Hi! I’m Anka. My life here is an open book and I’m humbled to share it with you. I’d share my bacon with you but we’re just getting to know each other. I can get away with telling you stories about my meat-eating prowess. And, while it may be true that I have an affinity for living room dancing, if I were to claim that I lived a life full of good health, it would be a bold faced lie.
Looking for a new drug: I was, however, blessed with an insatiable appetite. My stomach doesn’t quit. My heart is hungry too. “Give me more. I want more!” Yet, I rarely felt satisfied. I would fill up on food, pour my heart out on others, and nothing. I still felt empty.
The game changer: I stopped chasing the next high after the birth of my third child. That’s when I quit eating Doritos in bed and started my gut healing journey. The pairing of quality food and fitness has changed my life. I’m finally off the self-medicating roller coaster!!
The irony: I still struggle. A lot. But I’ve learned to re-imagine my dreams, most of which haven’t been realized. Like the time I dreamed of becoming a lawyer and settled on a journalism degree instead.
Stumbling to become real: My holistic journey is more like a crooked path than a straight line. It’s been filled with thorns, processed food, too much caffeine, and too much wine. Whatever I could get my hands on to numb the pain. Some might call this weak or even say it’s ugly. But I say that doesn’t matter. Because once you’re real with yourself you can’t be ugly except to people who don’t understand.
Go easy on yourself, kid: These days I’m treating my body kinder. I’m nourishing my heart as well. I’d like to think I’m headed in a different emotional direction now. And when I come to my senses, I will remember all is grace. God’s grace changes everything.
Stop hiding and start shining: I believe greatness is trapped in everyone. I believe we’re all called to a higher purpose. The reality is that fear prevents most of us from doing anything about it. That’s why I started this blog. I needed a place to dump my imperfections, even if it means admitting I’m an awkward dancer.