what i didn't expect when i lost 20 pounds

I've lost 20 pounds. Ahhhhhhhhh! I know! I just completed everybody's New Year's resolution.

I didn't really think I'd do it and I can't believe I did and it's awesome and crazy and wonderful and hard all at the same time.
Here's the deal though...it's not what society cooks it up to be. My life is not magically better or easier.

Working out is still hard.
Seriously. It's hard. I'm not naturally great at working out. I still lay on my bed dreading going on a 5 mile run and don't talk to me about push ups because I can't do them. I hate ab day and I get burned out with the same workout super fast. It's a daily battle, but I do it! I've learned that being active counts, no matter if it's just a walk around your neighborhood.

Eating healthy is overrated sometimes.
I swear if I have to eat one more carrot, I might puke. But I do really love eggs and avocados and peanut butter and bananas and those coconut, chocolate covered almonds at Costco and chocolate cake. So I guess as long as I'm a B+ eater, I'll be just fine. 

I still don't love my body. 
My entire life I've thought "Man, if I could lose 20 pounds, I would be so much happier."

JOKES ON ME because guess what? I don't love my body all the time. I still get frustrated with how clothes fit. I still feel fat and bloated some days. I'm not miraculously happier all the time and I certainly nit pick the things I don't like.

I don't magically get dates.
I always thought that if I looked a certain way, boys would ask me out. BAHAHA! Not true. Although...I have caught a couple guys in my ward checking me out so I'm not mad about that.

All the good stuff outweighs the bad stuff though cause....
Good golly gee, I'm SO confident!
I really am! I actually like wearing a swimsuit! I DO look in the mirror and see a difference and it's honestly incredible!

My body is not the same as yours. 
If there's anything I've learned though, it's this: everyone's body is different. When I started losing weight I thought I wanted to lose about 50 pounds. After losing what I have though, my collarbones started poking out and my ribs started pushing through my skin and I thought to myself..."Elisabeth. Are you living a healthy lifestyle?" "Yes." "Then you a'ight."

I'm not made to be tiny and THAT'S OKAY! I'm 5'10". Of COURSE my body isn't made to be 150 pounds. If yours is, THAT'S WONDERFUL! We are ALL beautiful just the way we are.

EVERYONE struggles with their body image [even the skinny girls!], but I say this: You get to choose to be happy with your body. Losing weight doesn't make you love your body. It just doesn't. You're the one who gets to decide how you feel about yourself. And in my opinion, that's pretty darn stellar.

If you want to be my running buddy, hit me upppppp!


you don't get to decide for me

I'd be lying if I didn't say I've had it rough for the last little while. It's been a long year of trials and hardships. A lot because of my own doing, but also by circumstances I wasn't able to control. 

However, I finally figured out something that's catastrophically altered my life. 


I get to decide that I'm beautiful and funny and intelligent and sexy. 
I get to decide that I'm wonderful and caring and empathetic and compassionate.

Cause guess what? I am all those things and so much more

My life shouldn't revolve around what that really cool kid on Twitter thinks about my tweets or what that girl thinks about my outfit. It shouldn't revolve around my ex-boyfriends or my roommates or my parents. 

If you think I'm fat, guess what? You don't get to decide that. I'm the only one in the entire world who gets to decide that I'm gorgeous just the way I am. Thank you very much. 

Isn't that so incredibly freeing?! No more wondering if my ward crush thinks I'm adorable or how I'm going to get that guy to like me. I'm not about that life.

I've started celebrating all the truly lovely things about me.
I'm celebrating the fact that I'm an amazing daughter of God who's potential spans farther than getting married or having the perfect job. I'm celebrating the immense love I have for my friends and my family. I'm celebrating my love for national parks and running. 

I'm celebrating who I really am, what I truly love doing, and what makes ME happy.

And if any of you know me, you know I love celebrating. (Birthdays are my very favorite holiday.)

So welcome to the world happy, confident Elisabeth. You're a pretty rad girl to have around. 


for marisa

Oh hey there Maris,

I'm kind of the worst friend ever because I really suck at getting you presents. 

So, this is my present because I've always been better at words then I've ever been at gift giving. 

You came out of the temple on Saturday and I don't think I've ever seen you more happy. It made ME happy to see YOU so happy. It really did. I couldn't stop thinking about it all day. 

I know God knew I needed you in my life. We didn't always hit it off, but after that first semester of living together, it just clicked. 

You were there through my terrible Josh phase, through my last year of school, through my over reactions and my foolishness. You've seen me bawl my eyes out and you've made me laugh harder than anyone else. 

We bonded over food and documentaries. We made s'mores and laid in your hammock and talked about books we read. We always seemed to find ourselves at USU gymnastics meets when Amy and Christy were gone. We went to Moab and camped and hiked and ate lunch on top of a rock.

Except, I think what really did me in was our walks. More than anything, I cherish the time we walked and talked. We always seemed to talk about the gospel and how much we loved it. I think that was my favorite...talking about the gospel with you. 

Maris, your example has forever changed my life. I've always wanted to be just like you. Always. You've helped me become a better person. You know about my mistakes and you've loved me through it all. I will forever be grateful to you for that. So here's to new memories! 

I love you to the moon and back and then some. 


grandmas & ripped jeans don't mix

I picked up the phone at my house in Idaho and my grandma was on the other end:

"Hi Grandma!"
"Well hi, Elisabeth." (Sidenote: I love my grandma. She's a hoot and one of my favorite people.)
"What's up?"
"Is your mom there?"
"Yeah, just one moment!"
"But guess what?"
"What, grandma?"
"I want you to meet this boy who was sheet rocking my garage the other day."

(She's keeping an eye out for me, isn't she?)

"Okay, cool. Yeah, I'd love to meet him. Just give him my number."
"What?! No! You need to meet him in person!"
"Uhhhhh grandma, I promise. Just give him my number, then he can text me. Or tell him to look me up on Facebook."

(Of course my grandma knows all about dating in the 21st century....)

That same day, I came downstairs after getting ready in these:

Awww yes, ripped jeans. You should have seen my grandma's face.

"What are you wearing?!"
"What? I like these jeans. They're cute."
"You look like a convict."
"What?! No! I love them! I'm going to wear them."
"That boy is going to think you don't have any clothes to wear."
"Well grandma...if he doesn't like me for my ripped jeans, then he's not the guy for me."

(This was proceeded by a huff and a puff from my 80 year old grandma.)

Just call me a stinker. I did learn one really important lesson...don't wear ripped jeans around your grandma.


When Life Doesn't Work Out As Planned

I've spent too much time on bathroom floors lately. I find a rugged area, pull my knees to my chest, lay my head on my arm, and grit my teeth so I don't cry for the one billionth time.

I find myself going through every precious memory I have...like when I worked at an art museum or when Amy, Courtney, Lacey and I had a giant dance party or when I ran three miles every day for a whole year or when Josh and I hugged by the temple until our fingers were so cold we couldn't move them.

Those memories seem to hold such optimism for my future. Great friends, a good job, a wonderful boy...but of course those things didn't happen. Sometimes I close my eyes right before I go to sleep and I imagine what my life would be like if those things had worked out.

A lot of times I just lay there and pray. Heavenly Father, is it going to get any better?
I plead and beg. I yell and grovel. I cry and sob.
(Photo credit: my girl Kristina McRae! Check out her IG account at @k.m.foto)

I lay there and wait for the thoughts to roll in--that dictating voice inside my head telling me I'm not worth it. I'm not going to be pretty enough or skinny enough or good enough. I'll be one of the statistical millennials who gets a degree and then moves back in with their parents. My heart hurts and I can't even begin to figure out how to stop it.

Miraculously, however, this all begins to fade. It fades when I talk to my dad who hugs me when I'm discouraged and tells me it's all going to be okay. It fades when I get texts from friends letting me know they're thinking about me. And especially when I find a cute shirt at Target.

And then, I find myself thinking my pretty thoughts.

I think about going to lunch with my grandma. I think about my extremely supportive and wonderful parents. I think about my long legs and my ability to pull off glasses without looking nerdy. I think about my sisters and my new blonde hair and what I'm going to wear tomorrow.

I think about how I'm a sensational friend and how people actually read what I have to say. I think about the soft spot in my heart I have for old people. I think about puppies and blue skies and the fresh air of Idaho. I think about how I worked at an art museum and ran three miles every day for a whole year.

And then I wonder that maybe, just maybe...my life may not have worked out just like I planned, but it's going to work out perfectly for me.