And may your shorts and t-shirt combo always be accessorized to perfection. 

Don't forget your sunscreen! 

Ch-ch-changes

Change. Ahh. Something that is inevitable to every single creature on earth. The caterpillars must turn into butterflies. The leaves must change colors. You know, just like The Byrds say...

Perhaps it was due to my childhood that change is such a hard pill to swallow. I haven't really felt stable ever. I wonder if stability is a myth perpetuated by the media...like perfect skin and jeans that don't fade when you wash them.

It seems like the last few years of my life have been nothing but changes-some drastic, and some not. I've moved five times in the last four years, and before that, it was an average of once a year if not more. I wasn't raised in a situation where I was really shown what a safe and healthy relationship was for the first sixteen years of my life...probably the years that matter the most. I've lost two friends that were more like family to me, and am about to lose my favorite aunt to the same disease in less than a year. I am at a crossroads in my careers. I feel like change has brought me rocky ground to stand on, and I'm wearing six inch heels on that shaky bit of land.

And I'm wearing those six inch heels while standing on my head...

When chaos and change go on all around me, I shut down. It's been a coping mechanism since before I knew what a coping mechanism was. I don't realize I'm doing it until someone snaps me out of it. I was always a quiet child for the most part...I didn't say a word until I was four...so it doesn't really raise any eyebrows for people who've known me long.

Change effects my quest for perfection. Maybe it's because I'm a virgo, or maybe it's because I've lived in disorder my entire life, that my heart cries out for order, but I am on a never ending quest for perfection. I of course know that this will never happen, and it's unobtainable, but there's a familiar comfort in trying to reach for it. Much like nail biting, nervous eating, and holding everything in until it's too late, and I'm having a panic attack over tacos (that was one time!) instead of what's really bothering me, there's a familiar comfort in anxiety and stress. It's the only way I know how to live. It's the only way I have been taught to live. I have been trained to believe that everyone will leave, nothing will ever stay the same, and trying to build something permanent will be harder than trying to catch smoke with your bare hands.

But, yesterday morning I had a realization. Not all change is bad change.

I came in from a Pilates class and sat at our kitchen table while I drank my coffee and looked around. I tried to mindfully enjoy my breakfast, giving my body gratitude and love for working so well. I practiced gratitude for our beautiful little kitchen, which was starting to shape up to look like one I had dreamed about when I was younger, and had even written about in my journal. My little guy pawed at me, begging me for part of my beet muffin. The sounds of The Who filled our home that we had been struggling to put together for the last few days. My leggings were falling down my hips. As I hiked them up to go and flip the record, I had a realization. All of these great things were also brought on my change. Things that I felt so blessed and so grateful to have were all products of change! 

Our little kitchen

If I hadn't changed my lifestyle, I would still be unhealthy and unhappy with the way I was looking, and feeling crappy. Old Payton wouldn't dream of going to Pilates or eating beets! She wouldn't dream of being in single digit clothing, or walking on a runway. Change did that!

Before and after

Runway show spring 2015

If I hadn't changed my mind about being single and living in a terrible environment, I wouldn't have experienced the most challenging, and most rewarding year of my life with my boyfriend, Nathan. I have grown so much as a person because of our shared experiences. I wouldn't have this beautiful life we are building together in our cute little home if I had been afraid of change.

On our one year anniversary

Floor seats for the Who!

I wouldn't have Arrow if I had wanted to stay comfortable and not bothered. And he's the light of my life! 

If I hadn't changed and realized my worth, I would still be working at a terrible 9-5 instead of working on building my own business doing things that I love and helping people.

Dressing Crystal Gayle and Charley Pride

So, yeah, maybe change does suck sometimes. But if there's one thing I am working on, it's changing the way I look at the world. Just like coal turning into a diamond, or scraps of metal transforming into a Rolls Royce, or a really great vintage dress that gets reworked into a new outfit, change can be good. Change can make things better. 

Trying to change my mind about change? That's one thing I can definitely try to...

Well, you know. 

Build Your Own Chocolate Factory.

"You know what happened to the man who got everything he ever wanted...he lived happily ever after." -Willy Wonka

So you're probably wondering why I am quoting a fictional character at the beginning of this blog, right? 

As many of you who know, I am seldom out and about without my faithful journal close by. I have faithfully kept a record of my thoughts for the past sixteen years. I think it's the cheapest form of self realization one can possibly find. And I also think it helps keep you in check. Going back and reading your stream of consciousness as a third party makes you more aware of your progress and where to move next. 

I also believe that you create your own reality. I don't buy into excuses anyone may make. I just don't. I think that you can have everything you've ever dreamed and then some...your own chocolate factory. And the only one standing in the way is yourself.

"But, Payton. I grew up poor. My genetics are bad. My dad didn't love me enough. My boyfriend won't let me. I didn't go to college. I can't." And I'm here to tell you that you absolutely can. The job you want? You can have it. The body you desire? Within reach. The partner, the car, the home...you can have it. And the only one standing in between you and what you so crave is yourself.

The only reason I can tell you this with such confidence is that I have been there. I have had every excuse under the sun. I couldn't get the body I wanted because I was stressed, I didn't have enough money to eat properly, I was tired. I couldn't have the job I wanted because I was fat. I couldn't have the lifestyle I wanted because I couldn't get the job I wanted because I couldn't have the body I desired. I had terrible relationships because my stepmom beat me and I didn't trust men. I worked two jobs at one time that I both hated, I had a hormonal imbalance, blah blah blah, and I cried myself to sleep at night every single night without fail because I was so distraught at the thought of never accomplishing my dreams, but I wasn't willing to do anything to move in the direction of accomplishing them, because in my mind I was "stuck"

That Payton wouldn't pose for anyone in hot pants that were a size 6. She was too afraid of success, confidence, and spandex. 

Preview and photo by Nathan Cox.

About five years ago, I was introduced to the teachings of the Law of Attraction and the laws of the universe. When people scoffed at me, I reminded them that gravity was a law of the universe as well, and no one seemed to mind that. I created vision boards, and started to journal differently. When I was nineteen, I wrote out a day in what my dream life would be. I wrote about what my day consisted of in such detail that I even included smells and tastes. I wrote about my dream body, my partner, my home, my dog...I closed the last page of my journal and put it away.

The dog I so desperately wanted, my best friend, Arrow. 

Sitting in his chair at my job that seems to have been tailored just for me. I can only describe him entering into my life as predestined fate. My destiny dog.

I continued to journal, but if you read them in chronological order, about three years ago I start to slip. My language becomes more harsh, more criticism happens, I start to feel trapped, desperate, and afraid. The people I started to attract into my life had ulterior motives, and there's a giant plot twist in my narrative. I became depressed, I gained weight I had worked so hard to lose back, I got robbed on more than one occasion in nearly every sense of the word, I lost friends...It wasn't until I went back and read those passages that I realized it was time to get back on track. I took control of my life and started back on the path of creating the life I wanted. And when I did, all the wrong people and circumstances fell by the way side, I was given the urge to start yoga classes which has shaped my body into one I am proud of, a freak happening brought me my partner that treats me like a queen, a devestating loss brought me my dog, an internal rustling helped me find my jobs, I started meeting all the right people and being in the right places at the right times. Because I decided to. 

I woke up today in a house in the neighborhood I had picked out for myself when I was eighteen. The dog snoozing blissfully at my feet was just like the photo of one I had pinned up on a bulletin board in my cheap rented room five years ago. The person next to me is above and beyond what I could have written him to be like in his ways of treating me like a queen and being supportive and loving. I got to a job that I am happy to be at, while looking at a schedule full of stuff that I said I would always have (styling, modeling, acting, concerts) My muscles are blissfully aching from a yoga class surrounded by something else I wanted--a community of strong and beautiful women to support each other. And as I walked down the street today on a little break from work, my heels clacking on the brick sidewalk, I couldn't help but think of an entry from March of 2010.

Behind the scenes of yesterday's photo shoot complete with glam squad. Two shoots booked in two days. Something I used to only dream of.

Left: size 14/16. Right: size 6

Taking care of rock royalty's wardrobe. In heels. 

March 5, 2010:

...one day I will be able to wear whatever the hell I want to to work. I'll wear my highest heels if I feel like it. And I'll have a little fluffy white dog that's part shihtzu like Hannah (my dog at the time)  is. And I'll walk my cute little dog down the streets of East Nashville and say hello to all of my artist neighbors. I'll have stacks of checks to take to the bank to do with all of my jobs--styling and modeling and writing. And I'll have a cute little house in Inglewood that I'll share with my cute boyfriend with curly hair who loves records as much as I do, treats me like a queen, and is an artistic genius. I also will have learned how to cook then and instead of a fourteen, I'll be a size six. I will travel so much that I'll be able to see two coasts in months of each other. I will feel fulfilled and happy, and I'll know that I created this for myself. 

Size 6 jeans. Long gone are the double digits. 

The cute boyfriend who is a brilliant photographer. And check out that curly hair!

I go on and on about my plans for my life by the time I turn this age and that age, and so on and so forth. (I do believe a ring that looks like Elizabeth Taylor's is mentioned along with a walk in closet are mentioned) and while I don't have these things now, I know they are on its way. There are so many things I have had to stop saying to myself to get here. I had to move out of my own way. I had to listen to my gut. But today, I could wake up and say to myself that I was on the right track. 

And if I can get there? You can too.

March 25, 2015:

Dear eighteen year old Payton: Mission Accomplished. You got this. 

Keep the faith, readers. You've got this too. The life you want is within your reach if you will just step out of your own way. Now go build your own damn chocolate factory. 

And do it in something fabulous. Top from People Like Art.

What Losing Two Friends In Six Months Did To Me

"Dr. Appt went well. All clear."

"Thank God."

These texts and calls have become commonplace in my life. My mom, a ten year breast cancer survivor will have to continue having these appointments for the rest of her life. Every year, I hold my breath and wait for the message to come through that she's in the clear...

The eleventh of March marked a month since I said goodbye to my friend Phil, and six months prior to that, we buried my friend/adopted mother figure Carla from the same disease. I currently have family members, friends, and their loved ones fighting with the same evil.

Mama Carla and her "Munchkin"

I think about a little over a month ago when I went to see Phil in the hospital. The boisterous laugh, the booming Australian accent that could carry across rooms, all of the life in him had already drained out. He was kept "comfortable" until his passing. I was at home when I heard the news...and I remember throwing my fists in the air and sobbing "Why did you take another one of my friends?!"

At the benefit for Phil. I played drums with some of our friends to raise money to cover his medical bills.

I know my story isn't that uncommon by today's standards. Nearly every single person in my life has been effected directly with this disease. But I know that my life has changed drastically over the last year alone because of it. 

 Three years ago, I started my extensive research on the modern medical industry, the food industry in this country, diet, nutrition, and exercise. This is an ongoing process, because there's always something new to learn about it. I learned that animal proteins feed cancer cells, and went ahead to make the choice to become vegan instead of a lacto-ovo vegetarian. I kicked my diet soda addiction. I attempt to be as perfect as possible in my dietary choices. It's forced me to meal plan around budget, nutritional value, and so much more. It was the wakeup call I needed. I learned that health starts with what your input into your body is. 

I move. I move because I can. After seeing Phil on his deathbed, unable to do anything but sleep, I came home and did four yoga classes in a row because I was physically able to. If I have a body that is fully capable of moving, it is a slap in everyone's face who can't. It's a slap in my Creator's face to not use the instruments he has given me.  I have witnessed  "Use it or lose it" first hand.

I crow because I can. A year ago, I couldn't touch my toes. 

I try my hardest to be present. I try to be in every moment as they are happening, experiencing the moments I will never get back instead of wishing for what tomorrow may hold. I breathe a little slower, chew my food a bit more, write in my journal to capture moments more...I try to put my phone down at home as much as possible (still working on that one) and swap that time out for snuggles with my dog or my partner. I try to wake up earlier to have a few moments to myself to breathe, to give thanks...thanks for waking me up again, thanks for getting me out of bed, thanks for the coffee I'm brewing. Thank you for this moment that I will never get back.

I've cut out booze. Watching your loved ones internal organs shut down before your very eyes will either do one of two things to you: drive you to drink, or encourage you to walk away from it cold turkey. Thich Nhat Hanh has a book about being present, in which he says that anyone who is drinking alcohol or smoking cigarettes is not present, because they are looking for a distraction from now. If they were present in the moment on all levels, they would not put such toxins in their systems, knowing it will reak havoc on their body. This has stuck with me. The four vodka sodas I used to have a week are gone, and I feel so much better. But the best part is that I feel like not only am I respecting my body when I do so, but it gives me the energy to move, to function, and I'm not distracted and trying to escape. Being an introvert in an extroverted world is hard. Having a few drinks to loosen up in public situations was my way to not shut down. It was a crutch. But, without it, I am forced to be present. And that is actually a gift in itself!

I try to do my friends proud. Carla especially (Mama Carla as I called her) called me her "Munchkin" and adopted me almost right away. She and her partner, Jim, gave me a key to their home, and quickly became surrogate parents. After Carla passed, people came out of the woodwork to talk about how every time Carla was with them that she would pull out her phone and tell everyone about her Munchkin in Nashville, and how proud she was of me.  Her family members, hairdressers, and even waitresses at their favorite spots reached out to tell me after she passed that she would do this. I had no idea. I feel like now, it is my goal to live in such a way that she would be so proud of me, and is elbowing the other angels up there, saying "that's my munchkin!" 

Jim, Carla, and I before seeing Ringo. 

I am living more authentically. Phil touched so many people's lives and left such an impression as a member of his community. Carla decided to uproot her life and move away to pursue her dreams after her children were grown. She stayed true to herself...up to the very end. I try to emulate this about her in my everyday life. Because of them, I know that you leave the earth a better place or a worse place because of you, so you might as well make it better.

Phil and I definitely in the moment. Itchycoo Park's set on the Sunday from our last Abbey Road on the River...the last time I saw Carla alive. Phil had no idea he was sick. 

I pray that one day the real cure...and prevention of this awful disease will be as common knowledge as what's going on in the world of the Kardashian's, but for now, it's not. But, what I have learned from losing two friends in six months is not only to take care of myself, to follow my dreams, and to eat my vegetables...it's that shit will always happen. That's inevitable. It's how we choose to deal with it that is the true mark that we will leave on the world...and I intend to make them proud.

No, Facebook. I'll review my own year, thanks.

Well, readers. Here we are. New Year's Eve, 2014. Time for reflections, memories, and to figure out what we have learned. As I applied my makeup this morning to get ready for work, I looked back at myself in the mirror and thought: "Man, nowhere near where we were a year ago. And thank God." 

This time last year, I was walking on eggshells, desperately trying to keep the facade of a life I had created going. I wanted to crawl under the covers and never come back out. I ended up at some industry party, and was in bed before ten pm, thinking of all of the stuff I was going to have to overcome this year. 

And then January rolled around. An act of what can only be fate snapped me out of my haze of mediocrity. I had to do something about my life. And I had to do it fast. January 23,2014 was the day I took my freedom back. I walked away from my job that was slowly killing me, I ran away from a relationship that had taken two of my what would have been vivacious years away, one that was more fake than the ring I later found out was phony on my ring finger. January 28...the day I threw it out of the window of my car, and never looked back. My precious friend, Bud sent me down the street to get a cup of coffee while "he" collects his things from my home. After one latte, and the first side of Exile On Main Street, my home is safe again.

Celebrating the day I got my freedom back.

February rolled around and found me in Louisville with my Beatle family. I drank, I danced, I remembered that girl that was inside of me...the one whose sparkle I had dulled because it was blinding people who wanted me to burn out. I remember a moment where I sat back with one of my adopted mother figures, Carla, and recounted my last few months. She told me she was proud of me, and that this would be my year. A week later, my friend Heather and I took a road trip to Chicago...because we could. Having newfound freedom after being under a thumb for two long years was a breath of fresh (yet icy) air. We met up with old friends and spent a much needed weekend just being us. The weight lifted off of me on the way home with each wedding vendor I called to cancel. 

My first photo shoot as a free woman. My photographer friend who shot this was trying to get the right shot..."You belong to no one." He said...right before he snapped this. I've never felt so powerful in my life.

On stage with my band family.

March...three weeks from the date that I had sat with Carla to discuss how this would be "my year" and I get the message. Carla is sick. Very sick. I spend the next two in various states of being drunk. Late March rolls around and finds me backstage at the Ryman to see Crosby, Stills, and Nash...due to having to miss them the previous year because of a jealous partner who didn't like me getting any attention. What did I wear? I wear what was supposed to be my wedding dress. Seriously. I catch the eye of a few people backstage for wearing such an unusual dress, start talking about music, get to meet everyone, and the next thing you know, I'm being invited to come to LA with them. 

The dress that got me halfway across the country.

April found me on a rooftop in Los Angeles, sipping vodka and listening to legends play. I clutch the backstage pass around my neck and wonder how this happened. My feet touched the sand on Venice Beach and I wanted to cry. People whose music I've admired for years are buying me dinner and drinks...people who made me feel like I was never alone. I fly home and spend what was supposed to be my wedding day in a Honky Tonk listening to my friends play "I'll Feel A Whole Lot Better" and how right they were. 

A week after, I was at a show, singing along to Humble Pie songs when a guy with crazy hair and a terrible mustache catches my eye. He knows all of the words...just like me. Stop looking. Ignore it. I went home to log into Facebook, and mustache boy is in the corner on my "People You May Know" with his photo and his name---Nathan Cox... and the next thing you know, "I'm sitting across from him at a coffee shop, laughing and chattering on about nothing, and everything. We spoke of books, and records, and films, our friends, and how I was going to see my friend, Carla the next day to go take care of her after her surgery. Nathan and I spoke for six hours that night. And we haven't shut up since. 

I go back to Louisville to see Carla and her partner, Jim...my adopted parents. Carla has just had surgery, and is attached to machines. She still wants me to notice her new sparkly nails, and is more interested in my life, and about the date I just went on. We binge watched "Orange Is The New Black", I vacuumed the house, and slept on a pallet of pillows and blankets at the foot of their bed...just like a true kid coming to visit Mom and Dad would.

May was spent trying to find out what was wrong with my newfound knight in shining Levi's...and with him telling me that I was indeed loveable, worthy, and that he wasn't going to go anywhere. I will never be able to repay him for his patience. Once again, I ended up in Louisville for Abbey Road on the River, where my entire family that had adopted me celebrated my freedom. New and old friends welcomed me with open arms, and took care of me when I couldn't take care of myself. I went to visit Carla in the hospital. She was the color of a carrot, and stuck in bed, but she still wanted me to notice her sparkly slippers, and how she had blinged her own IV bag. That was the last time I saw her alive.

June. 

I come back from my music festival to move someone in to the other bedroom of my home. 

 Things are beginning to look up, when my car gets broken into, and I have to stop the robbery...and then someone I thought was a friend, took every single piece of furniture I had, appliances, and clothes, and left me with a house that looked like a tornado went through it. This leads me to Craigslist in search of a free couch...I found my Arrow instead. 

Our first day together. Me and my Arrow.

The friend who takes my furniture away just so happens to be the person who has the lease on my house. The house is tainted, and I am forced to cut my losses and run. I spend the next few nights on my friend Gary's couch...and then with Nathan who held me when I cried so hard I shook. I felt like I was drowning. He held me in his arms and said "Let me take care of you..." a statement no one has ever said to me before. It was always me taking care of others...And right after that, I get the news...

I met adopted family member Grace in the middle of nowhere, Kentucky for Carla's funeral. The night before I went to say goodbye, I watched the last episode of "Orange Is The New Black" since she would never be able to finish it...and painted a layer of glitter on my nails, because that's what she would have wanted. I said my final goodbye to the woman who took me on as a daughter in her heart, and bragged about me like I was hers...her "munchkin" she called me. And two weeks later, I was back in Louisville, behind a drum kit after a huge break from playing, jamming with our friends...for Carla. Giving her the goodbye that she would have wanted. 

Carla's shoes were representing that night. 

July, another rock n roll family member had to have surgery, and needed help, and company. So, I headed to New Jersey to see Joe through a knee replacement. We spend a lot of time discussing our purpose in life, and he tells me to answer my calling when it comes. I ended up seeing both coasts of the country within three months because of my friend needing a new knee. 

I come home, and am scattered. What am I doing? Why aren't I as fulfilled as I want to be? I took my leap of faith, and no net had appeared. I had written out what I desired out of a job. Why hadn't I been and to manifest it yet?? Something inside of me tells me to go once again on Craigslist and look in the job section...

Doing wardrobe for Beck and hanging with Jason Falkner and Roger Manning Jr from Jellyfish.

August 1 was my first day at my dream job. It met all of the requirements on my checklist. Things begin to turn around. I am excited to wake up. I begin to get on a regular sleep, exercise, and diet routine. I am surrounded by creative and driven women that are beautiful inside and out. I finally feel like I know why everything else I ever tried for didn't work. I am overwhelmed with gratitude.

Laura, Owner of Tiffany's Boutique herself...Miss Tiffany, and Missus Manager (moi!) 

September, I turned 23 and breathed a sigh of relief that I managed to survive. I am reminded of my purpose, and am surrounded by people who love me. It was the first birthday since nine years old that didn't end in tears. It also is the month that I filmed with my boss, and my perfect little shop, an episode of Oprah. Seriously. Nine months prior, I was considering sleeping until I turned fifty, and now, Oprah's crew was clipping a microphone on me. Talk about a 180!

October, I managed to end up in a hotel with some of my closest friends/chosen family with Denny Laine from The Moody Blues and Wings. We spend a weekend listening to ridiculously talented people play the greatest music ever, and stay up to watch the sunrise. I see Paul Mccartney in concert, and end up backstage. I sit back and say "Thank You" under my breath at least a dozen times. Thank you for my crazy little life.

With Denny, and then Brian backstage.

November brings the first Thanksgiving that didn't bring on an anxiety attack since I was ten. Nathan's mom made a vegan thanksgiving feast, and I felt truly loved, and wanted by a family that wasn't one I had made for the first time. It was beautiful. I cried, but only out of gratitude and happiness.

Our first family Thanksgiving

And here we are, December. I'm in nowhere near the same place I was in this time last year. I wake up in a home that's filled with love, instead of one where I sleep on the couch, and mutter under my breath. I wake up with the sweetest little dog under my legs, and the formerly mustached Mr. Cox next to me, who manages to still look cute that early, and who every morning,without fail, rolls over, puts his arm around me, kisses me on the cheek, and says "Good morning, gorgeous. I love you." The man who saved me, and the dog who rescued me snuggle me into a love sandwich. Every. Single. Day. I get up at an hour in which I used to just now be getting to bed. I actually eat breakfast instead of drinking two pots of coffee alone. I do my makeup in a bathroom that is always crowded with two people attempting to get ready to start their day, but I will take that over the cold and damp bathroom that I used to hide in to avoid the happenings in my old house. I get to go to the most fun, rewarding, and creatively inspiring environment for me in which I get to help women who felt like I did in January feel like they are good enough, pretty enough...I get to go to my glorious yoga house and let my body know how much I appreciate it in rooms full of like minded individuals. I now have fantastic friends at the push of a button that could not be more perfect. (New friends, Daisy and Amanda!! How did I ever live without you??) I get to go home, and live my life.  How incredibly lucky I am! 

Wardrobe for Brian Setzer. After three weeks of Vince Gill! 

Our first Christmas 

My life is not at all like I had imagined it would be in 2014. It's so so much more better than I ever could have dreamed. I am constantly reminded of how everything happens for a reason, and that I am never wrong in following my gut. I know now, more than ever, that a life filled with gratitude will do more for you than one filled with resentment. Oprah has this thing she writes in every issue of her magazine..."What I Know For Sure" and what I know for sure is that 2014 was easily the most difficult year so far that I have experienced. I also know that these experiences were lessons, and I can't be thankful enough for all of those lessons. And if I had to do it all over again? I would. Just to end up here. I would gladly go through hell and high water to get to where I am now. 2014, thank you for your challenges, your obstacles, your struggle you threw at me.

Because in return, I also got your blessings, your memories I will cherish for life, and the knowledge that I was stronger than I ever thought imaginable.

That is truly what I thank you for.

I would like to dedicate my 2015 to Mama Carla, who lived her life unapologetically as herself. She never worried what anyone else thought, and never met a stranger. This year, my resolution is to live my life more like her, and to always try and make her proud of the woman I have become. Because I know she still watches.

Bring it on, 2015. I'm ready.