So this morning I did 7 full press ups. Not a big deal in and of itself, but I’m pretty proud of myself.

For pretty much the first time in my life (and with a big thanks to Marianna) I’m exercising consistently.

My body shape and size has stayed pretty much the same. I went into this not really caring what changed physically. I notice the difference but I couldn’t guarantee that anyone else would. I’m pretty happy with that.

But I enjoy activity now! My mental health, although it’s not ever been consistently low, is way better. I’m happier and healthier and I sleep better.

In other words, I can now do some press ups, because I achieved consistency and commitment with something I enjoyed, and that spiralled out into the rest of my life. Sometimes it really is that simple.

Shame is a crappy motivator and women in general have way too much of it regarding our bodies. At the end of the day, I’m happy with how I look and I’m waaaaay happier with how I feel, because I feel strong in a million different ways.