Dream big. Dream without fear.

This is MY year(s) of big risks and big rewards, and of me standing up for myself and my happiness. Feel free to join in my journey.

(Have questions? Press the ask button or email strawberrykiwilife@gmail.com)

Despite getting home from drinks last night before 1am, I didn’t go to sleep until after 2am. Whoops.

I slept til almost 11 and my friends want to do something at 2. So I’m trying to convince myself I need to workout now. I’m almost there, but I am in bed and still sleepy. Ugh. Just get out of bed, Tiffany.

Granted, it was at least $20-30 more expensive than my hometown farmer’s market (largest farmer’s market in the region and absolutely phenomenal), but it was probably much less expensive and time consuming than trying to get all those ingredients from greenmarkets here.

AND I was really proud of myself because I resisted all urges for cheese, cookies, pastries/breads, and unnecessary fatty ingredients.

I did treat myself to a pound of split peas and a pound of quinoa. Going to try to make split pea soup. But without celery because I generally don’t like eating celery.

Even when I have to go awhile without a workout, usually I can just do a little less than the last strong streak. I usually do 90 second running intervals at a pace faster than my jog pace. I increase my pace over time and the number of intervals.

Last week I had a GREAT workout and I’m not entirely sure why. I hadn’t worked out in a couple weeks. But I’m pretty sure I spaced my workout perfectly in between meals and got myself revved up and motivated.

I didn’t get to work out for a week and a half. Last week, I pushed myself really hard and needed a break to rest. By the time I recovered, I started working really late hours helping a high profile project team at work reach its deadline.

10 days pass and I had some uncomfortable conversations about my failing self body image perception with my boyfriend.

So I motivate myself to get back to the gym. 

I set a goal of 12 “sprints” and I realize 3 sprints in that my body is crashing. Usually I play mind tricks with myself to get myself to that goal, but I realized very early on that I am not getting to 12. A few sprints in and I had to pause my workout to prevent myself from collapsing. The physical pressure on my skull was overwhelming. 

I got myself to take longer walking breaks between sprints than I have in months, maybe even a year. I pushed myself and dug deep to find 10 sprints in me and then walked a slow pace the rest of my distance goal. The pressure would return even when I would raise the walking pace over 2.5 mph, so I ended up walking the rest of the distance at that pace.

It was awful. I guess we all have our off days. And my boyfriend pointed out that every little bit helps and I got out there when a lot of people didn’t.

Still, pep talk aside, I feel disheartened. At least I’ll get a workout from cleaning my apartment. It needs some serious cleaning.

Tomorrow is a new day.

One in white for my future wedding dress?

My sister and her fiancé are going to the courthouse to get married in 2 weeks. It’ll be a family reunion type of day. My mother told me today she included my boyfriend in the dinner reservation. 

I was grateful and thankful that she would include him as if he’s family. I cautiously asked him if he would be open to going, giving him the breakdown of all that will be in attendance. Grandparents, aunts, uncle, great-aunt… everyone.

He said he’d love to go and meet my relatives.

The way he embraced it without fear or hesitation just made me fall in love even more.

I’m incredibly happy with my boyfriend. I found the love of my life. I don’t know how in the world I could’ve been so blessed to have found a love like him.

At the same time, our relationship has brought me unhappiness. He doesn’t make me unhappy. Not at all.

I spend all my time now wondering if I should’ve moved to NYC at all. Because I miss him more than I can bear.

I hate the distance. I hate it. I have never liked it. I’ve not gotten used to it. Every day I’m sad that I can’t cure the woes or celebrate my ups with touching and being with him. 

There is so much that is lost and broken about only seeing each other on a screen. Like he’s not really there. Like I’m not really whole.

We make incredible sacrifices for each other and I KNOW he loves me. Not just because he tells me. And he knows that I without a doubt love him. 

And whatever it takes to be with him, there isn’t a question as to whether I will or will not.

I like that we have our own lives. We’re independent people. But we miss out on so much of each other’s lives. Even telling each other through the screen isn’t the same. There is energy in stories lost by the screen. There is so much I could’ve experienced with him by being there.

I honestly don’t know if I’ll be staying in NYC long-term. Because if I have to choose between the two, I’m choosing him without a hesitation.

The stress and anxiety of being in a foreign city and acclimating to such a big move and ALL these changes in absolutely every aspect of my life is daunting. But the anxiety of missing him compounds that exponentially.

It causes me to cry and stress eat nonstop. I never used to snack. And now I’m eating sweets and junk food regularly. And I can’t stop. I can’t.

So then I’ve gained a lot of weight from the anxiety. I am having trouble fitting in my clothes. Honestly, my body perception has caused my self esteem to tank. I don’t want to leave my apartment. I hate my body. And I just find myself in this out of control spiral of unhappiness.

I just can’t get myself out.

So while I’m incredibly happy with him and I know I’m spending the rest of my life with this man, I’m unhappy with myself. Its worse than its ever been.

Conversations like these with my love aren’t comfortable, but afterwards, I feel so much better.

I had planned on staying in last night. Then my friend asked I wanted to go get omakase. Expensive but entirely worth it and I only do it once in a blue moon.

The train we got on ended up being express but didn’t say anywhere. So we ended up 10 blocks from where we needed to be. So my friend and I decided that it’d be fun to bar hop our way back.

We started at a great Spanish wine bar. Giant glass of wine the size of two. Then we went to an upscale sports bar. Atmosphere and cocktails were decent but it smelled like sweat. Then we landed on a cocktail bar near her place. It’s new. Only 6 months old.

And I fell in love. The bartender really has a great talent for drinks. And the bottles behind the bar were all REALLY great liquor brands. All the great whiskeys back there. I asked him for a less sweet cocktail and he admitted the drinks on the menu were all REALLY sweet.

So I went dealer’s choice. Or in my indecision, he just made me a whiskey cocktail. It was GREAT. He had never served it before so he named it after me.

Food and one more drink there.

Then we went to meet up with another friend. We didn’t stay at the place too long. Took a shot, made sure our friend was ok, then we all left.

And now I’m hungover. Haven’t done this exciting and fun of a night in a long time. It wasn’t cheap but it was so much fun. Let’s just hope this hangover disappears.