My Last Fat Summer, and Hello Again, Beautiful You!

wedding shot, black and white

So a few years back, okay, so maybe SEVEN years ago, I was super thin and super cute.

And then life happened.

I got happy and got married, and being married to an Italian is no picnic.

Nope. It’s all PASTA.

So that was the first twenty pounds.

But then, as many of you know, I got really really sad. And, apparently, when I get sad, I eat. And, that led to a size or a size and half up.

Eventually, that sadness led to a misdiagnosis. And that misdiagnosis let to a bunch of medication. And that medication led to a BUNCH of weight gain.

Like, seriously, a BUNCH.

I’m not gonna say how much.
Cause, well, SHAME.

But, things are working out. The misdiagnosis was revealed. I stopped all medications.

And, I’m less sad.
Not completely NOT sad, mind you.
But, less sad.

And then I got a job. A fabulous job I love.
And things are looking up.
Except my kids are still leaving.
And, I’m still horribly sad about that.

But the job is awesome.
And, just for today, Mr. Delicious and I are awesome.

I’m just kinda sorta completely fat.

So, I’m ready to do something about it. I joined Weight Watchers. If you want to sign up, you can find me there as @funnestever. And we can do this thing together.

Cause, whether you like it or not, life is just better when you’re not dragging around half an extra person with you.

And, oh by the way, my lovelies, I have MISSED you.


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With Deepest Thanks. Adieu.


Dearest One,

With deepest appreciation I extend my deepest thanks for all that you have given to me these past five years.

You’ve given me your attention.
You’ve given me your truest hopes.
You’ve given me the depth of your wisdom.
You’ve given me your trust.

And I am so very grateful.

I’ve decided to go in a different direction for the next year, and so Life After Tampons is going to go dark for 2017.

If I can be of service to you during this year, please let me know. You can just hit “reply” to this message and I’ll be there.

I wish for you every beautiful thing for the coming year. Every beautiful dream. Every beautiful wish. Every beautiful memory.

All of it.
Coming to you.

Thank you for the all of the all of it.

Yours in love and service,

Jennifer Boykin

photo: woodleywonderworks, flickr

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What Futility Looks Like


Making cookies at Casa Jen:
First the dog ate the pound of butter coming to room temp on the counter (with wrappers).
Then the dog puked everywhere all day.
Cleaned up puke.
Cleaned up puke.
Cleaned up puke.
Then made cookies.

Then dog ate the cookies.

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Becoming a Warrior of Hope


The world feels completely bat-shit crazy right now.
Cause it kinda completely is.

If you’re going to survive the crisis — and you are, my love — you are going to have to fiercely protect the pathway to your heart.

Here’s what makes that tricky: most of us want to DO something about the somethings around us.

Here’s what makes that tricky: on a global scale, most of us don’t have any power to effect change.

Here’s what makes that tricky: we know it. And yet, we still FEEL it.

In times of crisis, it’s helpful to revert to the basics: supper, loving exchanges with whomever we meet, giving where and when we can, and LETTING GO of those damn things we cannot change.

Which are legion, by the way.

Here’s what makes that tricky: not everyone around us believes in approaching life the same way we do. And, as we already know, the world is completely bat-shit crazy right now.

So, even if you have healthy coping practices, you are gonna face an almost continual assault by those who don’t.

And here’s what makes that tricky: we actually LOVE some of those people.

And so, they have access – proximal access to our hearts.

But remember, you’re protecting your heart from harm.

So, at the same time you are pouring love out of your heart, you have to close access to the deepest regions of your heart lest others who don’t intend to cause actual harm.

But here’s the thing, love: Hope REQUIRES us to feel the love and reject the fear.

So you’re gonna have to surround yourself with Warriors of Hope. (That’s “warrior” – NOT “worrier.”

Worry never ends well. Those who invest in it don’t understand the value of spiritual muscle. They are, ironically and unintentionally,  “hope rejectors.”

We can love them. But we need to think twice before we let them stomp around on all those tender parts.

I know, I know.
That’s tricky.

Love, Jen

photo: flickr, Kate Ter Haar

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