Actually, 5 reasons to date a girl in recovery from an eating disorder

A horrific article has been circulating around my facebook newsfeed like wildfire in the last two days. It basically gives reasons to date a girl with an active eating disorder. I'm not going to repeat the mean spirited quotations here, I believe they have been documented enough in the last few days. If you need to read it, google it. 

Instead, I'd like to change the spirit and write reasons to date a girl in recovery from an eating disorder. I realize this is at the risk of further stigmatizing those with eating disorders. I write mostly about women, even though I know many men are struggling as well. But I'd like to take a second and highlight why my recovery makes me unique, why everything I've been through makes me who I am today. 

1. "She's adventurous as hell." In recovery, you are encouraged to take on several challenges a day. This requires you to be the most courageous you will ever have to be, and it carries into other aspects of your life. Remember that day you burned your skinny jeans? The day you smashed your scale? The day you ate a whole bagel? That took everything you had in you, and it carries into every other aspect of your life. I'll climb every mountain, I'll say yes to every experience, because I remember how brave I am and what I have overcome. 

2. "She has a deep appreciation for life." We've been hospitalized for malnutrition, felt our bodies eating away at themselves, and come back with a passion for life, and buzzing with an energy we never knew existed. We are a force to be reckoned with. We appreciate our bodies deeply for their continued functioning, even with all we've put them through. When we stand on top of mountains, or write papers for classes, or get hired for jobs, it's more significant than just the simple task at hand. It has a whole other meaning because there was a time when none of this was possible. 

3. "She has been through tons of therapy and desires functional relationships" The group therapy, the family therapy, the DBT skills therapy. She knows how to recognise emotions and process them healthily She knows how to voice her opinion and her emotions, functionally. She recognises passive aggression and will not stand for it. She practices self-care and knows how to set good boundaries for herself. 

4. "She is unbelievably creative" To keep an addiction, like an eating disorder, hidden for years we have to be extremely creative. To recover, we have to learn how to positively channel that creativity. We have to come up with creative ways to battle self-destructive thoughts, create new pathways in our brains, creatively break years of bad habits, and years of negative self talk. 

5. OH YEAH... "She loves and accepts her body!" How unique in our society, to accept one's natural body weight and not be constantly dieting. She has a radical acceptance of the size of her natural body weight and stopped fighting it when she entered recovery. She is confident, and wears clothes that fit and flatter her body. She feels powerful in her body, is not obsessive about dieting, and uses her abundant energy in other more important aspects of her life. 

The girl who has fought an eating disorder is brave, confident, creative, sets good boundaries, and has a deep appreciation for being alive. This is why my recovery makes me a unique, strong, passionate individual. Take it, Return of Kings.

On Journaling and Affirmations

I've been making some positive forward movement in my life lately. After being on the recovery panel at the Eating Disorder Symposium in September, it reminded me of my responsibility to the recovery community to keep advancing myself emotionally, and keep educating myself, so I can continue helping others. 

First, I've been journaling. I went to a journaling workshop at the NEDA conference in DC and made some amazing discoveries about myself. So I've continued the trend. I couldn't believe what emotions I was able to process and what surfaced for me when I let myself write, uninhibited, for even just a few minutes. We started by identifying three aspects of our lives that were causing us stress or shame. Then we wrote about one of those aspects for five minutes. I was able to identify emotions of stress, shame, embarrassment, disgust, abandonment...the list goes on and on. I had no idea I was feeling each of these emotions. Part of emotional maturity is being able to pinpoint these emotions and process through them healthily. Journaling is helping me get there.

The second thing I've started doing to keep myself moving forward is that I've started reading affirmations. My roommate is okay with me taping affirmations all over the house and I get a daily positive affirmation email. Affirmations help me surround myself with positive energy, and are verbal reminders to treat myself with respect. Affirmations lead to self-empowerment. I used to think I was above affirmations, that I didn't need these words of encouragement around me, but I've found that having Marianne Williamson quotes around the house (my favorite "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be?") is empowering and encourages me to be the best version of myself. 

Today, I decided to combine the two and journal about today's affirmation. I would highly encourage you to do the same thing. Journal about what this statement means to you...

I am unique in time and space. 

How are you significant in time and space? How are you unique? When I started asking myself these questions I was able to go from head to toe, including my spirit and energy, and outline the things that make me unique. I drew a sketch of myself and pointed out all the things about me that make me unique. These included the dimple on my cheek from when I ran into a boat trailer when I was a kid, my stomach full of laughter, my brain capable of processing complicated emotions and situations, my legs carrying me up mountains, my feet dancing, my arms supporting others, my hands creatively writing. 

I am unique in time and space. 

Writing about how I am unique makes me go from a place of disconnect with my body to a place of connection. This is a huge step for someone who's spent years disconnected from their body. I'm allowing myself to appreciate the little things my body does for me and I'm allowing my body to be my ally, allowing my body to be unique. This is part of forward movement. Affirmations and journaling are allowing me to embrace my uniqueness.

How are you unique in time and space?

Intuitive Exercise

I can't go to the gym anymore. I'm relieved I'm not teaching anymore, so I don't have to set foot in the gym again. I don't believe in gyms. Here's why:

My History: I have had a gym membership since I was ten. No ten year old should be "working out." They should be outside, exploring the world, playing tag, and figuring out how their body moves in space, not trapped in a building lifting weights, measuring cardio and calories. This began an unhealthy relationship with exercise I've spent the last few years repairing.

The Numbers: The gym is nothing but numbers. How much can I lift? How many calories can I burn? How much resistance can I put on the elliptical? Being surrounded by numbers takes away the intuition of exercise. The way my brain operates, I get too focused on the numbers. I get obsessive about the numbers and I stop thinking about how I feel. I stop listening to my body and just try to accomplish numbers. As though my worth is numerical. I get obsessive about numbers instead of focusing on my intuition and knowing what my body needs.

The Scales: At the gym where I taught spin, there is a huge scale. Right out in the open, right by the water fountain. I have an involved history, a complex relationship with scales, and having that scale towering over me as I filled up my water bottle is haunting. I can be proud of myself that I never stepped on. I never jumped onto the crazy train and weighed myself. There is a huge conflict with intuitive exercise, scales, and numbers. For someone with an eating disorder, the number will never be low enough. It's predictable every time I step on the scale. If the number is higher than expected I freak out and take desperate measures to shrink my body. If the number is lower than expected, I congratulate myself for a split second, before pursuing the high of weight loss once again. Many can relate to this relationship with the scale. Before I smashed my scale (yes, I smashed my scale with a shovel, there's a video clip of it, it's awesome), my scale was my best friend and told me how to treat myself everyday. It dictated how I felt about myself and how I was allowed to behave, how I saw myself in the world. Since gaining my freedom with the bashing of my scale I will not step on a scale, it gets in the way of taking good care of myself. Stepping on scales takes away your intuition about your body. It assigns you to a number. I refuse to be a number anymore. To be more intuitive I step away from scales, and numbers, and listen to my body's needs.

The Mirrors: They are everywhere, reflecting me back an image of myself I'm never sure is accurate. An image that can change day to day, even minute to minute. Having distorted body image, and a desperate need to body check, is dangerous when surrounded by mirrors. Body image is how one sees themselves. Someone with a distorted view of their body will perceive their body as much larger than reality. This can be triggered by negative emotions, feelings of shame or guilt, or feeling stressed. When I'm upset, suddenly I perceive my body as many pounds heavier than I was even a few minutes earlier. Mirrors reflect this larger body back at me, encouraging me to take measures to pursue the ideal body type, as though if I changed my body, my mental state would improve. This is how mirrors wreak havoc on the intuition.

Intuitive exercise, for me, is listening to my body; resting when I am tired and playing when I am energetic. I even stopped using the word exercise, because it's triggering. I use the word play. Going outside and breathing fresh air, running, riding, skiing, climbing mountains. All of this is my playtime. Intuitive exercise is feeling your energy and how it manifests in your movement, how you move through the world. All of this takes place outside of a gym. Be good to your body. Listen. Get outside and play.

The Power of Sharing Your Story

This is a really exciting day. I'm taking the privacy settings off my blog and inviting you all to be a part of a community and a cause. I'm learning that the more people I share my experiences with, the more people I can help, and have a positive effect on. If you have not been here before, welcome. Enjoy. Please share with anyone you think can benefit. Thanks for reading.

Eating disorders thrive in secrecy, isolation, and shame. To combat eating disorders, over 600 people came together to share their stories, educate, and advocate last week at the annual National Eating Disorder Association Conference in Washington, DC. There was no judgement of anyone's experience, just curious inquiries. Everyone at the conference knew that those of us in recovery are fighting the fight of our lives, we didn't have to explain a thing. People were there for all reasons; clinicians, family members, and those there for themselves. We were surrounded by knowledge and stories, experiences, and a passion to fight the eating disorder epidemic. 

Three hundred of us took this passion to our nation's Capitol, in the pouring rain, despite the government shut down, and we lobbied for eating disorders to be recognized as mental disorders so insurance companies would cover treatment as such. We lobbied for legislators to join the National Eating Disorder Awareness Caucus. This would request a study from the Government Accountability Office (GAO) to research prevalence, cost to society, and mortality of eating disorders. We explained that these disorders are extremely complicated, hard to understand and more research needs to be done on them. We explained the caucus and the FREED Act (which would improve access to care, research, and education of professionals). We spouted off statistics; that 30 million Americans are struggling with this life threatening disorder. But what they were most interested in were our stories. How I've been dieting since I was 8. How I developed a full blown eating disorder at 14. How I went to treatment for 101 days when I was 21. How I'm watching my peers pay off student loans and I'm paying off treatment. How I'm doing really well now. I'm really lucky. These are our stories and they are powerful. I've said it many times that my story is not unique. 30 million in the United States, and that doesn't count the sub-clinical disordered eating population. 

I had the pleasure to speak to House member Cheri Bustos. I felt I represented all women struggling with eating disorders when I informed her that my story is in no way unique. The statistics are horrifying. I was proud to put a face on eating disorders, and let our legislators know that this is a problem that needs addressing. 

If you have a story to tell, you can let the legislators know. Send a letter of advocacy. NEDA has made this really easy. Go to www.myneda.org/caucus and fill out the form. The letter is already written, you can personalize it, or just send it to your representative. 

Remember eating disorders thrive in secrecy, isolation, and shame. Take action, take power away from the eating disorder. There is momentum for these initiatives, now that they've seen us all over the Capitol. We've got a case, we've got a cause. Keep fighting the fight of your life. This experience was a chance for me to wear my recovery as a badge of honor. I'm proud of where I've been, what I've been through, and who I am today. There is power in sharing your story and bringing light to an issue that is in no way shameful. There is power in advocating for the millions of people I wish were not going through what I went through. Keep fighting, advocating, and educating.     

Desecration...Working on Worshiping

The Ironman was held here in South Lake Tahoe last weekend. An Ironman consists of a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike ride, followed by a 26.2 mile run. It snowed at upper elevations the night before the competition and, the morning of, the water temperature was twice as warm as the outside air. There are photos of the athletes in the transition area: they are barefoot, in speedos, on a frozen ground while volunteers, decked out in snowsuits, help them into their cycling gear. There's a photo of one of them slipping on the frozen ground. It actually takes your breath away imagining how cold these athletes were at the time of the competition. I've heard that women competitors sat in the transition area, shivering, for up to 45 minutes before getting on their bicycles to continue on with the competition.

In conversation about this particular Ironman last weekend, one of my customers mentioned she believed that to do these kinds of distances, in this kind of weather, is a "desecration of the human body." We bantered for a while, asking, "What were they trying to prove?" "Who were they trying to impress?" "What is the point?" "You are hurting your body at these extremes." A desecration. That word really struck me. For days leading up to the event I kept thinking about how brave the athletes were: to get into that cold water, to get out into freezing air and have a wind chill on a wet body for over 100 miles. Not to mention the extremes of the distances. These people were my heroes. I've always wanted to do an Ironman. A desecration. I'm not surprised, when I think about it, that those who hurt themselves, and push their bodies to these limits, are my heroes. Those who desecrate their bodies, for some twisted reason, are my heroes. The experience couldn't have been fun. It couldn't have been good for a body. A desecration. Why do we idolize those who desecrate their bodies? Why do we insist on putting our bodies through the wringer? We deprive our bodies, of food, of sleep and rest. We push ourselves to unhealthy limits: running through painful tendinitis, going to the gym when we are sick. We use unhealthy methods to process emotions: drinking, overeating, over exercising. What are we trying to prove? 

This reminds me of the letters I've written from my mind to my body and my body to my mind. In general, my mind is always angry at my body for having needs and never being able to keep up. My mind is a dictator and my body is constantly being punished. My body desperately wants my mind to listen to and take care of simple needs, to not push it so hard, and accept it for what it is naturally. 

I can relate to people who desecrate their bodies. We use our bodies to prove something to the world. We use our bodies to express emotions we do not know how to articulate. We use our bodies to get attention. We see our body as a project, something to improve, instead of an ally, a temple, something to be worshiped. 

How have you desecrated your body? How have you worshiped it? I am working on forgiving myself for all the pain I've inflicted on my undeserving body, working on seeing my body as a temple. This starts with looking at the reasons I desire to desecrate. Why I desire to escape. Why I desire attention. What do I really need and why do I think changing my body or expressing using my body will get it for me? This is where the work starts. Working on worshiping.  

Perfectionism and the first day of school

I am a straight A student. I feel like I always have to have the answer. I feel like I have to know everything. I am embarrassed if I am not the smartest. I have perfect attendance. I do more than my fair share of homework and turn it in on time. This is the perfectionist in me. This is how I operate as a student. Perfectly. 

In the past the first day of school is full of anxiety. What if I'm not the smartest? What if I don't have the answers? What if my pen runs out of ink? What if I'm late? What if I go to the wrong class? What if I don't already know everything? I walk fast to class. I'm an hour early (seriously). I check, double check, triple check my schedule to make sure I'm in the right place. I check, double check, triple check to make sure my phone is off. I sit with my clean, fresh notebook, waiting to take perfect Cornell notes. I don't talk to anyone, what if they interfere with my learning experience? I want to make a perfect first impression on the teacher. I sit there, waiting, "I'm perfect," I think, tapping my foot anxiously on the floor. I rearrange my desk so all the corners of papers are flush against each other, my sunglasses and water bottle are perfectly spaced, and I am ready. First one to class, I answer questions when no one else does, the pressure is on. I am the best.

I haven't been a student in years. Today as I walked to my first class it was clear to me that I've been working on self-acceptance, letting go of perfectionism, and embracing myself in the moment. As I walked to class, I noticed that I was not the fastest walker on campus. I was walking at a leisurely pace. I was in no rush to get to class, no rush to be the first one there, in no rush to prove that I'm perfect. "You have plenty of time. You will be on time. Do not worry. Everything is fine. Just because someone is walking faster than you does not make them a better student." 

I noticed it in the way I grinned and took a deep breath as I walked through the doors into the main building. I didn't know anyone. I didn't view everyone as competition. I saw everyone as an ally, everyone as a potential friend. It was empowering to feel everyone's energy and knowledge and embrace that I benefit greatly from collaboration, from connection. Perfectionism always had me shutting people out.

I noticed it in the way I introduced myself to people as they walked into class. I noticed it in the way I didn't care about introducing myself to the class, making a perfect impression. I am who I am. I am knowledgeable, studious, excitable, and in school to learn. I do not know everything, I am not perfect, but I'm excited to be me and be a student again.

Power and competency

One of the reasons an eating disorder is so appealing is because it makes the affected individual feel unique, it gives them something that belongs to them and no one else. It's yours.

My eating disorder was my baby. It was my best friend. It knew me better than anyone, and I knew it- inside and out. My eating disorder made me feel powerful, competent, and in control. Little did I know, at the time, the behaviors are an illusion of control. The behaviors are an illusion of power. I am wildly out of control while the beast in my head is controlling everything.

At this point in my recovery, I'm actively trying to engage in activities that I know make me feel competent and powerful. 

Power is the ability to do something of quality. Competence is the ability to do something successfully. My eating disorder, in many ways, made me feel both of these. Lately I've been noticing other experiences in my life that make me feel powerful and competent. They include:

Knitting! 

Knitting has a calming effect on me. I can follow a pattern (which makes me feel competent), I figure out new stitches (which makes me feel powerful), I finish hats, gloves, scarves, cozies quickly (that makes me feel accomplished), and I give these knit items to people who I love (which connects me with others). 

Mountain biking!

I ride the same trails frequently enough that I can feel my skills improving as the season goes on. Who knew riding bikes over rocks would be so fun and so empowering? I see a field of rocks or roots ahead of me, and have confidence in myself that I can roll my bike right through it. When I am still on top of my bike, after cruising through the rock garden, I am overwhelmed with pride and a sense of accomplishment. When I am out on the trails, I say "hi" to other riders, I am polite to hikers, often stopping to have conversations with them. This connects me with people and I always leave these conversations smiling, hoping the other outdoor enthusiast is smiling as well. This gives me the sense of connection that the eating disorder tried to take away. I set tangible goals while riding my bike. "I'm going to try to ride that one rock garden I've never ridden before." I accomplish them, and it feels so good. I feel powerful, competent. Real.

Tap dancing! 

Tapping takes a ton of focus. It takes so much focus, I can't think of anything else while tap dancing. This is the kind of escape the eating disorder used to give me, yet tap dancing is a real, healthy behavior. A way to go into my escape zone, without turning to self-destruction. Here's the part that's intriguing to me: Tap dancing was always something my sister was the best at. It was my sister's. Soccer was my sister's, dance classes were my sister's. Growing up I felt like I didn't have anything I excelled at that I could call my own. Enter an eating disorder. Taking a tap dancing class, realizing, and saying out loud, "I'm really good at tap dancing," has been really hard for me because I feel like I'm entering back into sibling-rivalry-land. I calm myself, reassure myself, and remind myself that I can excel at something without having to compete with my sister. I can allow myself to be good at tap dancing. I can reclaim dancing as something that is mine. Every time I claim something as part of my identity, the eating disorder becomes less and less of my identity. I no longer rely on it for my identity. I learn a new step, add to an old step, make progress, feel my body execute the dance step, and feel a sense of power and accomplishment. 

These are things that I can be proud of. This pride is more than I ever felt standing a scale as numbers dropped. Because this is real.Holding something I knit, made myself, is real. Rolling my bike over challenging obstacles is real. Hearing my feet execute a new dance step is real. In the last few months I've realized how important it is that I surround and keep myself busy with activities that give me a sense of power, pride, accomplishment, and competence.

Embracing Boredom

A terrifying emotion for me is boredom. If I feel like I could become bored, or am worried about being bored, I get really anxious. Boredom, to me, means I'm not bettering myself or accomplishing things. I'm not out bettering the world. Boredom means I'm not busy perfecting myself. Boredom makes me feel worthless. As though I'm not contributing to the world.

As I know, negative emotions, including feeling worthless or imperfect lead me to engage in eating disordered behaviors. I've come up with many ways of covering up my boredom; disguising it, masking it, hiding it, swallowing it. I tell myself, "I'm not bored...Only boring people get bored." But I really want to tear my hair out, because I am so anxious, because if I'm not busy doing something, I feel worthless. Augh!

In my spare time, to keep myself from getting bored, I play. My playtime, for me, is time spent outdoors moving. It usually includes riding bikes, running, or skiing. I had to stop calling it exercise, because exercise sounds like a chore. Playtime is more of a privilege, something I engage in when I have energy and want to feel how that energy manifests itself while moving through the world. I love getting outdoors and breathing fresh air, running through the wilderness like a wild animal. 

Due to the Rim Fire in Yosemite the smoke is so thick in the Lake Tahoe Basin, AIRnow.gov is rating the air quality "unhealthy for everyone." Not just "unhealthy for sensitive groups," it's "unhealthy for EVERYONE." The smoke has filled the basin for almost two weeks now, keeping us indoors, keeping us from our normal playtime patterns. And, you guessed it, I'M BORED.

I've read, knit, worked on training my dog, and I have terrible cabin fever. I'm working on processing boredom and everything that comes along with it. 

First, I admit that I'm bored. It doesn't make me worthless. It doesn't make me imperfect. I have to keep telling myself to take each day (and each minute of each day) as it comes and I don't need to keep myself busy with exercise. I need to embrace the action of sitting, "doing nothing". I have to be okay with sitting still, reading a book, watching a movie, not going outside to exercise.

Second, I have to keep eating healthily even without my playtime. I use exercise to justify my eating habits. I still do this even after years in recovery; I base how much I eat on how much exercise I get. And right now, we can't go outside and play because it is "unhealthy for everyone," so I have to work on letting go of the notion that I can only eat if I'm exercising. 

Gyms don't provide playtime, they provide exercise, and I find them triggering for me, so I haven't gone to a gym to get my wiggles out. I feel like I'm going crazy. 

My goal for today is to finish this blog post and embrace my boredom. I will not let it rule me. I will not let my boredom shame me. I will not let my boredom make me feel guilty for existing. I will patiently wait for the skies to clear. I will watch movies and knit. I will appreciate the day off from work. I will journal. I will not frantically try to fill my time with cleaning. I will try not to label myself as bored, but rather enjoying a nice, relaxing day off from work. I will tell myself that I deserve to sit and think. 

I deserve to take a few minutes of stillness.

How It Affects Us

I've been reading many articles about Miley Cyrus' performance at the VMA's. I'm sure we all have. These articles have explained in beautiful detail how her performance was racist, progressive for bisexuality, a "grinding declaration of her adulthood".

I'd like to voice my own opinion on the performance without slut-shaming, without the usual "oh, how sad, look what sweet little Hannah Montana has turned into," but expressing what I experienced while watching videos of the performance.

I don't have television, I didn't see the VMA's live, so when the cyberspace exploded on Monday about this performance I started doing research, watching videos (I had to confirm my age several times to watch the performance), reading articles, and, as a feminist, here's what I have to say:

What do performances like Miley Cyrus' at the VMA's mean for the rest of us? First of all, I had to "urban dictionary" the term 'twerking' as it was in most headlines. Miley threw this move into her choreography many times in her performance. The shock value of this performance was frighteningly high, as I feel it is for most things in our culture currently. I feel like people are banking more and more on shock value to get attention. Everything has to have shock value or it goes unnoticed.

We can claim we are immune, that these acts don't affect us. But media (television, magazines, advertising, and especially pop stars) dictate our culture and set standards as to how the rest of us are supposed to act, and how we feel we are supposed to be living our lives.

Typical reactions to the performance:
Slut-shaming
Shaming the music
Claiming it's not music
Shaming Miley, herself ("What a hot mess")
Claiming, "This doesn't affect me..."

But it does...and here's how...

Because Miley's performance was so shocking, it affects the standards and 'ups the ante'.

How it affects me:

• It affects the way I feel I need to dress
• What is appropriate to wear? The standards are changing now that a 20 year old can parade around in a gold bikini and rip off a furry leotard.
• It affects the way I feel people see me
• Do I need to act like that? Do I need to gyrate against the man who is in charge, to fit in?
• It reinforces women performing instead of experiencing
• In her book Reviving Ophelia, Mary Pipher explains that in adolescence, girls realize that in order to get what they want out of society, in order to fit in and not make waves, they begin performing instead of experiencing. They find out what others want from them and put themselves on display, take care of others needs, put others before themselves, perform, and become what others want them to be. They perform instead of getting in touch with their own wants, needs, and desires. Instead of taking care of themselves and experiencing their lives. Women become a display, we neglect ourselves and our experience to perform and fit in in order to survive. With her performance, Miley upped the ante. Imagine what her experience of that was like, if she had one at all. This further perpetuates the notion of women needing to perform instead of experience. She was completely on display, taking care of the man's needs, neglecting her own experience. If she was striving for her own, positive, experience I doubt she would be running around stripping leotards off, sticking her tongue out at the audience, and creating such a ruckus in the headlines.
• It makes me feel like I have to compete with THAT for attention
• Miley upped the ante of what is acceptable. How am I supposed to behave now? I'm not a prude, but she was so publicly sexual, it makes me question intimacy, and how our society is viewing intimacy now. 

How it affects daughters:

• It affects the way they dress
• "No, you may not wear that gold bikini and be Miley Cyrus for Halloween"
• It affects the way they feel they have to act
• Will twerking be the new norm at middle school dances (did I use that word right?)
• Her fan club is aging with her, "Are we supposed to act like that now? OMG!"
•  She was wearing pigtails, dancing with teddy bears
• Which means she is still trying to act like a child. By behaving that way while adorned with a hairdo associated with younger girls, prancing around with teddy bears, she is sexualizing children and still trying to appeal to her younger crowd. She is terrifyingly reflecting child pornography. I think this was the most upsetting part of the performance for me, and I haven't seen it mentioned in any article anywhere.

How it affects sons:

• It confuses boys as to if that's what they're supposed to be attracted to
• It changes their expectations of women
• Adolescent boys are confused as to what sort of girls they should be giving attention to, what kind and how to give that attention. This performance gave a display of women that now boys may expect that sort of behavior from girls, that is confusing for men and women. 

That's it. I don't think anyone actually took her seriously as much as we were embarrassed for her, but it's acts like this that 'up the ante' and change the standards. We need to take this, and how the media affects us, seriously.

Taking Care of Cody

I have an 11 month old Golden Retriever. His name is Cody. I've had him since he was 8 weeks old. He goes everywhere with me. He is the love of my life. Every morning, when he hears my alarm go off, he comes over and gently puts his head on the bed, ready for his morning pets. We walk downstairs together to make coffee. As soon as he gets into the living room, he rolls on his back and looks at me, "I love you. Rub my belly." I cuddle with him in the living room while water for my coffee boils. This is how we start our day everyday. 

His ears perk up when I walk into the bathroom, as this is where I keep his food. He starts wiggling when he hears me scooping kibble into his bowl. A glucosamine pill and plenty of kibble are set in the living room and quickly scarfed down. Cody loves to eat.

Cody greets me when I get home from work. I open the door and see his nose poke around trying to get to me. He's wiggling, bumping into me, excited to see me. And, almost immediately, he's on his back "I love you I'm so glad to see you. Rub my belly."

Cody gets two meals a day, one with a glucosamine pill for his joints. Cody gets Dentastix. Cody gets brushed almost everyday. The house is littered with his toys. Cody gets two walks a day, no matter what. Cody gets caressed, pet, and loved. I tell him hundreds of times a day what a good boy he is and how much I love him. 

Cody runs beside my bike, he stays out of the way of the wheels, and darts into bushes chasing squirrels. He runs up ahead, stops, and looks back at me, "I'm so glad we're biking today. Watch me run!" He checks in to make sure I'm still part of the pack and then takes off running through the woods. He drinks out of my Camelbak and takes breaks in the shade. 

We went on a really long bike ride yesterday. It was much more than I bargained for. Cody ran the whole time. I watch him closely for signs of exhaustion and he didn't show any. Today Cody looks like he's hurting and I feel awful watching him hobble around like an old man. I know I pushed his limits yesterday and I am heartbroken about it. 

I take really good care of Cody. I realize that the way I pushed Cody yesterday is reflective of the way I push myself in my daily life and am furious with myself for it. 

I push myself well past the point of exhaustion on any given run or ride. I'll not eat sufficient nutrients to support my body during exercise. I won't eat nutrients to support daily activity and I'll expect my body to function normally regardless. In terms of self-care, I don't spend much time taking care of my needs, taking care of myself. I don't spend on positive, loving thoughts directed at myself. When I look in the mirror I am devastated by what I see and berate myself for not being thin enough, not having the perfect body. 

Cody looks at me and sees nothing but positive energy coming his way. I take really good care of Cody: I brush him, feed him, walk him, make sure his water bowl is always full. All while I starve and dehydrate myself. 

I need to start treating myself the way I treat Cody. I would never starve Cody or make him go without water. I would never assume his needs are unnecessary or unwarranted. I will never push him athletically the way I did yesterday. I take really good care of Cody. I spoil him because I love him. I wonder what my life would be like if I spoiled myself because I loved myself and believed I deserved it?

I would drink when I am thirsty. I would eat when I am hungry. I would cry when I am sad. I would run until I was tired and then STOP. I would look in the mirror and send loving energy to my body. I would acknowledge that I have needs. I would believe I deserved my needs to be met.  

Remember that one time?

Having an eating disorder means your mind is occupied with thoughts of weight, calories, food, the size of your jeans, what you ate earlier, what you ate yesterday, and what you're going to eat later today. All the time. It's obsessive. It feels non-stop. Like an ipod of self deprecating thoughts on repeat. For those in this struggle these thoughts are everything. When I'm really struggling I judge everyday by how my jeans feel, what I did or did not eat. I judge everyday through the eyes of my eating disorder, and that's what makes up my life, what makes up my memories.

I've started to look around and see how other people judge their lives and create their memories. A phrase comes to mind. "Remember that one time?" I have a vision of people sitting around, laughing, reliving their greatest memories. "Remember that time Joey did a back flip off that bridge into the lake?" "Remember that huge party we used to throw every Fourth of July?" "Remember that one time...?" Fill in the blank. People are out there living their lives, existing without eating disorders. These are real memories. Real life. 

I think of my memories and they include:
Remember that time those skinny jeans finally fit?
Remember that time I had to put a belt on cause my pants kept falling off?
Remember the first time you threw up?
Remember the first time you stepped on that scale?
Remember all those times you said, "I ate before I came"? 

These don't count. 

This is not a life lived to the fullest. 

My latest goal is to start noticing all the times in my life I can laugh with friends and say, "Remember that one time...?" I want to start making real memories that have nothing to do with my weight, food, calories, or body size. My life needs to be full of activities that occupy my mind and keep me engaged in a healthy life.

When I look back on my life, I want it to count. What memories are you making?

Short post on Eating Disorder Awareness

I watched Matt Ryd's Eating Disorder Awareness video this morning and several things struck me. Watch it, it's beautiful and powerful. He brought ED awareness to me, someone who's had an eating disorder for 11 years. I am sorry to say we lost this powerful voice last week. Donations are being made in his name to NEDA and ANAD.

First of all, he had a quote that was powerful to me... "What?! I thought eating disorders were a teenage girl's disease." This hit home with me, because I'm 25 and still struggling with something I've been fighting since I was 8. Even in the last few weeks I've been thinking, "Geez, why haven't I outgrown this yet? Isn't this a teenage girl's disease?" I have to keep reminding myself, as Matt Ryd reminded me, eating disorders strike all age groups, all races, all genders, and all sexual orientations. That I'm not out of line in my struggles. That anyone can be struggling with an eating disorder and I am not alone. I have to remind myself the same thing with depression. I keep thinking to myself lately, "I feel like a melodramatic teenager. Shouldn't I have outgrown this by now?" Matt's video reminded me that depression can affect anyone, not just melodramatic teenagers. He reminded me that what I'm feeling is real, and validated my emotions and mood swings. 
Even for someone who's struggled for most of their life, it takes a powerful, brave hero like Matt to stand up and remind me that I am not struggling alone. I am not alone in recovery. His quote, "You know someone with an eating disorder," was powerful to me, because I am not public about having an eating disorder. I often wonder how many people I could impact if I was public about my struggles and about my recovery process. Matt was brave, a hero, and an inspiration to continue on my road to recovery. Rest in peace. 

Taking Up Space

I've never wanted to take up space. I've never wanted to attract unwanted attention. Never wanted to be seen as having needs or even therefore existing. I usually apologize for taking up space. But the other night I took up space. I had needs. 
I went dancing/clubbing with my best friend. We got to the club right as it was opening. People scattered around the bar sipping drinks. The multicolored lights flickered around the dark, empty dance floor. The music was blaring, people were bobbing to the beat, but no one was occupying the actual dance floor.
We didn't skip a beat, but walked straight to the middle of the empty dance floor and began dancing. At first I was extremely self conscious. Everyone at the bar was watching our lonely selves dancing. Alone. On the dance floor. The dance floor was huge. Unoccupied, it seemed to stretch out on all sides of us and only stopped where eyes peering over drinks were glancing at us, casting judgement. Because we were alone. And then I remembered how much I love dancing. My body moving to the rhythm of the music. It is soulful. Its rhythmic. I closed my eyes, threw my head back and let the music drown out any judgement being cast my way.
I had walked onto that dance floor not wanted to take up space. And suddenly I didn't care how big I became. I could become as big as I wanted, because I was out on the dance floor alone. I stretched out my arms and energy pulsed through them all the way out to my finger tips. I was aware of every part of my body. And I wasn't judging it.
My initial instinct when thinking about my body is to judge it. Last night, while dancing, I was stepping, jumping, laughing, kicking, bobbing my head, and I wasn't judging myself.I was apologetically taking up space. After about 30 minutes of bouncing around the empty dance floor more people began to join us. 
What I learned the other night was that I can enjoy my body. My body is allowed to bring me joy. I gave myself permission to be as big as I could be.
In times past it's been my habit to be disconnected from my body. To not inhabit the "it" that is a body I have not yet been able to claim as mine.
Walking onto an empty dance floor, taking up space, not apologizing for it, and dancing alone was a reclamation of my body I cannot remember ever experiencing. I felt enlightened, connected, and alive. 

On another note... I've started a project. A body image project. While at CHS we would do "creative representations" of certain aspects of our recovery. I've started doing one "creative representation" a day of my body; how I see my body, what it means to me on any given day. I know that my body image, how I perceive my body, changes day to day. It can even change minute to minute. I'm drawing how I see my body everyday for a few months to watch how it changes and journaling emotions to see how my emotions are connected to my body image. I'm working on improving how I see my body. I think this is a creative way to turn my body perceptions inside out and improve them by understanding them first.

On Boundaries

Boundaries (n, pl): 
Something that indicates a border or a limit.

Simple as that. 

Emotional boundaries let us know where we end and another person begins. They allow us to have healthy relationships. When I inform the world of my boundaries, it shows what I will and will not stand for. Boundaries let me know what I am willing to protect and they let me know what I deserve. Boundaries are a set of attitudes and behaviors that let the world know what to expect from me. They are part of my identity and create strength and self-worth, a sense of individuality. 

In recovery I've had to rediscover and redefine my boundaries for my emotional and mental health. I set boundaries regarding my family and friends. I set boundaries regarding my employment. I set boundaries regarding recovery itself. 

Recovery Boundaries

• Recovery comes first, no matter what. Recovery comes before my family, my friends, my employment, my education. I know very well I cannot have any of these: relationships, education, employment, with a raging eating disorder. So, my recovery comes first. Always. No matter what.
• No weighing. No counting. No looking at labels. No "fat" talk. No dieting. Each of these eating disordered behaviors will only lead to more eating disordered behaviors, so the boundary I set is that I will not engage in any of them.

Family Boundaries

• I have some experiences that are mine that I do not need to share with my family. I find things to do where I will not be seeking my family's approval. Running, cycling, and skiing are all things that I can do by myself, all things I establish my personality away from my family. Where I can be myself and find myself as an individual. 
• Coming out of treatment I established that I ate at 8:30, 12:30, and 6:30, no matter what, with snacks in between. This was a boundary regarding eating that I set to keep myself from skipping meals.  

Relationship Boundaries

• You will not ignore me
• You will pay attention to me
• You will support me and my goals
• You will love me like I deserve to be loved
• You will appreciate the way I live my life

Setting boundaries takes a firm sense of self. It takes practice and a lot of energy. The first few times I stood up for myself I was terrified that people would be angry with me or not like me anymore. I discovered that other's respect for me grew when I vocalized my needs and stood up for myself. 

Intuitive Eating as it applies to ED recovery

As I pull myself back on track, I think now is a good time to visit the Intuitive Eating Principles, the principles I strive to live by. Evelyn Tribole and Elyse Resch wrote their book Intuitive Eating, based on these 10 principles. It is basically eating when you are hungry and stopping when you are full. Saying it simply makes it sound easy, but to someone with an eating disorder this is often the most challenging thing I do in and out of every day. I highly recommend visiting their website, http://www.intuitiveeating.org/content/10-principles-intuitive-eating, to see how Tribole and Resch outline the 10 principles. Below I will outline what each principle means to me and my history. 

1. Reject the Diet Mentality

Our society is addicted to dieting. What would you say if you had cancer and the doctor told you the treatment he had in mind had something like a 95% failure rate? You wouldn't try that treatment, right? Dieting has something like 95% failure rate, yet people continue to bounce around from diet to diet thinking that each new diet is the cure for their body hatred. "This is the diet, this one will work." I did. I dieted most of my childhood. It did nothing but mess up my hunger signals, trick me into hating my body, and make me feel guilty if I was ever eating, if I was ever not on a diet. 

The Diet Mentality is a form of restriction. It is a form of control. To me, it is a mentality that says that I am better because I am dieting. It keeps me trapped thinking that I will find the perfect me eventually, it is a cycle that never allows me to just be, but keeps me striving for something I will never achieve because I can always be dieting. Rejecting this mentality to me means not counting, not weighing, not looking at labels, not restricting from certain food groups, and saying "no!" to that voice in my head that needs control and controls by controlling food.

2. Honor Your Hunger

I need to listen to my body and accept that I feel hunger. I do not need to control my hunger. I do not need to control my needs. Hunger does not mean that I am fat or lazy, hunger means I am human. Once I accept this, I need to honor my hunger by eating. If my hunger goes ignored, for too long, it triggers my urge to binge. Or, if I restrict for too long, it triggers my urge to keep restricting. When I do not honor my hunger it triggers my eating disorder urges. Honoring my hunger means, first acknowledging that I am hungry. Once I acknowledge I am hungry, I decide how hungry I am, then I eat an appropriate amount to honor my hunger. 

3. Make Peace with Food 

I have been at war with food most of my life. For the last few years, the times when I am strongest in my recovery is when I am not thinking of food as the enemy but as my ally. Food makes me strong, food gives me energy to live my life to the fullest. Food helps me think clearly. Food is fuel and nourishment. When I am nourished and healthy, I think clearly, I have energy, I am happy, I am excited. I give myself unconditional permission to eat. What used to lead to binges was the thought that I'd never get to eat again. I used to think that my eating disorder was never going to let me eat again, so I had to eat all I could while I was allowed, and that led to binges. But when I have unconditional permission to eat, the urge to binge dissipates. 

4. Challenge the Food Police 

The Food Police are those voices in your head that create abstract, unreasonable rules regarding food. Or say you are good or bad for eating or not eating certain foods. Some of the rules the Food Police create are just plain weird. I liken the food police to my Ed, my eating disorder. I have full on conversations with them. They tell me not to eat something or congratulate me for a successful restriction. I argue with them, using my Wise Mind, saying that I need to eat to have energy and health. That restricting is not recovery oriented and I no longer classify myself as good or bad based on food choices, but based on who I am as a person.

5. Respect Your Fullness

This to me is huge because I have to stay balanced between too full and too empty. In my first couple years of recovery I had to stay extremely mindful all the time because if I got too full, it triggered my urge to purge. If I got to hungry it triggered my urge to restrict. I have a hunger scale I refer to. A 10 is totally stuffed, a 1 is starving. I have to keep myself between a 4-7 on the scale so I don't trigger my urge to purge and I don't trigger my urge to restrict. Respecting my fullness to me, means staying mindful. Being respectful of my body means I don't need to be uncomfortably full, or empty, anymore. 

6. Discover the Satisfaction Factor 

Satiation is knowing when you've had enough. It is not when you are full, but when you are satisfied. This continues to be hard for me because I don't necessarily enjoy eating yet. I still think of it as a task. I enjoy grilling with friends, I enjoy going out on dates, but a simple meal by myself I put no effort into. I am working on this because I understand I deserve to be satisfied and I am working on the notion that satisfaction can come from food. For example, I can make myself a nice dinner even if there is no one there to enjoy it with. I can make it and enjoy it because I deserve it. I can eat to the point of satisfaction, taste it, enjoy it, and stop when I am satiated. I can do this just because I am me and I deserve it. 

7. Honor Your Feelings Without Using Food 

Crying, laughing, screaming, talking, and standing up for myself are all ways I've discovered are effective ways to cope with emotions without using food. I do not need to calm myself by controlling what I eat. Lately, writing has been a really great way for me to process my emotions and my life. When I first started treatment I had to acknowledge I was feeling emotions. Once I know I'm feeling the emotion I can process through it instead of numbing it with the eating disorder.  

8. Respect Your Body 

This is really hard. Sometimes I feel like I'm trapped in my body, and I wish I could have another one. But then I'll go do something incredible, like climb Mt Shasta or run through Desolation Wilderness or ride a great bike ride and I'm reminded how much my body does for me and I am extremely grateful for it. I have to remind myself not to manipulate my body size. Just like I can't manipulate my height or my shoe size, I cannot manipulate my weight. I am working on accepting my natural body weight. I try to focus more on what my body does for me than what I want to change about it. I am grateful for my creative arms and hands, I am grateful for my brain, I am grateful for my powerful legs, and nurturing smile. 

9. Exercise--Feel the Difference 

The key word here is feel. Listen to your body. Feel your body move through space. Feel how your energy manifests itself in the world. Stop forcing yourself to exercise to lose weight. Forget about calories. Stop thinking and start feeling. 

10 Honor Your Health

To me this means honoring my physical, my spiritual, and my mental health. Honoring my physical health means I pay attention to my self-care, I take my meds, I get my playtime in when I have energy, I eat enough to fuel my activities. Honoring my mental health means maintaining my relationships, vocalizing my opinions, emoting when I need to, and processing emotions when they arise, not stuffing them away for later. Honoring my spiritual health means spending alone time to think and meditate. It means taking quiet time away from stress to decompress and realign myself. In this quiet time I am able to reaffirm my self-worth. Honoring my health is honoring myself, taking time to take care of me and give myself what I deserve. 

Family Roles

Once you have an awareness of something you cannot become unaware of it. Your awareness follows you everywhere. You are aware, you are enlightened. Once you know something, you cannot un-know it. In the last month or two, I have the awareness of many important people in my life not taking me seriously. This shows up when people interrupt me, criticize me, don't listen to me, and lecture me. Once I became aware of it, I noticed it happened all the time. 

Among my family this is just a pattern we've established, the roles we fit into, the family dynamics that make up our family system. My sister keeps the peace and I'm the the little sister, the one that needs babying. I've always been the one that needs to be lectured, no one takes me seriously. These patterns were established over 20 years ago and still stand to this day. Even though we've all evolved past them and we've all changed. 

For example, I'm hosting a BBQ for my dad's birthday. It's actually happening this afternoon. I am perfectly capable of hosting a BBQ, yet my dad and his wife apparently do not think so. A few weeks ago, I was bombarded with text messages from my dad's wife trying to plan the get together. Frustrated with her budding in, I invited them over to sit down and plan the BBQ. We established that I would be in charge of burgers and everyone else needed to bring side dishes (potato salad, chips and dip, etc). Come to find out the other day, my dad and his wife are bringing a Tri Tip. They are completely disregarding the conversation we had, the one where I established I would be in charge of burgers. If I wasn't so frustrated with no one ever listening to me, the situation would be comical. I wonder if people don't listen to me, don't trust I can take care of things, don't take me seriously, or don't think I'm going to follow through, cause heaven forbid we put Briana in charge of the main course. This is just one example of a litany of experiences I've had in the last few weeks where I've been made to feel extraordinarily incapable. 

I'm coming to see my family dynamics from a new perspective. While I get this new perspective I am trying to see myself not as a victim, but as capable of changing my role within the family to help my family be more functional. A good way to view how my family functions now is that if my sister makes a mistake the family sees it as a "learning experience". I could make the same mistake and I'm a huge fuck up. 

 In her book, Reviving Ophelia, Mary Pipher describes authenticity as “an ‘owning’ of all experience, including emotions and thoughts that are not emotionally acceptable.” To me, authenticity means being honest with myself and acknowledging how I feel in any given situation. It means trusting that my Wise Mind knows what is healthy for me. It means I trust myself to be genuine and act in accordance to my current emotional state. It means standing up for myself and following through.

I've had a few experiences in the last few days where I got to exercise my authenticity and stand up for myself. I sent messages to people that needed to be sent. I stood up for myself in my work environment. At the BBQ tonight, I hope I can continue to stand up for myself among my family and continue to reshape my family dynamics so I no longer have to be the incapable little sister. 

Field of Meds

Well. That was a cry for help. Not sure if it was from me or from the medical profession.

I went to the doctor's office yesterday for a med evaluation. I've been depressed lately. Really depressed. And my therapist/dietitian/ed specialist suggested I go in and get my meds evaluated. I've heard of such a thing as “Prozac Poop-Out”.  It's when depression medication wears out. Perhaps I am suffering from it.

I've been diagnosed with depression and bipolar since I was 17. I was medicated for a beat. And then not. And then again, since I was 21. And, right now, I'm depressed. I know it. I know my moods. I know when I'm depressed, I know when I'm manic. I've known it since I was 17.

Right now, I'm depressed. I'm sad. I'm exhausted. I'm over-sensitive. All I want to do is sleep. I can't figure it out. I don't want to ride my bike. I don't want to run. I can't get out of bed. This is what my depression looks like. And I really struggle with my eating disorder.

My therapist suggested I go to the doctor and get my medications adjusted. 

First let me begin by saying medical professionals need a crash course on eating disorders. Hell, I'll create it and present it to them. Eating disorders are so prevalent now, yet it seems doctors every where still don't know how to handle us. I feel like it's the biggest symptom, yet it's getting blatantly ignored because they don't know how to handle it. I understand eating disorders are complicated, that's why I see a specialist, but there should be a protocol for handling those of us with eating disorders. And it should be well known, because there are plenty of eating disorders out there.

My first experience with a doctor ignoring my eating disorder came when I was 15 or 16, right around the time I was getting really addicted to purging. My mom was worried about my weight loss and lack of energy and accompanied me on a doctor visit. It was a routine physical needed to participate on the high school dance team. At one point the doctor felt my swollen throat, looked me inquisitively in the eye and said, “And you've lost weight?” That's it. That is all he said. I know the doctor knew I'd been throwing up, and didn't ask my mom to step outside, didn't ask to see me privately. Didn't say a word about it. I know it's a sensitive subject, but it should have been addressed, who knows, it might have saved me years with my head in the toilet.  

A few years later in college, I went to a counselor when I was the deepest in my struggle. I told her my symptoms; I couldn't eat, and everything I did eat I forced myself to throw up. She told me to keep a journal and drink less coffee. At that point I'd never met anyone else with an eating disorder and thought I was completely alone in my struggle, completely crazy, and walked out completely hopeless, surrendering to the vicious thoughts in my head. Keep a journal and drink less coffee. 

At the doctor's office yesterday, I addressed that I've been feeling depressed and lethargic. I'm normally a highly energetic person, with lots of light in my eyes and can remember months past when I couldn't wait to get out of bed and greet the day, and this hasn't been the case for months. 

I read a study once that people who go to the doctor with symptoms of depression leave feeling better just because they leave with hope. Just addressing their symptoms gives them hope, talking about it with a doctor makes them feel like someone cares. Often these individuals leave feeling better before even beginning their meds. This was not the case with my appointment yesterday. 

The doctor told me that she, herself, didn't feel comfortable doing anything to my meds and that I need to see a psychiatrist. Fine. Ok. Made me feel a little crazy, that a doctor couldn't handle me anymore, but fine, I'll go see a psychiatrist. But she didn't have any recommendations for who to see! Her response was, "I know, it's so hard in Tahoe." And then she suggested we check my thyroid. That that could be why I'm depressed. I almost started crying. She didn't ask me any questions or seem to care at all about my current state of depression or the fact that I'm struggling with my eating disorder. It didn't come up at all, when in fact, it's a huge piece of my moods. I was insistent on her upping my antidepressants and she did. She is insistent on me seeing a psychiatrist and I will. 

I've experienced the medical profession as someone with an eating disorder for years now and have learned a few things:

• You have to fight for what you need
• I've had to argue for potassium infusions, even with a prescription, even when I'm a liability for a heart attack
• Believe in yourself and what you need, and deserve, and do not be afraid to ask for it. Yesterday, I did not leave the doctor's until she adjusted my meds, because I know it's what I needed
• Doctors, nurses, receptionists, etc are going to tell you you look healthy
• When I mention I have an eating disorder I get the response, "Well, you look healthy." My eating disorder hears, "Well you look fat." I have to hear these comments and shrug them off, not run with them. Healthy means my hair is not falling out. Healthy means my skin is glowing, Healthy means my eyes have life in them. Healthy does not mean fat. 
• Don't step on the scale
• I calmly ask if we can skip the scale and rarely the nurses have a problem. If this is an issue, I explain my history with the eating disorder and this usually puts the issue to rest. Even the sound of the scale is triggering to me. Even someone else knowing my weight is triggering to me. They can claim they need it for insurance purposes, and I can explain the relapse risk it poses to me. I know I am willing to walk out of a doctor's office if they insist on weighing me. I will not step on a scale. 

I have to keep these things in mind when navigating the medical profession with an eating disorder. It seems there is no sensitivity and I have to stay self-aware in what I need and not let doctor visits be triggering. My next goal is to find a psychiatrist who specializes in eating disorders. Tall order, I know. A new goal of mine I'm going to try to incorporate into my life is to help educate medical professionals about eating disorders. Another life long goal is to continue to stand up for myself, knowing what I need, and help others learn to navigate their way through the doctors and medical professionals to get what they need. 

Creating an Image

I had an interesting conversation with my sister a few days ago over glasses of crisp white wine. I had asked a few months ago if she'd ever been bullied about her weight. The answer was yes, and I had yet to hear the story. Having both been bullied about our weight growing up, we came to the conclusion that these comments from other children, these observations about our bodies at a young age, are devastating and haunting into adulthood. 

Ever since childhood, after a few snide remarks regarding my body, and wanting to lose weight to be a model, I've had an image in my head about what my body looks like. I've always thought I was heavier than I am. I criticize my thighs, my stomach, my arms. When I was a kid, I thought my legs looked like baby seals, huge rolls of blubber, so I stopped wearing shorts. I created a monstrous image of myself as a child and this image has haunted me ever since. I'm stuck with it in my head. That I'm the heavier child, that I'm the kid that doesn't fit anywhere. I still feel this way.

This is an image I've spent the last few years trying to replace. It's extraordinarily challenging because these images, and thoughts, play like a broken record in my head. I spent my entire childhood creating an image of myself, and how I fit into the world, what role I play, and I no longer fit this image. I need to re-create a more accurate representation of myself in my mind. 

I start by acknowledging that I am no longer a child. I am a grown woman. This means I wear woman's clothing, not children's clothes. This means I set grown up goals for myself and accomplish them in a timely fashion. This means I can be proud of myself for being a grownup, for being a woman. I no longer have to view my legs as rolls of blubber, I can see them as capable, strong parts of my body that climb mountains, ride bikes, and carry me through my life. I am working on seeing my body as my ally, not as my enemy. Growing up, I was constantly fighting my body, not letting it grow, always seeing it as something to be manipulated, something to hate. I am working now on finding ways to appreciate my body, my strength, my abilities, and my health. 

I can let go of feeling I am a chubby little sister. I can let go of feeling the embarrassment of being the "fat girl." I can let go of feeling like I don't fit anywhere. I can let go of the fear of eating at birthday parties.

I am working on accepting my body so I don't feel trapped and haunted by comments from 20 years ago, or an image I created of myself when I was a child. I'm working on accepting the body I've tried to manipulate for 15 years. I want to be more than a body. When I see myself, I want to see a whole woman with a confident personality. I can see my strength, my sense of humor, my smile, my talents, and my abilities.