Stuff That Dreams Are Really Made Of

Love is- Love is not

There was a time when if you asked me, “Di Ana, what are you looking for?”

I would have, without a doubt, replied, “It’s just a chemistry; you know when you know.” Anyone else with me on this?

I have had amazing relationships with fireworks; in many cases chemistry was all we had. Well, ladies & gents, I am going to be totally straight up with you. In the past I have been rather immature at handling love. I chased beauty, success, and charm. And as far as the communication department goes, when things would get sticky, I shut down, shut out, and moved on.

Another confession: I was very critical about the physical.  The minute the physical appearance altered or the dynamic changed to “normal” I would say, “something shifted”, or we are not “working” anymore, and then the relationship would often break off.  I realized in some ways I only knew how to do chemistry; I did not know how to do relationships.

Now don’t get me wrong, I have had long-term relationships, and those loves have helped me grow in many areas where I have been, shall I say, rigid or difficult. When you spend a significant amount of time with someone you have to become more flexible, and less “set in your ways” if the relationship is going to accommodate each other’s needs. Despite these grown-up lessons, there has been a part of me that still holds on to my Peter Pan ways.  Maybe it’s the pain of heartbreak that made me put walls up of defense or maybe it’s confusing chemistry with connection & commitment.

As I grow up in love, I look at my friends thriving in long-term relationships/marriages, and I deeply admire and respect them. I notice a commitment to hard work that is rooted in a few things: compassion, understanding, and acceptance. These are things I have not experienced in my romances.  My relationships have been passionate, heated and often very critical. Quite the opposite, right?

Here’s the deal:  A real connection is the energy between two people when they feel seen, heard & valued.  I often confuse it with chemistry, and they are VERY different things.

Life does not begin and end at chemistry and candlelight. While dream vacations are magical there is a deeper acceptance and compassion that you must have to sustain the difficulties.  Looks will fade, money will come & go, and being able to accept someone for who they are when the smoke and mirrors are gone is where it actually all begins.

Love is patient
Love is kind
Love is growing up.


Fine Print: Love is always growing up when it is in its healthiest form.

Naked inquiry:
 Where has love grown you up?


Body Loathing

love story

My Body: “Not Quite a Love Story”

I was 9 years old the first time I binged and purged—that is insane!!  Knowing many a nine year old it shines a new light on how young I really was.

I grew up with a weight-obsessed family who talked about weight, a lot–their weight, other people’s weight, and at a young age I was far too aware of what was fat and thin. I also had curves. My mom meant well but labeled my frame “solid” which I heard as code word for “fat.”  I would see girls with tall lean legs or delicate arms and my Mom would remind me that we were not built like that. It is true I wasn’t but I heard a whole other message.

I remember dress shopping and she would speak to the salesperson in a whisper loud enough for the whole department store to hear.

“We need a drop waist dress,” Mom would say, “Di Ana has a sway back.”  I remember thinking, is that a deformity? It must be.

It wasn’t until I dated Michael G. when I was 26 years old that I realized a sway back was beautiful. I had an ass and he said it was sexy.  After years of struggling with bulimia Michael made me begin to love my body.  I decided to get a good therapist and into an eating disorder group to stop the loathing.  I realized Michael could not heal my warped vision of myself—that was my job.

Here’s the deal: my weight will fluctuate because I love food.  However, I will never destroy myself again because I am not in the body that society says is “perfect.”  It is true: I have a sway back.  It is true: I will never have one of those pixie frames.  It is true: I will always be aware when I gain and lose the same 10 pounds I have been trying to manage for the past 20 years of my life.

My heart breaks for all those women whose happiness depends on their weight. My heart breaks for those little girls who are told they need to be thin.

Finally, I understand and I no longer loathe my body, but rather I love it as a gift. Thank you, Michael, for helping me to see body love is much sexier than body loathing.  It’s a whole new world when you accept your body in all forms—I highly recommend it.

Fine Print: Sharing our stories releases our shame and changes history.  There is nothing to be shameful about; there is no one to blame.


Naked Inquiry: What stories will you share?


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