LadyRomp Inspirational Conference Call!

I am getting so excited to meet all of you!



LadyRomp is a place where people can go for great stories on everything about women. Anything involving today’s women and girls can be found here, whether it be motivational stories or messages, news, health, or inspirational women, the site equips and inspires women of all ages to go after their dreams and find their purpose. Currently, the blog is gathering business contacts and within the next year or so, editor Kimberly Seabrooks dreams of developing a real, vibrant community comprised of small groups with the use of The LadyRomp Inspiration Network.

janinehausif_1353949722_11Janine Hausif will be joining us on our 1st call.

Entrepreneur. Idea Maven. Creator.

Soon after earning her Bachelor’s degree in Communication in her hometown in Maryland, Janine immediately uprooted her life to Brooklyn, New York. One chance afternoon Janine noticed a large decal plastered to a local business’s window that read “Black-Owned Business.” She thought it would be great…

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Women’s Health: When the Man You Love Asks You to Lose Weight


Akela Stanfield

Writer, Learning Architect,Globetrotter, Life-long Weight Watcher

“What would you do if I lost weight?”

My best friend and I were in the throes of the same tired conversation we had every New Year’s Day: Are we more than friends? It never ended with any resolution.

He did not hesitate. “I would ask you to marry me.”

Just like that, we had a resolution. Never mind that I was wrist deep in a Doritos bag. He finally acknowledged my fat. Now we were getting somewhere.

It hurt. But, I was not surprised. By the end of 2012 I was well over 300 pounds and growing every day. I was gaining 2 pounds a month. I didn’t come off as someone capable of giving or receiving a lifetime of love and care. I didn’t even take care of myself.

I ate, but I did not move. Sweat was my mortal enemy. My major food groups were drive-thru windows, Harold’s Chicken Shack, and restaurants that served things smothered in cream or cheese. I was a ticking time bomb.

I had no discretion when it came to relationships. I could not get past my size. I thought the attention I received from men should be treasured since I was so overweight. My friend warned me to be selective. He tried to remind me men would flock to my beauty even if I had an arm for a nose. But his messages of discernment were dead on arrival. I was too easily offended and craved the validation he would not give. I dismissed the grief I heard in his voice when I had to tell him about an emotional abuse I suffered at the hands of men that had no business handling me at all.

For 17 years, he watched me grow up and out. I changed from a confident and curvy girl with lots of energy to an anxious and obese woman that spent her evenings on the couch with something fried, sweet, or both. He waited patiently for a glimpse of the self-assured girl he used to know. I presented an uncontrolled woman with no plan. He decided we both deserved more. I guess he figured it was high time to tell me.

I knew I deserved more. I wanted to take care of myself. I wanted to be healthier and lighter. However, I did not want to lose weight. Losing weight entailed a workload I was afraid of. I deemed it impossible. So instead of accepting his help, I yelled at him and told him he did not love me. Love would not notice the 300 pounds my 5’3″ frame carried. Confused, he just stared at me; he knew more than anyone how desperately I wanted and needed to lose weight. He alone knew all my secrets. He heard my disappointments. He hoped for my future. He refused to believe it could not be done.

“You can accomplish anything you want to. You always have.” That was his favorite refrain. I wasn’t interested in what I could do. So I got angry.

I spent a lot of wasted time working around his request that I love myself enough to become my best self. I dated men who accepted my size; they weren’t for me. I traveled all around the world; it was exhilarating but empty. I even attempted to get weight loss surgery; I chickened out at the last minute. I was running away from my problem without breaking a sweat.

The running brought me 20 more pounds and back to him, on New Year’s Day 2013, with more baggage than I left with. He was still my best friend. I was ready to change. Thank God he was ready to support. His workout playlists of Rick Ross and Michael Jackson make my 3-mile runs bearable. His rebukes of my scale obsession put healthy habits in perspective. Plus, every time time he shows solidarity by happily eating fat-free versions of his favorite foods, I love him a little bit more.

Starting my weight loss journey with him made me realize without a shadow of a doubt that he does not love me for what I look like. If he did, he would have kept silent, and married someone else. Instead, he invested in my personal success. He helped me realize that I am not my weight.

I too could have married someone else, and told him to jerk off. I could have hidden out behind my weight a little longer. Most men I dated believed my weight was a part of me because that was the narrative I sold them. I would say with pride, “I’m a big girl.” However, I could not fool a man that has loved me for more than half of my life. I started my journey because I knew I could not afford to miss an opportunity to truly show love and be loved authentically. No piece of sweet potato pie is worth that.

I used to worry I was doing this for him; I knew that was not sustainable. Now I know that I’m doing all of this for me. He was the catalyst, but I am the reason. I want to keep the best possible Akela around. However, I must admit there’s nothing sexier than getting your body in shape while your man happily cheers you on.

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Women’s News: Extra Weight? Extra Grace


By Akirah Robinson

I recently hit a MAJOR body/weight/exercise milestone.

No, I didn’t lose 10 pounds.

Nope, I didn’t finish a half-marathon.

Nah, my pants aren’t feeling any looser.

My milestone involves me… in the nude… looking in the mirror. And rather than beating myself up for what I saw, I gave myself grace.

Guys. This is a BIG EFFING DEAL.

You see, my weight has been a 28 year struggle, culminating in high school when I lost 70 pounds in the most unhealthy ways possible. More recently, I decided to do Jillian Michaels’ 30 Day Shred for Lent. Six days a week, I woke up at the butt-crack of dawn to do push-ups and let this woman scream at me. My results were so great that I decided to do her other DVD, Ripped in 30. It was like “How Akirah Got Her Groove Back” up in here. I thought I looked GOOD.

But then life happened. I graduated from grad school. My mom and I went on vacation. I started two new jobs. I had to study for my licensing exam. I launched a website. Oh, the excuses.

Once I skipped one day, it was easy to skip two days. And three days. Then four…

I don’t know why I thought I’d be able to wake up every day at the butt crack of dawn, for the rest of my life, to do push-ups and get yelled at by that crazy woman. It’s not like I do drugs. Because honestly, while I like being active, I don’t care about getting ripped in 30. More power to all the Jillian fans out there, but my main priority is teaching women how to pursue healthy relationships. So of course working out every day (in ways I don’t enjoy!) wasn’t going to last.

I’ve been working really hard to disassociate my weight from my worth. My pant size, my marriage, and my appearance have NOTHING to do with my value as a person. Sure, they’re a part of who I am, but they don’t determine my worth. They never have and they never will.

My humanity determines my worth.

(Yours does too.)

So that day, I stared at my beautiful naked body, acknowledged that I’m no longer ripped in 30, and said out loud:

“I want to start moving my body again. I won’t be a better person if my thighs and butt get a little smaller, but it’ll make me feel good. Because moving makes me feel good.”

And just like that, I hit my milestone.

This is how I see it. I can try to miserably do push-ups at the butt crack of dawn, every day, for the rest of my life. Or I can move my body a few times a week, the way I like to — by doing yoga, dancing, and occasionally jogging. I can buy clothes that fit me instead of feeling bad when my old clothes don’t. I can rock my one-piece instead of pining to wear a bikini… because I don’t even LIKE the idea of walking around in something that looks like underwear.

I can stop dieting. I can stop body shaming. I can stop mistaking “fat” as a feeling.

So I will.

I went to the gym this morning. Two hours later, I ate two chocolate chip cookies. The gym was awesome. So were the cookies.

I’m really glad my life has room for both.

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A Message From The Creator


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