Day 2... What's My Name?

I’m Ebony ‘Muthafuckin’ Farashuu! Yeah, I said it and I mean it from the bottom of my heart. Sometimes you just have to look in the mirror and remind yourself of whom you really are. Wake up! You are a fabulous person and if anyone dares to think differently they obviously don’t belong in your life!

It’s a process, and nothing happens overnight, but the moment you can legitimately look at yourself in the mirror, flaws and all, and truly understand what a wonderful person God created the day you were conceived….life suddenly takes a dramatic turn into the land of happiness. Stars shine brighter, sugar tastes sweeter, and the things that used to hurt your feelings only add fuel to your fire, making you a stronger person.

My self appreciating epiphany came to me one morning after I realized I’d spend the past few days crying over a man who did not love, cherish, or deserve me. He thought that he could say or do whatever he wanted, keep me crying, and then walk back into my life at his own convenience. I admit that I was a little punk and cried for the first two days, but on day three I woke up, looked in the mirror and said…

“Wait a minute. I’m Ebony Muthafuckin’ Farashuu!”

With that said, I dried my eyes, put on my heels, and readjusted my strut. When you remember who you are, no one can keep you in a place of discontent. When you know who you are, you realize that you can’t control someone else’s actions, but you can damn sure control how you allow someone to treat you and how you respond to another person’s ignorance.

No man wants to be bothered with a woman while she’s crying and snotting over him. He has her where he wants her and as long as she’s crying, he can talk all the shit he wants and then come back later when he feels like dealing with her.

The moment a woman realizes who she is and truly believes it…she becomes attractive, not only to herself, but to the man who chose to keep her under his heel when she deserved to be at his side.

A few weeks later, when I saw his phone number pop up on my caller ID…I re-stated that I was Ebony Muthafuckin’ Farashuu and sent that bastard’s call directly to voice mail. When you realize who you truly are…you also realize that you have no room in your life for those who would choose to put you down rather than uplift you.

Ebony Farashuu is a Queen.

I woke up happy this morning. After a long day that seemed to drag on and on, I carried myself to the gym yesterday evening and spent a little time getting re-acquainted with all of the joints and muscles I’d forgotten about while I was eating all of those sweets or serving up that third helping of pasta.

The twenty minutes I spent on the treadmill was a piece of cake. I even did inclines at a speed of 3.5 miles per hour. It wasn’t until I hopped off the treadmill and plopped myself down on that ab machine did I have to humble myself and give into the pain that comes with crunches.

Yeah, I had planned on doing 100 quick crunches but ended up barely making it through 50. I had to laugh at myself as I realized that the 20 pound weights I was pulling with my arms as I attempted to lift my head with nothing but the force of my non-existent abs could quite possibly give me a heart attack. I didn’t really understand that I had muscles in my boobs until I pulled one. That hurt.

So, after my earth shattering 50 crunches, I hit my favorite piece of equipment in the gym…The Elliptical.

It was as if the red sea parted and a sunbeam broke through the ceiling and shined down on that machine. I could almost hear angels singing, “ahhhhhhhh”.

So I hopped my out of shape ass on the Elliptical and decided that I was going to actually explore the different settings available. Wow! There is a setting on the elliptical called “personal trainer”.
After lying about my weight and setting the machine for 20 minutes, I was ready to go. I was doing well until that damn machine started trying to tell me how fast to go. “Push with your arms, now, pull with your arms, now use only your legs.” I was cool, huffing and puffing, trying to keep pace and look as if I wasn’t having problems.

“Prepare to stop and change directions,” Flashed across the LED screen.

“WTF?” went through my mind.

I changed directions and realized that going backwards was a lot harder than going forward but I didn’t want to look like a punk so I kept going until the machine mercifully told me to change direction again.

It’s funny, cuz right before I got on the elliptical, I updated my Facebook status. The message was simple.

“I’m on an elliptical.”

When I got off of that machine, I almost had to update my status again.

“I’m on the floor.” (Thanks JJ.)

I was sore, and I was sweaty, but I was happy. That workout had given me a much needed boost of energy and I felt alive. I felt as if I could actually achieve my goals. My mind felt unworried, my mood had brightened, and although my muscles were stiff, I had enough pep in my step to strut to my car.

When I got to work this morning, I stepped off of the elevator, and as the rhythm of my theme song, “badmammajamma” ran through my head… I adjusted my purse on my shoulders and proceeded to walk that special walk that is guaranteed to turn heads and make people wonder how I could possibly have so much energy at 6am.

Out of shape, but still out of sight. Feeling good is the FIRST step to looking good and, I feel damn good today!

Yep, Ebony Muthafuckin Farashuu has her strut back.