Hawaiian Supermom

I wrote this and published it privately because I wasn’t sure I wanted to share so much. To me, it’s kind of personal. I don’t like to talk too much about myself to other people unless I’m trying to get a job or I feel like I have things in common with them or something, but I’ve read other blogs that touched me because they were so intimate that I felt compelled to share a little more about myself.  So here goes:

Years ago, I made money off of the way I looked. Plain and simple. I modeled, and I acted and my agent gave me my share of the money.

Being a model meant I had to look a certain way, that I had to conform to the expectations of someone else. This meant I was constantly told that I needed to focus on my weight. But I’m Polynesian and it is a fact that we have higher body mass index numbers than any other ethnicity because our bone structure and our muscle content is high, but I wanted it so bad I did everything I could to make myself look the way I was supposed to look including developing an eating disorder.

I lost so much weight I fell way beneath the ‘healthy range’ but I was getting work so I kept at it. I went to acting classes, networked with the right people, got myself a speaking role on a big show. Then one day, this guy from California contacted me, and before I knew it, I had the chance to move to L.A. I had a legit manager who represented well-known celebrities, who was gung ho about working with me, I had really good teachers lined up and workshops to go to, and I also had a husband and a son. I didn’t want to leave them behind so I said, thanks but no thanks for the offer, I want to be with my family.

I’ve never once regretted my decision.

Today, I have five kids and you know what that means. I gained a LOT of weight. In fact, when I was pregnant with the youngest one, I was over 200 lbs. I had a hard time losing poundage but at that point, it kind of didn’t matter to me. I had what I wanted, which was a family, and I didn’t have to worry about the pressures I once had.

 

Then out of the blue, I started getting sick. We’re talking food poisoning symptoms every day for weeks so my doctor goes, ‘I think you should take some tests.’ I do, and I find out two things: I have severe gluten allergies, and I was borderline diabetic. Yes, was. After I found out that I could have a disease that could possibly kill me I made it my mission to get better.

See, I am not someone who sits around or feels sorry for themselves or complains. I read, I educate myself, I empower my mind and then I go for broke until I can make myself better. This is true with everything I do. That’s just me. When I want something I feel thankful that I am able to work hard to get it, and I don’t bitch or feel sorry for myself, or make excuses, I go– exclamation mark!

So it started with a normal well-balanced diet, then yoga, and then a couple of hours doing P90X and Insanity, and then zumba and kickboxing classes at the gym, and it graduated to weightlifting, serious hours of cardio (UFC gym’s fight fit, boxing, Daily Ultimate Training, Mui Thai, Brazilian jiu jitsu, ‘regular’ Crossfit) and paddling.

I don’t have one of those ‘look at me, I lost all this weight in 90 days’ pictures, because my body doesn’t work like that. I pack on muscle and the scale hardly moves. But I’m fine with that because I am healthier now than I’ve ever been. My body fat is now at the low end of the ‘normal’ spectrum, my skeletal muscle is in the ‘very high’ category, my BMI falls under the (Polynesian) overweight range, I am no longer borderline diabetic, I don’t pant when I’m walking up the stairs (which is something I used to do when I was skinny) I have energy and I’m happy. Most days when I wake up, I feel good on the inside and I feel good about myself.

 

After three serious years of working out for at least 3 hours a day every day and eating mostly vegetables, I realize there is no magic pill. There are no fast diets with guaranteed results, there is no easy way to get there.

The only way to get better is by getting off that ass and putting out a lot of hard work.

Just like writing.