Aug 112021
 

Summer heat and being on guard for the potential blood-sucking fire starters on my skin keeps me from my usual blissful eight hours of subconscious escape these days.

In the early morning hours when my mind is not quite exhausted, yet not fully present, I find my thoughts drift in and out of relived conversations.

My husband strangely threw out that he didn’t take me as reflective or aware, which made me question just how well he knows me and recalculate his own seemingly self-absorbed arrogance to think so little of my consideration of others while holding himself in perfect esteem. My more rational self presumes that perhaps he was kidding or just trying to be inappropriately funny as is sometimes his wont, but in a tired fog my mind still whirls around with numerous possible, and probably incorrect, reasons.

There are times when I see just how much he takes for granted and wonder what other ways he finds himself inaccurately superior to me and my ways. I think that he confuses my sharing out loud the thought processes of my mind as the same kind of personal judgment and actual beliefs in my core. It is in these circular meanderings that I can easily find myself uncomfortably aware of our differences.

Fortunately, I know that none of this is that significant and once I’ve had a chance to let my mind refresh all will be just fine.

Unfortunately, many of our married friends and various stories that we read have centered around the actual inability to refresh their relationships. The past year and a half have put extra stress on all partnerships, but even more so for those that may not have been totally solid in the first place.

The fact is that all relationships constantly require work whether in marriages or friendships or businesses. It is a balance of give and take, which ultimately means compromise – not competition. It may seem as if it is easier to give up, but one must truly determine if the grass is going to be really greener or not without rose-colored glasses 👓.

For me, life with M is worth any and every compromise I have to make. Before, with L, it was not and so I was willing to walk away. Although the consequences of a decision are not always easy to experience, the decision itself should be easy. Will life truly be better without the person in question in it? If the answer is yes, then by all means work toward making as clean a cut as possible.

However, if the answer is no, then consider what compromises you are willing to make to ensure that you do not lose him/her.

Often, we can get stuck in being stubborn and trying to prove a point. But, the truth is that it might be worth the so-called ‘win’ in digging our heels in.

Many marriages suffer as a result of lack of money 💰 or sex. Most partners will say that they still love each other, but one of the above causes stress or does not interest them. Usually, it is also a misled romantic idea that having both or either one will solve problems. Actually, not having either one (and both) can be the cause of problems.

Lack of sex

I’ve written about Japan before and how almost 100% of marriages end up with the woman no longer wanting to carry on their sexual relationship with their partners. In the same post, I think, I wrote about Matthew McConaughey’s statement about the need to continue to maintain a sexual connection in a marriage.

As a woman, I completely understand why women might stop making an effort and reject advances regularly. Our hormones go crazy and affect our sex drive. We are tired from playing multiple roles throughout the day. We may even not really ever enjoy the experience anyway. So, of course, we want to say NO, especially if we aren’t even going to benefit from the effort in the end.

Unfortunately, men can only take rejection so many times before they hit step one – get mad, then step two – get pushy, and finally step three – give up, which often leads to looking elsewhere. While they do not have to follow this trajectory, it is a little bit understandable that many do. (By the way, I’m not at all condoning affairs, etc.) Therefore, women do have some responsibility in this to figure out how to avoid this pushing away, but hoping they don’t go pattern. To put it bluntly, sometimes we just need to spread our legs and take it (obviously, only within a loving relationship)! It is but a few minutes (at most) in our day – every few days at most – and it gives our man relief and acknowledgment / appreciation of their manhood in our lives.

I realize this may sound somewhat barbaric or conservative, but I look at it as meeting basic human need and a necessary “giving” in the give and take balance of a partnership.

Lack of money

In most cases that I come across, it is the woman who worries about the financial stability of the household. Many men barely know how much things cost and so they just focus on the making of it.

Men trust themselves to be able to make money, survive, and/or take care of their families. They also “trust” us women to keep everything else moving along so that they can do their part.

Unfortunately, what I see in marriages/relationships that are struggling financially is a lack of trust for one or both sides to “do their part”. I’m not saying that it has to be the man who makes the money, but this tends to be the more common dynamic in the circles I live in. I imagine it is the same no matter who is the so-called breadwinner.

Trust has to be there in the agreement of the partnership. At some point, whether through discussion or default, a conversation/understanding has to be reached in who is going to be the higher earner. Therefore, when money becomes tight, there needs to be trust that both parties are working for the good of the household and trust must be there that indeed ‘everything is going to be fine’.

As a far too young couple, L and I had our struggles not just as married 20-somethings, but my trust in him was lost and consistently chipped away in every area to the point that it made my belief that life would most definitely be better without him an easy decision for walking away. However, with M and I, we had our struggles very early on in our relationship, but have continually built trust with each other in all areas – especially sex and money – so that every compromise is worth it for both of us.

To me, life has often been in clear shades of black and white. Sometimes, I acknowledge grey areas. However, in love and marriage, I truly believe that even in the foggy morning hours, choosing to take actions that satisfy my desire to be with my life partner is simple.

~T 😀

Aug 062021
 

There’s a vibe that wafts of creativity and reverberates an awakening deep within the soul. The inner creative envies the artistic skill of those who can draw the lines that reflect the curves and personality of an individual. Yet, at the same time one is inspired to weave together words and phrases that can similarly touch the unspoken.

It’s the smiles and appreciation for a craft that appears easy in the hands of the one holding the pencil, but knowing that there are hours of practice and never to be seen paper that goes into the art.

My first time in Montmartre began with a touch of the spirit in Sacré Coeur where historical significance overlooks the sprawling scourge of man’s seemingly successful attempt to destroy the earth. The juxtaposition of human ability to create both beauty and destruction is not lost on this “art mountain” (not its real meaning).

Yet, the energy that flows made me open up a likable perception of the city that had thus far eluded me in its attraction as one of amour 💖. What was revealed is that every city of scale can spark a flame once the right area or scene is found.

What is irrefutable is my adoration for the French/Parisienne architecture and iron balconies. Ever since I lived in the Middle East I have had an appreciation for a good balcony. Perhaps it originated from the tree seat my father built many years ago in an attempt to get me out of the house but still allow me scribble and read. The feeling of peace and calm I find in sitting high above the world and observing what is going on below is like no other. I feel connected to my spirit animal, the eagle 🦅, in its regalness and strength as it soars in the higher skies when I am on a beautiful and wide balcony.

So, when I wander streets I am often looking up and appreciating the facades that provide a space for observation, often saddened that those living inside are not taking full advantage of what they have.

When I see the world from the bird’s eye 👁️ view I realize how much mankind lives with their heads down missing all of the beauty and wonder that the world around provides. Like worker ants who only have singular missions for survival, I am discouraged by the unfulfilled potential of humanity when so many refuse to just simply look up and around.

I suppose that we cannot all have our heads up in the skies, but I prefer to dream, imagine, and work to create a reality filled with beauty, awe and inspiration. In this, I believe everything and anything is possible.

~T 😀

Aug 252020
 

In 2016, I decided to quit my job because I was at a breaking point and I was under the naive impression that being newly married meant that my husband would take care of me.

Without going into too much detail, that delusion was more of a nightmare of grandeur. Thankfully, my stubborn character did not despair at the reality that in my new partnership I need to be the one who is more financially conscientious. 🤷🏽‍♀️ That’s not the same as responsible… 😇

Fortunately, in a short time and a change of country, we have found ourselves in a better position with our financial situation where I could revisit the idea of quitting full-time work.

Although I am a hard-worker, take pride in my profession, and generally care about whatever I do, I have never been great at being under the thumb of authority. If given freedom to do my work and recognition for what I can offer, I can thrive. However, Japan is not the place for such work culture and my stubborn streak does dig in when it comes to my career.

So, when COVID19 hit and remote work was installed, I determined to find a way to ensure that I would never have to go back to working in an office again. Thanks to the law of attraction and our mutual desire to make our future lifestyle a reality sooner than later, this has come about as I desired.

Since we have decided to move to southern France in mid-October, it opened the door to paving the way towards becoming a digital nomad, allowing me to become a roaming artist at last and fulfilling my lifelong dream of pursuing being a writer.

Before the worrier-reader freaks out for me, don’t fret! I am still cautious enough that I will be working on a project-basis for my current/former company and continuing other freelance work as I also focus on building up The Universal Asian into a media giant!

However, as I am never satisfied with just a few balls in the air, I will also be transitioning towards creating my writer persona as OSH. Based on advice that I have read, I have created an author page, so feel free to follow that at OSHwriter.com. I’m also working on some other platforms and places to start developing a readership. 😀

Of course, I’ll keep on posting here as Tara since this is kind of like my sandbox for different ideas and the random meandering thoughts of my mind.

~T 😀

Aug 102020
 

Generally, I limit my social media interactions. For the longest time, I thought it was just because I do not care so much about what is going on in other people’s lives that I need to be updated regularly. However, just as its use has evolved, so has my reasoning for why I’m bothered by about 90% of what is out there these days.

Some time back someone recommended an author to me who writes about the peri menopausal/menopausal conditions of an aging woman from a rather humorous perspective – Nora Ephron. I read one of her books and it was indeed relatable and entertaining, but there was something that rubbed me wrong as I was reading her book “I Feel Bad About My Neck: And Other Thoughts on Being a Woman”. Initially, I thought it was the experiences she relates as a white, middle class, empty-nesting mother. Or, I thought perhaps I am just not yet old enough to appreciate it.

However, as time passed and I contemplated it more, I have found that the same niggling that bothered me about Ephron’s book is what irritates me about most social media posts (in particular, FB).

Some people are like me who post the various things they do in a day with a more upbeat tone. I try to share things to let those who follow me – particularly my family whom I don’t get to see often – that I’m still alive and enjoying life, for the most part. I do not post to have political discussions or to commiserate about the woes of my life. My outlet for that is this blog and it is one-sided mostly – as in, almost no one comments and even then there isn’t a back and forth dialog that happens on FB.

It is that aspect of commiseration that bothers me. Ephron’s book is one long commiseration for others in the same mindset and phase of life as the author. However, the tone of the pity party isn’t to uplift or to inspire, but to wallow and help others to feel okay about wallowing as well. In other words, the message is “Don’t feel bad about feeling bad, others feel bad too.”

While I understand the need to acknowledge that sometimes we just need to vent and have at least one person out there make us feel accepted and not alone, I do not think that this should be done on social media. Along the same vein, I do not think that social media should be used to present our lives as better than they are to give others a false sense of who we are.

People have sometimes asked me if my life is as good as it seems when I post pictures of my holidays or what I see and do. I always answer, YES my life is THAT good. It is. But, when I do have my down moments, I look to those around me to offer support and love or I call home to connect and address my homesickness. I do not put it up on a platform to make myself feel better by getting words of commiseration from people whom I may or may not really know and continuing a cycle of: not feeling bad that I feel bad because others also feel bad, so let’s all feel bad together….

The fact is that many people out there are truly struggling. Perhaps they can’t find work. Perhaps they can barely put food on the table. With quarantine and pandemic rhetoric, there are probably people suffering from depression, and isolation may not be serving them well. Therefore, posting about our inability to travel or go out regularly or having to cope with the ‘new normal’ – I hate this phrase, by the way -, we are promoting a negative message. For some, they may think, “If this person, who seems to have it all together, is moaning, then how will I ever get out of my own spiraling personal hell?!”

The truth is that many of us are quite privileged – we have the luxury to eat fully, bake regularly, work from home, order food if we don’t want to cook, see friends nearby, video chat with family from afar, and so much more. So, I feel that we should be sharing the little ways that we find joy in our days – a colorful butterfly, a flower blossom, ducklings on the river, the smile of a neighbor, moments to write or start new projects, etc. Spreading moments of joy and happiness provides others with hope and may inspire them to also see light in their version of darkness.

I’m not saying we should pretend that our lives are grand. I’m saying that the old adage of “If you don’t have anything nice to say/post, then don’t say/post it at all (especially on social media)” should be put into place, especially as we navigate our way through the current state of the world. If we all work toward bringing a little bit more light into the world, then even our own clouds of grey can be swept away.

~T 😀

Aug 052020
 

An entire month has passed as my attention has been divided and my words have drifted in the blank spaces of my mind.

Where has my attention been? Well…

I’ve just released the third issue of The Universal Asian.

It’s growing in readership and content, which gives me a sense of satisfaction and conviction that we are building a community and space that I have been envisioning.

Aug 302019
 

There is a thing called personal space.

The amount required depends on the person, culture, etc. I have gotten used to having less of it through living in Japan 👥 where this concept is a luxury even if on a person to person basis people would like more of it.

The other day, I knew that I had grown in my tolerance for close proximities to strangers when I only momentarily paused as someone stepped on the back of my flip-flop as I got off the train.🚃

This was again tested, the second time that someone stepped on my shoe on the same day.

Although my inner voice was screaming, “Back the F*@K off”, 🗣 my more “mature” voice took in a deep breath, smiled, waited for the foot to come off of my shoe and continued on. 🧘🏽‍♀️

Of course, there are multiple perspectives on this. One, ☝🏽I should/could choose to wear different shoes that might be less likely to get stepped on. Two, ✌🏽I could push back or give dirty looks at the offender to make them feel momentarily bad or confuse them as to the problem – either way creating a negative exchange. Three, 👌🏽 I can accept it for what it is and delay contemplation.

Obviously, I have chosen the latter of these options.

My contemplation 🤔 is, what makes it necessary to be so close to someone that you can actually step on the back of their shoe? Or, is it the make of the shoe in that the delay of the flip and flop is just that slow in that it unbalances the rhythm of steps for everyone? 😳

Whatever the case, I thought I would bore you with this anecdote, but interested in other theories and thoughts too because I can’t quite figure it out. In the meantime, I am wearing thicker soled shoes to thicken my patience. 😉

~T 😀


Aug 252019
 

Eating is one of my favorite things to do. Good food makes my legs move and my body dance. I am also wont to hum a happy tune as I chew and savor a bite of goodness. 💁🏽‍♀️

Some time back, I was talking to someone and relaying a story about an experience eating. As I was telling the story and saying, not for the first time in my life, that I hate to eat alone, I got suddenly teary-eyed. I had to smile to ward off more tears as I said it again, more for my own sake than the other person’s.

Perhaps it was hormones or the chemical imbalance of my emotions, but as I contemplated later the emotional reaction, I realized just how deep the feeling goes.

In my adoption papers, it says:

According to the foster mother, she (I) would eat much. In my (social worker’s) opinion, it seems that she (I) would take (eat) much because of her (my) lack of love.

Food seems to always have had an emotional connection to me. Possibly, eating was always a happy time with my birth mother. 🤱🏽

In my family, sitting around the dining table for dinner together was always one of my favorite times of the day. It was when we shared our days, talked about plans, and in general talked with one another – good or bad. Generally, it was less about the food (though I do love food!), but more about the socializing.

This attitude continued as I got older. University mealtimes were something to look forward to as time to catch up with my friends and we almost always met up in the cafeteria or went there together. It was an unspoken agreement that no one ever ate alone.

Never did I eat alone outside of my home until I was in my 30s. Even these days, I will limit the places that I consume food on my own to cafes or while on the move 😳in between locations. Also, I will often avoid eating at all until I am home where I deem it safe to eat by myself if I must. 🤷🏽‍♀️

More than this dislike for eating alone, I especially dislike eating in silence. 🤐🙅🏽‍♀️There is absolutely no need to be in the company of others and not be talking while enjoying some food.

Whenever I see couples together at a restaurant and they aren’t talking while eating, I feel sad for them. Or, when groups are out and most of the people are on their phones, it is disappointing even if they are ‘talking’ online.

In these cases, the full experience of breaking bread together is diminished. The Urban Dictionary defines “breaking bread” as:

To break bread is to affirm trust, confidence, and comfort with an individual or group of people. Breaking bread has a notation of friendliness and informality, derived from the original meaning regarding sharing the loaf.

Therefore, it is meant that through eating together and conversations we build trust and confidence with each other in a comfortable manner.

So, when I am with someone who doesn’t talk while eating, choosing to look at their phone or do something other than share the experience with me, I get sad and disappointed. When I am with someone who devours their meal without breathing, or the reverse, picks at their food with boredom, I get frustrated. I’d almost rather eat alone in those cases – almost! 🤦🏽‍♀️

In any case, it’s probably just me and my issues.

I get that, but if I can encourage everyone to develop an appreciation for food or at least the experience of eating with someone else, then I feel as if I’m helped to make the world a better place!

Let’s eat! 🍽🥰

~T 😀

Aug 122019
 

While waiting at the airport with my mother due to our seven-hour delay to get to Mongolia 🇲🇳, I did a lot of people watching. I am always fascinated by behavior whether as a social norm or an individual. Often, I find myself imagining what people are thinking or the background behind their actions. 💡

As we were sitting on lounge chairs to pass the time, people came and went to rest before boarding their flights.

Some people dropped their stuff on multiple chairs to lay claim to them while freely coming and going. Some people rested for a few moments and then jumped up to carry on with their business. 🧳 Still others sat down, like we did, pulling out devices 📱and settling in for a long wait.

The seats next to me were generally occupied by a brother and sister 👫, who were like any other kids these days, playing on their devices. Over the period of a couple of hours, they had spread out their things with a sweatshirt hanging on the back of a chair, bags all around, and they were in for the wait.

Finally, the time 🕰 to board their plane 🛫 came and they quickly gathered up their things to stand in line, leaving behind the sweatshirt.

Typical of the lounge seats, they are rarely ever unoccupied for long and soon enough a mother and young daughter swooped in to have their turn in the coveted seats. The mother noticed the sweatshirt hanging off the chair and yelled out to the girl who had just been occupying it. However, the girl was busy putting her things into her backpack 🎒 and no one else was paying attention; so the shout out went unheeded. 🙉

I wondered what the mother would do next while her daughter looked at her with a seemingly similar question. 👩‍👧

The mother simply shrugged her shoulders and said, “Well, I tried.” To which, her daughter accepted and they carried on. 💁🏽‍♀️

I almost laughed out loud. 🤦🏽‍♀️ Was that a reasonable claim to “trying”? 🤔

Only a couple of minutes later, the mother and daughter got up to stand in the same line as the girl who had left the sweatshirt behind. The sweatshirt remained.

Clearly, the mother’s trying was complete and forgotten.

In the meantime, I found myself debating on my own action. In my disbelief with the mother’s claim to have tried, I ran through my own mind 🤯: What is my version of trying? Should I get involved? What if the sweatshirt was actually important to the girl? What if it was the only sweatshirt she had? What if her dead grandmother had given it to her as the last gift she had received from grandma? (Like I said, I can create all kinds of scenarios and drama in my head!🤷🏽‍♀️)

Seeing the girl up ahead in the line, I processed these questions in the 30 seconds or so that they passed through my mind 🧐 and grabbed the sweatshirt. I needed to stretch my legs anyway. I walked straight up the line, asked the girl if the sweatshirt was hers – to which she acknowledged it was -, smiled as she thanked me and went for my walk. 👍🏽

It was a small act and took very little extra effort of “trying” than shouting out to deaf ears and giving up.

What affected me and still lingers in my mind is the human capacity of lying to ourselves on what it means to “try” without any deep consideration of the results in the action.

To me, one of the main reasons that people are unhappy is a lack of empathy and compassion for others or our possessions. That mother had no concern for the left behind object, nor what it might mean to the person who left it behind.

In our privileged world, we tend to take everything for granted. We lose a sweatshirt, we’ll buy another one. We forget a birthday, there’ll be another one. We haven’t talked to a friend in weeks, they’ll still be there.

Yet, what if that sweatshirt can’t be replaced financially, sentimentally? 😢 A little bit more effort could prevent an emotional disturbance. 🤩

What if there isn’t another birthday for that person? 😥 A simple message to acknowledge their life could make a difference in the final days. 🥰

What if your friend isn’t there next week? 😭 A quick “Hey, thinking of you.” could reconnect you and perhaps be just what was needed for both you and your friend. 😇

Everyday, we make choices. We love to claim that we don’t have time to do this or that choosing to connect with our phones or TV rather than “trying” to participate in the building of humanity. 😔

Rather than express our annoyances or joys with one another, we bury our heads into our devices, or tell ourselves that either we or they are unimportant. Thus, we don’t really ever “try”. 🤐

The mother and daughter in the story sadden me 🥺 because the daughter learned from her mother that both objects and people are only worth a minimal amount of ‘trying’ and any conscience-ness can be shrugged away with “Well, I tried”.

As a humanist, I believe we can do better and that we have a responsibility to “try harder”. 💪🏽

~T 😀

Aug 072019
 

Having weekends to myself has been the most challenging in terms of how to pass the time enjoyably, but also meaningfully for me.

I have loved fireworks since I was little, but in the US we can only enjoy them once a year really. However, it was always my favorite part of the 4th of July picnics that my family would host. Each year, they got bigger and better, but honestly, once I saw them in Japan nothing ever compared.

Every night, we can see the Disneyland fireworks from our bedroom window, but M thinks I’m crazy to get excited for them. He also felt lukewarm about the shows put on in the UAE, so I figured this was a good chance to go see some summer fireworks and he would not necessarily be disappointed by missing them.

The only issue with attending any major event in Japan is the crowds. It doesn’t matter where you go, if it’s an event, you’ll be sharing it with thousands of other people. So, I decided to be proactive in minimizing my crowd-discomfort and bought a ticket to ensure that I would get a seat to enjoy the show. Plus, I would have a safe place to aim for to keep me from being overwhelmed with too many people.

Despite my planning ahead in buying a ticket in order to avoid the chaos involved with attending summer fireworks festivals, I ended up on the wrong side of the river. How would anyone ever know this?!

While I do fully appreciate the Japanese complacency to follow rules to the letter, I am not such a kind of person when efficiency proves doing so to be completely out the door. The nice staff lady tried to tell me I had enough time to walk another kilometer, get on another train and then find my seat on the other side of the river, all I could think about was that I’d have to return to this side of the river when all is said and done to get home; thus why I thought my seat would be here.

So, taking advantage of the fact that most would not assume that I wouldn’t follow the rules, I snuck back in to the riverside and walked down where people were not on their previously saved blue tarps – the peanut gallery.

I found a nice little free space amongst those who most likely knew better than to consider buying a ticket and knew that one could just show up to find a grassy spot for the viewing.

While waiting for the show to start, I listened to my audiobook and observed as a solitary individual within the sea of chattering people in groups or couples who had come together to experience ‘summer’ culture in Japan. Although it would be basically impossible to merge into a giant BBQ event in the US, it’s rather easy to blend with the crowd of unknown faces while remaining in my own private world looking forward to the moment when the dark sky becomes alight with colors.

What is it about fireworks that people love? What is it about them that I love?

I can’t really say. But, there is something awesome about seeing man’s talent for shooting up bombs of fire that burst into colors, shapes, or designs. In a way, it’s how I imagine the ‘heavens’ with lights blended together into a glorious mass of color.

Edogawa is said to have 14,000 fireworks making it one of the largest shows in Tokyo. The hour long display was marvelous. It was fun to oooh and awwwwe with the crowd and feel a part of the whole audience. Plus, I got to play with my camera to capture the lights!

Click on the pic to see more!

~T 😀

Aug 022019
 

While some people choose to go into a sauna to sweat out 😥 the toxins in their body, the summers in Japan 🇯🇵 work just about the same when you step out the door. 🏝

The weather has drastically changed from rainy season ☔️ to sweaty season 😓. Although I don’t feel that it is that hot in terms of temperature, the humidity makes the 91 degree F into something in the hundreds 🥵. It also means that despite a cool-ish breeze, it is impossible to open windows to let the air circulate in the house due to the dampness that will surely enter instead. 💧

Thus, it’s nothing by ‘dry’ function or straight AC all the time.

Somehow, though, I think I have gradually adjusted to it and accepted that the next month or so is going to be filled with trying to remember to take a hand towel 🧖🏽‍♀️ with me everywhere to wipe the sweat from walking between air-conditioned locales.

In a way, this has timed well with my decision to do a food detox. Since I don’t particularly like to cook, 🙅🏽‍♀️👩🏽‍🍳 and especially don’t enjoy doing it for just myself, it was a perfect time to give it a go.

Although I regularly do intermittent fasting once or twice a week to maintain my weight, I found that my body was getting used to it and I was gaining more than I liked. Therefore, I decided to try a full-on five day cleanse. 💁🏽‍♀️

This means that I did the following:
*Drink warm freshly squeezed lemon 🍋 water in the morning in lieu of tea or coffee.
*Drink water or sports drinks throughout the day (to fight the humidity sweats).
*Drink dandelion tea at night with a few more glasses of water.
*Have a simple smoothie of half a banana 🍌, frozen berries 🍓, super-green powder and fruit juice or water on the few occasions when I felt weak or just wanted a variation of liquid.

After six days, actually, I returned to food, but following Lyn-Genet Recitas’s _The Plan_ to become more aware of what food my body reacts negatively to.

This is based on the idea that there are a number of ingredients that we eat that can cause bloating, indigestion, constipation, 🥴 etc., which are considered negative reactions. We tend not to pay attention to how our bodies react to the food that we eat because we eat everything altogether and do not carefully consider which specific thing we ate could have caused the reaction.

As I have become more and more sensitive to food, air, nature, etc. as I get older, I have noticed an increase in skin issues, digestive concerns, and more. Therefore, I would like to investigate 🤔 in a natural and methodical way what my body is doing with the food that I put into it.

Even on the detox, I have noticed that my throat has slowly been constricting 😲 from either lemons or dandelion tea. I’m leaning towards the dandelion tea as the culprit since it is the newest addition to my intake list and as I’m allergic to grass, it’s probably related. Unfortunately, the symptoms can take days for me to realize what is happening since it does not come on instantly like other reactions that I can have. So, I am eliminating it now while keeping everything else the same for a couple of days (i.e. not adding in anything different or new until I see if the reaction in my throat goes away). If it doesn’t after a couple of days, then I’ll eliminate the lemon water as well and see if that does it.

In any case, I’m in a holding pattern now with the carrot-ginger soup 🥣 and steamed broccoli 🥦. Though, I think I will try the hummus I made with carrots 🥕 as well since these ingredients are not meant to be reactive according to The Plan (though I still could have reaction to these as well).

While my goal was not to lose weight ⚖️ exactly, I have already lost 3 kg (6.6 lbs) in just about a week. Some of that would obviously be water weight, though I feel as if I was drinking enough water to counter that! So, that’s a kind of perk. More happily for me personally is that the underlying 4-pack I’ve been working on at the gym 🏋🏽‍♀️ is finally showing itself since the flabby belly that was hiding it is starting to disappear. It helps me to see what areas to work on more in my workouts. 😜

So, the journey continues. I have another week on my own to not be overly influenced by my hubby’s eating habits 🤣😂 and to keep on experimenting with my food. Hopefully 🤞🏽, by the time he comes back I’ll have a base to be able to keep me on track (and maybe get him started?!).

I’ll keep you posted on what I find! 👍🏽

~T 😀

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