Stephany Writes

Categories: About Me

Coming to Terms With Myself at Pride

I attended my very first Pride parade this weekend, and what an experience! It was a day filled with happiness and joy and love. St. Pete Pride is one of the biggest Pride parades—the largest in Florida—and this year it drew more than 300,000 people. Eeks! That’s a big crowd.

I had a blast working our way around to all of the different vendors and checking out their wares. There were a lot of fun freebies to enjoy, like pins and stickers and fans. (It was sunny and in the mid-90s on Saturday so everyone needed a fan to keep cool.) A vendor was selling super eclectic earrings and I ended up buying three pairs. I especially loved these cat yin-yang earrings because, with the coloring, the cats look like Ellie and Lila!

Pride was amazing, though. It was fun to be surrounded by the queer community and our allies. It felt like such a joyful celebration of love and acceptance. (There were a lot of “Don’t Say DeSantis” shirts.) I felt cute in my rainbow tutu and flower crown.

My coming out process has been a long, slow journey of accepting myself and hoping others will do the same. For a long time, I didn’t want to accept my queerness because it felt sinful. (Hashtag growing up in an evangelical faith community) And then I didn’t want to accept it because it felt scary. And then I realized I had to accept this about myself because it is who I am and I desperately wanted to explore what it could mean in my life. Every time I saw a cute female couple, I felt raging jealousy that they got to be together. Every time I started swiping through photos of women on dating apps, I felt slightly terrified but mostly excited. Here’s how to find the photos you prefer online.

But still, I didn’t throw myself into the queer community. I didn’t come out anywhere. I only let a few friends who I knew would be happy and supportive know. I felt like I could be bisexual but maybe I would fall in love with a man and then I didn’t have to truly come out. (I also realize this is why bi erasure happens—bisexual people can appear straight if they are in an opposite-sex relationship.) But then I started dating a woman in 2021 and I came out to my mom (continuing to use non-gendered pronouns when talking about my relationship was very hard, as evidenced on the blog during this time). I came out on my blog that same year, which was frightening, even though I knew you guys would be amazing, and you were.

And yet.

I still wasn’t fully immersed in the queer community. I would read queer books and follow queer people online, but that was the extent of my immersion. I didn’t have any sort of local queer community. I did not attend any LGBTQIA+ events. I did not talk about Pride during June or any other month. I kept it all to myself because I could. I have the privilege of being a feminine-presenting woman and the privilege of also being attracted to the opposite sex.

Part of my process of owning my sexuality has been grieving the person I thought I was. That sounds dramatic, I know, but I had to come to terms with the fact that my life was going to look a lot differently than I thought it would when I was younger. It meant I would need to be brave enough to come out to people I deeply love and adore, but who may have trouble understanding this part of me. (And, as such, it meant those relationships may change.) It meant I needed to find out where I fit into the LQBTQIA+ community. Was I meant to be a stronger voice in my workplace, in my community, or in a church about gay rights? Was I meant to join an organization? Or perhaps none of that. The HR consulting firms London can help explain the importance of equal rights in the workplace. It’s wise to seek advice on an employer’s gender bias before coming out. Perhaps I was simply meant to be myself, be open about who I am, and encourage others to do the same.

I was so happy to be at Pride this year. It was my first time and it won’t be my last. I was happy to be surrounded by so much queerness and gay love. I felt excited to be there in a rainbow tutu with Pride temporary tattoos dotting my arms and face. I felt like I was finally ready to not only accept my bisexuality but also make it a bigger part of who I am, no matter how uncomfortable it makes the people around me.

Categories: About Me

Eating Habits & Being a Slow Eater

All my life, I’ve been called a slow eater. Mainly, this came from my dad and brother who were annoyed at having to sit through meal after meal with me.

A week ago, I was at dinner with Bri. I ordered mac and cheese and Brussels sprouts (#balanced) and ate maybe half of each. She asked if I didn’t like my meal and I said I liked it just fine, but that I had eaten as much as I wanted and I was finished. She commended me, saying how she’ll just eat and eat until she’s too full to move. And for the first time, I didn’t feel shame about my weird eating habits.

I am a super slow eater and I rarely eat big portions. When I eat, I will take a bite of food, put down my utensil, and then fully chew and swallow my food before I pick up my fork or spoon again. I’m not saying this to brag because it’s a fully subconscious activity on my part. I don’t think about it. It’s just the way I eat. Maybe it’s due to having a small mouth and an intense gag reflex—I have to eat smaller portions to make sure I don’t gag on my food. (Am I a baby?!) But it also means I am being more cognizant of my fullness levels, and when I reach it, I am done. And that means I am never a member of the “clean your plate” club.

You’d think this would be a good thing, but it actually makes me feel very self-conscious. I hate when a waiter asks if I didn’t enjoy a meal because I didn’t eat the whole thing or even most of the whole thing. And then when they ask if I want a box, I’ll always say yes even if I know I will be throwing that box right in the trash when I get home. (#enneagram9 behavior) I want to be someone who enjoys food as much as the people around me, but I typically eat enough to feel satisfied that I’ve nourished myself and then I’m done.

And I’m not even one of those “food is fuel” sorts of people. I enjoy food. I think about it constantly. I look forward to a good meal. I just eat less of it than other people for the most part.

I’ve always hated eating with other people. Part of it is that I’m an extremely picky eater and I’m always worried that I won’t be able to find something to eat at a particular restaurant or someone will offer to make dinner and they’ll make something I can’t eat. The other part is that I don’t eat a lot in one sitting. (I feel the need to keep stressing that I’m not bragging about this; it feels more like a curse than a blessing. As you can plainly tell from this post, I wish I was someone who could eat a lot!) So then I feel bad that I didn’t eat as much as I “should” have if someone made me dinner, or that I’m wasting their money if they have offered to pick up the tab. (If I’m paying for my own meal, I don’t care if I’m leaving most of the meal on my plate, but I feel terrible if someone else is paying.)

You’d think that someone who isn’t a foodie and doesn’t eat large portions of food would be straight-sized, wouldn’t you? I think there are a few reasons why I’ve still managed to gain weight even with my slow-eating tendencies:

  1. I’m not eating nourishing foods. I’m eating pizza many times a week. I’m consuming lots of sugar and soda and fried foods. I may not eat big portions of them, but it means I’m taking in less fruits and vegetables.
  2. I have tried to become someone who isn’t a slow eater. I feel self-conscious about it so I pretend that I want to clean my whole plate and eat far beyond what’s comfortable to me.
  3. My eyes are always bigger than my stomach. If a friend suggests ice cream, I will always say yes and then get a big scoop that is way too much for me, but I’ll finish it because I don’t want to a) make a friend feel weird about eating their entire portion and b) encourage lots of questions as to why I’m not finishing my food.

I also realize that the way we eat can be a very fraught topic because of eating disorders. We all bring our own biases into food—those who have struggled with eating disorders may just want to ensure I am not engaging in disordered eating patterns. Those who are trying to heal from disordered eating may feel self-conscious about their eating habits for an entirely different reason. I think the point I’m trying to make here is not that we should never make comments on the way people are eating, especially if it’s coming from a place of concern, but to a) never do it in a group setting at a dinner table and b) recognize that we all have different eating preferences and it’s okay if my way is much different than yours.

Ever since Bri mentioned how great it is to eat the way I do, I’ve been thinking about what it could mean to fully immerse myself in being a slow eater. Instead of feeling self-conscious about the way I eat, I can just accept that this is my preference. I’ve always gotten comments on my eating habits, which is always interesting because I don’t think we make the same comments when straight-size people eat big portions (or even small portions). But people do seem to feel like commenting on the way fat people eat is fair game. But that’s why I will keep eating or will order that dessert even when I’m full because I don’t want comments aimed in my direction. And maybe it’s time to finally meet those comments head-on. (A very scary thing for this non-confrontational gal to do.)

There is freedom, though, in eating the way you want to eat. No matter what that looks like or what other people will think of you. I found that freedom when I stopped dieting and now, again, when I realized that eating the way I eat (very slowly, being a picky eater, and eating half of what’s on my plate) is okay.

Are you a slow eater? 

Categories: About Me

Ask Stephany Anything, Round 4

Remember “Ask Stephany Anything”? I love doing this series during NaBloPoMo in November because it gives me a great weekly blog post idea. I did a few ASA posts during NaBloPoMo, but then got busy with my cruise and Christmas and end-of-year posts. I still have a few lingering questions from my form (and the blog post where I asked for questions), so I’m going to keep this series going for as long as I have questions. If you have a question for me, feel free to ask it in the comments or fill out my form!

From San: Would you ever consider leaving Florida and live in a different state?

I would love to leave Florida! I have lived here my entire life and I think it would be really special to live somewhere that experiences all four seasons. However, I’d need their winters to be mild, which is why North Carolina tends to be the place I’m most interested in living if I ever left Florida.

However, the thought of moving to a different state all by myself is terrifying! It would be really difficult to have to create a new support system and new routines in a different state. I struggle with change just moving from one apartment to another in my same city and moving to an entirely new state where I don’t know anyone would be hugely difficult for my anxiety disorder. So, I don’t see myself leaving Florida unless things changed drastically in my life.

From Suzanne: Would you tell us more about your blogging editorial calendar? How do you decide what to write and when? How long do you spend writing/blogging each day?

My blogging editorial calendar is not fancy. I simply use Google Calendar to plan out what I want to write each month. And truthfully, I’m only really planning out my Wednesday posts since I typically use Mondays for “What I’m Reading” posts and Fridays for TGIF or Five for Friday. Here’s what February looks like for me (just ignore all my actual plans, lol. The blog posts have a pink background):

As you can see, I have a placeholder for “What I’m Reading” every Monday. Typically, midway through the prior week, I’ll make a decision if I think I’ll be able to have three books ready to review by the weekend. If not, I’ll either remove “What I’m Reading” from that week’s planned posts or flip-flop Monday’s and Wednesday’s posts (if I think I’ll have three books ready by Tuesday). I like using Google Calendar because I can easily remove or move around blog posts. (For example, the “All About My Laundry” blog post has been moving around since October. I just know it’s going to take a bit of effort to write that post, and I haven’t had the time!)

How I decide what to write about varies! I keep a running list in my Notes app with blog ideas and will throw an idea on that list when inspiration strikes. (I think 95% of the ideas I get come from podcasts, ha.) Near the end of the previous month, I’ll sit down and plan out my blog posts (well, as I said above, plan out my Wednesday blog posts). Most times, I have enough ideas to see me through the month. I also have some recurring series that I cycle through that keep things interesting, like Snapshot of My Day, Three Things Thursday, Currently, Virtual Coffee Date, etc. If I run out of ideas, I’ll just throw one of those into my schedule.

Now, the real fun comes when I sit down to write. It usually takes me upwards of two hours to write a blog post (between writing it, sourcing pictures, editing it, etc). Not every blog post takes me that long. I can usually write a “What I’m Reading” post and a Friday post in under an hour. But more in-depth posts (like this one) will take longer. It’s usually because I’m not only writing, but figuring out how I want to structure the post. Do I want to break things out into different headings? Do I want it to be stream of consciousness? Should I start with this section, or this other section that I wrote later? I also spend a lot of time rereading and rewriting (you don’t even want to know how many times I’ve reread and rewrote my answer to this question!) I know I spend too much time thinking about these things, but I love the writing process and I love being precious about the writing I do on this blog. It’s just who I am.

I’m trying to get better at writing shorter posts. Not every blog post needs to be 1,000+ words and brilliant. Sometimes, a quick 400-word post that captures a small moment in time is enough. But it’s hard. I love to write, and I love to write long posts.

From Anonymous: I love name stories, so: how did the animal friends in your life get their names? And how’d you get your name? How do you feel about your name?

I really wish I had better stories for how I named my cats. When I decided I was going to adopt a cat, I started a name list in my phone. I had a long list of names I loved for cats, most of them human names because I love human names for pets! When I adopted Eloise, I spent a few days trying to pin down the perfect name for her. I had settled on Eloise or Freya and called her by both names to see which one fit better. In the end, she seemed more of an Eloise than a Freya. I have always loved the name Eloise because it’s so sweet and delicate. She mostly goes by Ellie, though, and she’s definitely an Ellie. I gave her the middle name of “Joy” because I adopted her during the holiday season, the most joyous time of the year!

About a week or two before I adopted Lila, I was at my mom’s Super Bowl party and my cousin was talking about the twins she had given birth to in October. (She was a surrogate for a friend.) One of the twins was named Lila and my eyes just lit up at that name. I thought Lila was such a pretty name and would be the perfect name for a cat! So that name was in the back of my mind when I went to the animal shelter to look at the cats. And there she was. The shelter had given her the name Lola and it felt like divine intervention. Just one letter off from the name I wanted to name my next cat? And she was totally a Lila, too. I gave her the middle name “May” since she has a May birthday.

Chip and Lucy were named by my mom, of course. She chose “Chip” because she loves chocolate chip cookies. He goes by Chip, Chippy, Chippy Boy, Chipper, and Chip-a-Dee-Do-Da. Lucy was chosen because she just liked the name. We were actually deciding between Lucy and Barbara, which was my grandma’s name. Wouldn’t Barbara be such a cute name for a teeny-weeny dachshund? Ahh! However, I was really pushing my mom to name her Peppermint Patty (since my mom loves York Peppermint Patties!), but she’s definitely more of a Lucy than a Patty. Lucy goes by Lucy, Luce, Lucy-Goosey, Goosey, Goose, and Lucy Girl.

As for my name, my dad originally wanted to name me Doogabock, which was a name he invented (and became my nickname for most of my childhood). My mom instead chose the name Stephanie (it was the 80s, after all) and wanted to make it look different, so she chose the unique spelling of Stephany. I hated my unique spelling growing up because it meant I could never get anything from those personalized kiosks that were popular in the 90s, but now I really love it! I like the unique spelling and I feel like the name fits me.

Do you know the origin story of your name?

Categories: About Me

A Tale of Two Doctors

I’ve been honest here that 2022 was a really bad year for my anxiety. After feeling like I had it pretty well under control over the past few years (even during the early days of the pandemic!), something happened last year where my usual mental health tactics were not working.

So I re-started therapy and tried to do other things that are proven to help with anxiety symptoms, like getting regular exercise and drinking less caffeine. But what has helped my anxiety more than anything is medication. I’ve been on the generic form of Lexapro for quite a while now (I think I started it in 2017, and have been on 5mg, 10mg, and 20mg over the course of those years). But it wasn’t until Lisa started to gently prompt me to consider talking to my doctor about changing my meds that something clicked in my brain, so I didn’t need to get any other doctor as there are many type of doctors now a days since getting a doctor degree is not that difficult, you can go online and find phlebotomy training if this is a career you like.

Sometimes I forget how Lexapro has altered my brain chemistry. It’s worked so well for me for so long that I always think there’s something more I could be doing to better manage my anxiety. More therapy! More exercise! More sleep! And while those things do help anxiety symptoms, there comes a point where medication may need to be investigated.

I know some people don’t like being medicated for anxiety. “I don’t want to numb out to life,” they say. But when you have anxiety like mine, when you can’t stop the spiraling thoughts and the nightmare scenarios playing out in your brain over and over again, when the overwhelming feeling of doom takes over, being numb sounds amazing. I want to numb out. I want to stop these thoughts. I want my brain to shut off.

Thanks to Lisa’s prodding, I scheduled an appointment with my doctor. Unfortunately, the GP I have been seeing for many years, whom I adore and who has such a warm, kind bedside manner, is on leave for another two months so I had to see her temporary replacement. I wasn’t thrilled about that, but I made the appointment anyway.

And I had the kind of appointment you dread as a fat person. It was the kind of appointment I had heard about from other fat people but had never experienced myself.

This doctor, a man, comes into the room and we talk about my anxiety for a short period of time. He recommends adding Wellbutrin to what I’m currently taking but doesn’t explain what it is, how it can help, what the dosage is like, how I should start using it… nothing like that.

Instead, he then proceeds to talk to me about my weight. He doesn’t connect this with my anxiety. He doesn’t talk about how eating certain foods or how exercise can help me with my anxiety symptoms. Instead, he couches it all in “concern” about my “weight.” I’ve never had to deal with something like this with my regular GP. She has never, ever brought up my weight like this. The only time we talked about it was when I brought it up. I wasn’t there to talk about my weight. I was there to talk about my anxiety.

I wish I had stopped this discussion in its tracks, but I’m an Enneagram 9 through and through, which means I am non-confrontational to a fault and just wanted to get through this conversation as quickly as possible. We talked about my eating habits and when I mentioned that I drink soda, he perked up. “Oh, there’s an easy change. Just drink diet soda.”

Hold on, what?!

I don’t think I’ve ever had a doctor recommend diet soda as an alternative to regular soda. That’s not a good alternative! Diet soda may not have the same amount of calories and sugar as regular soda, but it has other terrible chemicals and is not an alternative! If he had mentioned trying seltzer water like La Croix or talked to me about how to drink more water, I would have been more apt to listen to him. But telling me to switch from regular soda to diet soda… I quickly realized, this man is a quack.

He also brought up the option of medication for weight loss, which is something I truly, truly do not believe in. For myself, it is just not an avenue I’m willing to explore. And when he told me that his favorite medication to prescribe these days is Ozempic, I was D O N E with this doctor. Ozempic is not a weight-loss drug. It is a drug that diabetic people use to improve their blood sugar. But people have started to realize that you can take Ozempic and lose massive amounts of weight, so more doctors are prescribing it to patients who want to lose weight.

And what has happened because of that? There is a shortage of Ozempic. The people who use this drug for an actual medical reason cannot get it because a bunch of celebrities and influencers decided they wanted to use it to lose weight.

I knew all of this before the doctor brought up this drug. I had heard about it on a podcast and had read up about the shortage. And I wish I had called out the doctor when he brought it up, but yet again, I did not. I just tried to make myself as small as possible and kept my opinions to myself so I could get out of there. I just wanted to get out of there.

Whenever I hear of things like this happening to other people, I get so frustrated. Why didn’t they speak up? Why didn’t they challenge these people who are saying these things? But the truth is, it’s embarrassing to be told you’re too fat and need to lose weight. It’s embarrassing to feel like you’re this out-of-control slob who cannot manage her eating habits. It’s embarrassing to come to the doctor for a legit reason, and have him see me only as a fat person he needed to fix.

He didn’t see me as a patient. He didn’t spend time talking deeper about my anxiety issues and talk to me about my medication options. He didn’t bring up my eating habits because they could be linked to my anxiety symptoms; he brought it up because he saw a fat person. If I had been a thin person in his office, he would not have even thought to talk about my eating habits. And that’s the difference.

I cried in my car after that appointment. I had been so proud of myself for making this appointment and was feeling so hopeful for how this would help my anxiety symptoms going forward. And instead, I was given a quick medication and a lecture on healthy eating habits. It was so demoralizing.

Afterward, I decided not to take this doctor’s medical advice and instead of filling the prescription order, I scheduled an appointment with a psychiatrist. I had that appointment on Friday afternoon and goodness gracious, was it such a different appointment from this one. The psychiatrist, a woman, was kind and warm and informative. She went through my entire history with anxiety, depression, and other mental health issues. She talked to me at length about the different options available to me, and together, we decided to bump up my Lexapro dose. I’ve been on 20mg for a few years now, so we’re going to try 30mg and possibly go up to 40mg if I feel that I need that.

There was such a difference between these two doctors. I felt seen and heard and comforted by my psychiatrist, rather than dismissed and condescended to. For the first time in a long time, I feel hope when it comes to my anxiety disorder. I feel like I have the right team, between my therapist and my psychiatrist, to gain control over my symptoms and finally feel better for the first time in over a year.

Categories: About Me

NaBloPoMo 2022: The Finale

Happy November 30th – also known as, the end of NaBloPoMo!

It’s always a little bittersweet to end this challenge because I just have so much fun with it and the community that goes along with it. This year, we had such a great group, too, the largest it’s been in years (which is all thanks to San and her unfailing devotion to this challenge and getting people excited about it). While it was very difficult keeping up with everyone’s posts, I tried my best and I definitely have a lot of posts to go back to and read when I get back from my vacation. Expect some late comments on your posts, friends!

I am also really grateful to our non-NaBloPoMo-ers who cheered us on from the sidelines, keeping up with our array of posts and leaving thoughtful comments. There were a lot of you, but from the top of my head, I want to specifically call out Nicole, Kim, and Lisa, three busy ladies who always leave great comments and did an awesome job keeping up with all of these extra posts from us!

I am looking forward to slowing down my post schedule, for sure, and trying to catch up with comments on my own blog. I’m woefully behind!

I am excited to participate in NaBloPoMo in 2023, and I think I really want to challenge myself to write more stream-of-consciousness and shorter blog posts. I have an affinity for writing long blog posts that I spend a lot of time on, but there is also goodness in shorter blog posts. Just because I’m not writing and revising a blog post for over an hour doesn’t mean it’s not worthy of being published on my blog.

In fact, I think that’s where I’ll leave this blog post. I’m clocking in under 300 words so far, which usually is just the beginning for one of my typical blog posts. But why? I’ve said what I needed to say and it’s fine to keep things short and sweet. I hope the other NaBloPoMo-ers enjoyed the journey as much as I did. I’m excited to keep following along on your blogs once November ends!