I sat over an egg-white scramble this morning trying to figure out what my big struggle is. What is it that makes me less than happy at times? What is it that makes me feel alone? Why is there tension between what I say I want and what I actually do? Why am I so motivated one minute only to be completely shut off a few minutes later? What is going on with me?

It was a lot for an egg-white scramble to take, I know. What I realized is that I am constantly trying to be someone I am not.

There is this picture that sits on my mantle of me and four of the greatest women in my life. The team is comprised of the mastermind behind the program that changed me, a woman who constantly makes me be my best with the fiercest kind of tough love I have ever experienced, my coach who offers the more sensitive and empathetic approach that someone like me needs, and my battle buddy who has been in the trenches with me since the beginning. It’s truly a magnificent team; and in this particular photograph, I stand right in the middle with a big smile on my face, a “beast mode” shirt on, and the gear necessary to embark on our most recent adventure: a 12-hour team relay endurance run. I look happy, I look fit, I look adventurous, I look loved, I look like I belong there. Thinking back, I wasn’t at my lowest weight and I was nothing short of terrified for what we were about to do, but I was coming off of a week or two of true clean eating and exercising, and I felt good. I was happy, I was fit, I was adventurous, I was loved, and I did belong there. The picture shows it, and I love everything about that picture.

As I put each bite of breakfast into my mouth, I kept staring at the picture and thinking back to that time. It was only 5 months ago, but I no longer feel like that person. Today it hit me, in fact, that I am not that person right now. Right now I am the woman who still loves to motivate others, still gets exciting by planning new adventures, watches documentaries about people who have unrelenting determination, goes to transformational meetings to deliver some inspiration, shows up at 6 a.m. twice a week for a personal trainer, snoozes my alarm every other morning when I’d need to do the same for myself, engages in planning meetings for how to change the world, and leads a team of people twice a month who are trying to keep going. Meanwhile I am eating out more often than not, resting more than working out, and engaging in a host of other self-destructive behaviors that I am less than proud of. Mostly, I am all talk and no action. Even though I truly believe in the message I try to deliver, I don’t live it. Instead, I remember back to the time when I did, and I draw on those feelings in an attempt to keep myself authentic. It’s not working. What I am doing is not working. Today I looked at the picture sitting on my mantle and thought “I want to be that woman again.”

It is hard for me to do things solely for myself. I am motivated by sharing my story and helping others, which means I struggle to do anything in secret. If I’m writing, I’m doing so with the assumption that someone will read it because I have every intention of sharing it. I want others to understand me, but I wouldn’t be completely honest if I didn’t also admit that I’m seeking some kind of approval. In a time when I feel like a disappointment, when I think people can tell that I’ve given up, I feel desperate to make people understand that I’m not and I haven’t. I feel desperate to feel like I’m not and I haven’t. The same is true of any success, for me. I don’t ever sit in success by myself. I don’t ever take it in and enjoy it alone. I share it. I want to share it. I want to make people proud. I want people to feel motivated. I want to feel connection. I want to be more than just a fat girl.

Interestingly enough, there is one thing that I have never struggled to do alone: eat. I have no problem staying in my house for an entire day alternating between eating, sleeping, and Netflix. It’s not a good feeling, it’s not a happy or satisfying feeling, but it is one that I have no problem creating and experiencing all by myself. These are the posts that don’t make it to social media. These are the texts that aren’t sent to my friends. These are the videos that aren’t made, the experiences that aren’t shared, the stories that remain untold. These are also the moments that define me just as much, if not more, than any of my other public moments.

In a world where social media has taught us everything can and should be public, we have learned to give the appearance of a life we want to be living. I am smart enough to understand the reality behind the posts in my newsfeed. Not everyone is as happy as they appear. Not everyone’s life contains one adventure after another. Not everyone’s relationship is perfect. And, even if a complaining post about Comcast can get 250 likes an hour, it doesn’t mean anything about Comcast, or people’s willingness to use it, will change. The point is, we have the freedom now to connect to as many people as we want, as often as we desire, about any topic- exciting or mundane- in our daily lives. It’s an unbelievable freedom that can be viciously deceiving or authentically liberating, and we get to choose.

Hence, I return to my original point: I am constantly trying to be someone I am not. It is suffocating. I no longer want to be “Tate, who lost 100 lbs” because the truth is THAT WAS LAST YEAR! This year “Tate has gained 40 lbs” so let’s get the story straight. I no longer want to be “such an inspiration” based on something that I’m not being true to anymore. It’s uncomfortable, so much so that I often feel anxiety about someone finding out the truth. I live in this half reality where I am open, vulnerable, and honest, but with a huge asterisk after each word.

* I am only going to be open, vulnerable, and honest with you to a certain extent. As soon  as shit gets real- embarrassing, shameful, disappointing- I am going to conveniently omit.

Thus, it’s time to come clean. I want very badly to be the woman “who made it.” I want to be the woman who completely changed her life and now stands before you happy, healthy, and absolutely rocking a normal-sized pair of jeans and a sleeveless shirt. I want to be someone who has no problem being perfectly satisfied by a healthy meal. I want to be the one who stands in front of a crowd of hopeless people and offers hope. I want to be someone who makes you feel like it’s possible and you’re capable of anything you want. I want all of my ideas to come to fruition. I want success. I want adventure. I want to achieve something that required hard work and true discipline. I want love in all forms. I want a complete mindset shift and the confidence and focus to know I won’t go back. In a time when my gallery is filled with progress pictures, I want to finally feel like I am the woman on the right side of that final split screen- the “after” picture.

The truth: I am not that person yet.

The power of YET.

I’m reminding myself this morning that this is okay. I don’t have to be there yet. It is okay that I am exactly where I am, and even possible that I am exactly where I supposed to be. It’s not ideal, but maybe it is necessary. Maybe this is supposed to teach me a lesson. Maybe this is the bump in the road that knocked me down, and the same bump that will make me that much stronger when I overcome. All of this is okay. What is NOT okay is pretending (to myself and others) I am already there. It’s untrue, it leads to passivity, and it creates for a massive emotional blow every time I am reminded that I’m not there yet. Also, if I sit back and think about it, it is me selling myself short. Surely, I want more than this.

I plan to share this post because that’s how I am. But I must admit that this is not easy for me. Truly accepting that I am not where I want to be yet is very hard. Realizing that my ideas, dreams, and goals appear to be miles ahead of my motivation and actions is a tough pill to swallow. It is scary to know that I am the only one who can close that gap, and to understand that if I don’t I will never be all I am meant to be.

We would like to think that everything will somehow still work out the best way possible regardless of our own actions, but I personally don’t believe that. A part of me wishes I did so that I could continue to passively live my life and still become extraordinary. That would undoubtedly be easier. Unfortunately, I think people squander their potential all the time. I see people who have derailed from life’s tracks daily, and despite me believing wholeheartedly in their potential, I know some are lost for good.

To say that I am afraid of being alone, afraid that nobody will ever fall in love with me, afraid that I will never be completely happy, that I won’t have the chance to have a family, or ever really know myself, etc.- all of those ‘fears’ are widespread and often shared. Those fears don’t sink much past the surface as long as one holds the hope that “there’s still time.” To say, on the other hand, that I am afraid of never being who I am meant to be…that is debilitating. It stops me in my tracks, makes me emotional, and saying it out loud causes the oxygen in the room to vanish. I simply cannot let that fear become my reality- it can’t be an option- and every minute counts.

Today I am learning to accept that more work must be done to close the gap. Today I am choosing to stay true to my actual story: I am someone who has come very far, and who wants to go much further. I am someone who still has a lot of work to do, and that is okay.