I have a confession to make. I tell myself that I don't blog as much as I used to because social networking sites and general busyness gets in the way. In actuality, I don't blog as much because I have grown numb to life in all of its greatness and shittiness. I simply don't have the same passion as I did three years ago and I'm not nearly as self-aware as I used to be.

I'm completely uninspired without a best friend or a boyfriend to lean on and hide behind. Filling out those ridiculous surveys that people often post in Myspace bulletins makes me more and more aware that I'm alone. Living here certainly doesn't help any. When I first moved to Seaside, I hadn't spoken to anyone other than my roommate and my family back home for roughly 2 weeks.

There was a time when my sense of self was independent of my relationships with people. I used to hold my own just fine. Honestly, I haven't really felt comfortable by myself since Arjang left three years ago. I know he's not the one I was meant to end up with, but he asked me out at a time when I was happy being single, very secure with who I am, and not afraid to shine and be great. I really had no interest in forming an intimate relationship back then. I can't believe how hard I fell after the fact, and how much it fuckin' hurt to learn that the feeling wasn't mutual. I'm still pretty bitter about the fact that he got into another relationship literally weeks after telling me that he was scared of committment. I'm not nearly as irritated with him as I am with myself for becoming one of those girls who can't stand on her own two feet without a man.

I'm putting out this half-baked blog to remind myself, "I was there."

good things are coming our way...

I am in such a great place right now. This semester, I'm getting a lot more involved in the different campus ministries as well as the spiritual opportunities that I have off-campus. I have to say, this is making a huge difference. With no disrespect to non-Christians intended, there is a powerful, infectious energy about Christians who are solid in their faith that just makes me want to keep questioning and striving for something higher. I feel so incredibly blessed today, thinking about some of the wonderful company I've had in the past 72 hours.

I just had a long conversation with Kim, the flute player from my Sunday music ministry team after practice. She can talk forever, but she really has her head on her shoulders. As long as I have nowhere to be, I will gladly stand out in the cold talking to her for hours on end. Obviously. =P

She's also one of the few people I know who is happily married. My parents are not a great role model as far marriage is concerned, I admit it. Honestly, the only reason they aren't divorced right now is because my mom can't afford to leave. I respect them for trying their hardest to make things work, I really do, but I definitely feel like they rushed into it because of me. Most of the marital relationships I witnessed growing up were not very good ones.

After practice today, Kim mentioned taking her girlfriend out for a pedi tomorrow and helping this girl escape the clutches of her needy husband. I commented, sarcastically, about how fun marriage sounds. Immediately, backed with so much passion and so much conviction, she tells me about how marriage really is fun if you're with the right person. How she prays that everybody finds the happiness she and her husband have, even if they aren't feeling called to marriage.

A lot of what she said reminded me of a Scrubs quote from season one. Dr. Cox was babbling on to the shrink about relationships:

"The couples that are truly right for each other wade through the same crap as everybody else but the big difference is they don't let it take 'em down. One of those two people will stand up and fight for that relationship every time, if it's right, and they're real lucky. One of them will say something."

As I was listening to Kim and all of the shit she and her husband have gone through in about 15 years of marriage, it really didn't seem all that different from what my own parents have faced in about 23 years of marriage. Yet her marriage and their marriage are worlds away.

After hearing her talk and witnessing the good, the bad, and the ugly in the world of marriage, I refuse to settle for "whatever I can get."

I have no idea who actually follows this blog, and I swear I'm not whoring for comments or whatever when I say that but...if you're reading this, I absolutely love how free this rambling feels right now. Surrounding myself with a slightly different crowd makes a HUGE difference. So thank you. :)

I'd hate to bring yet another weight post, but it's on my mind a lot lately.

I actually had a great Weight Watchers week. I got my 15-pound award on Wednesday, tracked my food intake every day this week and am SO close to losing 10% of my starting weight. Literally, about half a pound. That's going to be another award. :)

Mentally, I don't feel like I've made very much progress. It bothers me when people act like all of my eating and body image issues are completely gone because I'm losing weight the healthy way this time around. I had a pseudo-flashback on Friday. It was more of a daydream as opposed to me remembering an actual event, but the scenario felt so real that I just completely broke down. I was alone, thank goodness.

The daynightmare:
I was visiting my grandparents and one of their Filipina friends. The lady told my grandparents, in Tagalog, "Ask the fat girl if she wants to eat with us." I don't speak Tagalog fluently by any stretch of the imagination, but I understood this comment just fine for whatever reason. I left the room and texted a friend, telling him to call me with a fake emergency. As soon as I had a "legitimate" excuse to leave and was out of sight, I bawled my eyes out (in flashback world and in the real world).

I've never been in that exact situation, but I could name many people off the top of my head who think of me as "the fat girl." A friend's mom once referred to me that way in her language. Another friend's dad went so far as to pinch my belly and make a snide "It will only get worse by the time you turn 25" comment. So many of my own relatives are not shy to tell me what they really think. Someone with good intentions once called me "fat hot." I don't always show it in the moment, but those remarks completely floor me. Floor me.

I guess it's a good thing that I'm healthier now, but there are still times when I look at myself and see nothing but fat. When not binging or starving takes a lot more effort than usual.

I'm scared shitless that I'll never lose that alias, no matter how much weight I lose. The fat girl.

I've been doing a horrible job with my weight loss lately. >< Last week I didn't write down anything I ate for four consecutive days. I also missed my Weight Watchers meeting. Because of work and classes, I won't be able to go until at least Wednesday or Thursday. I weighed in at home and had a small gain.

Today I made the mistake of having a slice of chocolate cream pie with my lunch. I only have five points left for dinner, and I don't even feel all that satisfied from lunch. Looks like I'm going to be sipping down a lot of tea between now and dinner...

I'm an awful person; whenever I see an unattractive, obese person walking around on campus, my reaction is a combination of "How disgusting!" and "Is that how I look to other people?!"

I'm not really sure where I'm trying to get with all of this monitored food intake and exercise, but I know that it's beyond my basic health.

time to be honest

Time to take on the aforementioned challenge.

"Be yourself. Above all, let who you are, what you are, what you believe shine through every sentence you write, every piece you finish."

--John Jakes

My name is Natalie Jeanne Echon Lennon and this is my story.

I am a virgin and I plan on staying one until I'm married. Part of this is because of my Catholic upbringing, but I have other reasons. I don't want great sex in a relationship to skew my perception of a guy who in the end isn't all that great. I've let some of the biggest jerks get away with not treating me right because I enjoyed the physical closeness.

When I was 18, I almost lost it up to a total scumbag. His name was Josh. He was my first serious boyfriend and he coaxed me into going a lot further than I ever wanted to. He had no respect for me whatsoever, and I should have known that from the get-go. We were making out on our third date and he kept on touching me in ways that made me feel like such a slut. I set my boundaries there and then, but the longer we dated, the harder he tried to push them. He called me a prude and blamed the Catholic church for brainwashing me and forcing me to repress a natural human instinct.

I don't know what made me stop him that awful night, but I can tell you that it was not a strong moment for me. I wish I could say that it was, but this whole entry is an exercise of honesty. We reached a point in our relationship where we had basically done everything but. He was a good kisser, but I hated the other ways he touched me. It was all about him and I felt like such an object. My stopping him was not an empowering moment at all. It was me, panicking. A sudden breakdown. Again, I wish I could truthfully say my last-second "no" was a strong moment, but honestly, I'm just lucky he didn't rape me. Truth is, I didn't demand any respect in that relationship whatsoever. I compromised my values because I didn't want to end up alone, because I didn't feel like anybody else would want me. He constantly told me that most women put out by the third date, that my religion was stupid.

My religion was often a subject of ridicule in that relationship. He left the Catholic church as a teenager and got into Paganism. He was constantly starting unwelcome "debates", hoping that one day he would sway me into leaving the church and having sex with him. He kept on bringing up all of the priest molestation scandals and how they were the result of sexual repression.

He's not the only one in my life who has mocked me because of my religious beliefs. The majority of my friends are either people who are forced to go to church by their parents and don't really honor their "religion" or outright atheists/agnostics. I have nothing against people who don't share my religious views, but disrespect is another matter entirely. When a person tells me that they're an atheist, I don't automatically write them off as immoral heathens who are going to hell. You'd think that I'd be worthy of that same respect, but most of my non-Christian friends basically think that I'm brainwashed, that faith isn't worthy of respect. They love the extremists like Pat Condell and Richard Dawkins who dub all people of faith mentally ill and don't think it's possible to be a scientist and follow a religion.

I recently learned one of the older Catholic traditions regarding confirmation. Whoever presided the mass, usually the bishop, would lightly slap the confirmandi on the cheek as a reminder that they must be ready to fight for their faith; that Christian life carries not only hope and promise, but responsibility and martyrdom that we need to be ready to take on. There are times when I feel like I'm constantly fighting in the name of my religion. I don't always want to. Sometimes I just want to be.

I can't stand people who have no respect for somebody else's faith. I know Christians are just as guilty of this as atheists and my heart goes out to those who were pushed away from the church by a smug Christian. Still, there are times in my life when it feels like it's only the atheists who feel the need to "save" brainwashed minds like mine. I keep a copy of Robert Ingersoll's Declaration of the Free in my desk and reread it everytime I feel myself starting to put all atheists in a box.

I have to laugh when people claim that my religion leaves me sexually repressed. I've owned more vibrators in my lifetime than the number of boyfriends I've had. I looooove to masturbate. I've already decided that my next bad breakup will justify the purchase of a vibrator over $50. While I believe that sex will be that much more special if I wait until marriage, I acknowledge that it's also biological need. I hate how even the more liberal sex education programs leave young people with the impression that there are only two safe options when you feel horny: practice safe sex or abstain. Not sure I would have wanted a masturbation how-to from my middle school and high school science teachers, but I do wish somebody would have at least put that out there.

I have moments when I feel absolutely gorgeous and I have moments when I could not feel uglier. I have the worst acne. Got my first pimple when I was 9 or 10 and still have awful skin at 22. I'm also overweight. 5'7" and I weigh 155. Before Weight Watchers, the number was even higher. I generally dress well for my size, but I am above a healthy BMI by a lot.

The extra weight is pretty much all in my tummy area. There have been multiple occasions where people mistook me as pregnant. Adults I can resent for their tactlessness, but when kids say it, it stings that much more. I've worked with kids in a wide variety of settings and I know very well that they just say what's honestly on their mind.

People have called me "fattie" and "acne-face". People have also called me "beautiful" or even "hot". I'm trying to not let any of it get to me anymore, good or bad. I don't want to live the rest of my life seeking gold stars or fearing a bad review.