Growing up there was a lot of partying going on in my house;
I just thought that was normal.
People were always over: dancing to music, relaxing in the hot tub, laughing, just having nonstop fun until the sun rises. I thought this must be how every family is – I take care of my little brother and they party. This is normal.
Then as I grew up I realized this was far from the truth. It wasn’t until the end of my senior year of high school that reality hit me over the head like a two by four. At that point, mom and dad had been divorced for a few years now and yet both of them still continued to party on a regular basis.
Weeks or even months would go by without hearing from mom because she was off partying with her new found boyfriend, and dad would drink away his anger and sadness every night with a bottle of VO and Pepsi until he was drunk enough to fall asleep.
I was at a standstill; I had no idea how bad things really were until that point.
My parents were addicted to several facets of life: drugs, alcohol, work, depression.
They were severe addicts who were on a path of total self destruction.
I began to wonder if I even knew who my real parents were, my sober parents… They’re never going to get better, they’ll never find sobriety. They will never be the parent, best friend, grandparent or support system that I would need as I began my life into adulthood.
I was in so much pain it was overwhelming. I started to get lost in a downward spiral of my own: an addiction with my body. I was obsessed with food, exercise, and calories. It was all I thought about:
“What will I wear today that won’t make me look fat?”
“You look like a hog, you don’t deserve to eat anything!”
“What about eating a little and working out for 2 hours today?”
“You are disgusting, get your fat ass to the gym!”
It was a great way to avoid reality but over time it continued to get worse.
The abusive thoughts started to consume me, taking every essence of my being. I was drowning.
I soon turned to drugs and alcohol to silence these thoughts of self-hatred, but it never worked.
They would always come back louder and more abusive than the last.
Looking back on it now I realize I was trying to become numb.
Numb the pain of no longer having my parents and never even knowing who they really are.
After two years of this self-destructive cycle of addiction I hit my rock bottom.
I was done being at war with myself.
I saw a commercial for personal training school and figured since I’m in the gym all the time anyway, I might as well get paid for it.
I started going to college and getting my life back on track; I wasn’t about to follow in my parents’ foot steps! I lost the weight, ditched the addictions and the best part, I found my passion: health, fitness and making other women feel as good as I did!
That was seven years ago and haven’t looked back. I have the life beyond my wildest dreams. I live in the most majestic part of Colorado, I have a boyfriend to die for, and I work from home motivating and guiding women into the body and the life they too deserve. Yeah, I’m pretty darn lucky, but not without a fight.
I have done lots of healing since that time and coming to terms with my reality was more heart wrenching than I could have ever imagined. But, you know what? I don’t regret it and I don’t wish for anything different. I wouldn’t be who I am today or where I am today if it weren’t for all those things.When life drops a huge mountain right in front of us, we only have two options.
We can feel defeated and quit, or find the strength within ourselves to get back up and climb up that sucker, no matter how hard it will be.
When I was lost in my own addiction (which was really just a distraction) I felt defeated and I gave up. “How dare life curse me with this?” I let my parents’ addictions not only destroy their lives, but mine as well. I let the death of their souls kill mine too.
There comes a time when we all need to take an honest look at our lives and ask ourselves, are we surrendering to one of life’s mountains? Are we walking away with our tail between our legs because we don’t think we are strong enough to take it on?
Believe me, I know how easy it is to just give up.
I have failed more times than you know.
I have been curled up in a ball on the floor crying for days wondering if life will ever get better.
BUT I found it in myself to get back up and try again, and again, aaaaaaaaand again, until success.
And you know what?
The reward when you get to the other side is more liberating, freeing and exhilarating than ANYTHING you have ever felt! ANYTHING!
*To feel like you are finally in control of your life and your health.
*That you finally get to be that person you have suppressed for so many years.
*To look in the mirror and LOVE whom you see.
*To handle stress with clarity and ease.
*To walk into a room with so much radiance everyone turns their head.
*To be so happy it brings you to tears.
If you are looking up at a mountain right now wondering, why did this happen to me, how am I going to get over this, and teetering with the idea of giving up – DON’T.
You can do this. You can. You hold within you all the strength and energy you need to get over this… and if you didn’t, life wouldn’t have given you this mountain.
If I can do it, so can you.
I believe in you…and you should too.
Sending you lots of love and strength,
About the author
Hi, my name is Nichole Kellerman, and I am a weight loss & lifestyle coach with the drive to help as many women as possible get fit, healthy and love the woman they see in the mirror.
Having struggled with my own weight and self image in the past (even as a personal trainer), I have now dedicated my life to showing women the way! Learn more about me at http://nicholekellerman.com