It happens slowly, and then all at once. You find yourself feeling…lost, unsure of how you got here. Here being this dark corner of your mind where you now reside, crunching numbers all day long.
“How much have I taken in? How much have I burned? How much more can I afford to take in at this point?”
All you think about is food – what you will eat, and then how quickly you can use those calories so as not to put on a single pound. Nevermind that you’re 20 lbs underweight by any medical standard. ED – Eating Disorder – dictates so many of your moments, making it very difficult for you to discern where he ends and you begin. You are lost.
I battled an eating disorder for the better part of 10 years. This was fueled, initially, by my desire to be fast – to be a top collegiate runner. And, I did have potential. I was fast. I loved running. But slowly, being fast became equated with a diminishing number on the scale. If I could just lose 1 more pound, then maybe, just maybe that would be the difference between being a winner and just being among the winners.
It worked at first; as I grew thinner and thinner, my times began to drop. Alas, my body couldn’t maintain such performance on such inadequate fuel. Slowly, in fits and starts, my body began to break down. No longer was I the fast runner, that others (and I) knew myself to be. I was simply a runner. On top of that, I was addicted to being thin and had an irrational fear of gaining weight, despite that being exactly what my undernourished body was begging for.
Through a lot of therapy, and some time away from running, I began to allow for my body to shift; to put on the weight that leaves me now feeling toned and womanly. My attitude towards my body, and food, has improved greatly. Though, I still find myself feeling shame and guilt after a night of indulgence or a skipped workout.
I don’t WANT this guilt or this shame. I yearn to break free from those chains. That isn’t the kind of woman that I aim to be. I want to be an example of love towards the ever changing body, a woman of grace. I want to be an example of love and acceptance for my future daughters, nieces, and all the young women whose lives I brush up against.
I dream, in vivid color and detail, of the day when I fall in love with my body in the same way that a man falls in love with a woman’s. I want to see my curves and flesh as signs of femininity, fertility and sensuality. I want to be in awe of my strong, lean legs that have carried me through countless runs, rides, skis and hikes. To celebrate the arms that have pulled me up rocks and mountains. My stomach endured an invasive surgery, and a severing of the colon at the astounding age of 24. So why do I ever admonish it’s appearance?! This body bag of mine fought, and survived, Stage III Colon Cancer. Yet, I forget this often – taking for granted the beautiful gift that it inherently is.
My body, our bodies, are in deservance of gratitude; not a militant regime of core sculpting or hours on the stationary bike. I want to love this body, to be in admirance of it and all that it has persevered through. My body is a fighter. I know that your body is too.
Of course, this doesn’t mean that I don’t want to continue to challenge my body to achieve new levels of athletic prowess. I want to consistently encourage myself to be stronger, to be healthier. But I want this to come from a place of love, even reverence for my body – not because I am trying to mold it into a certain “figure”.
Even for those without a history of caloric deprivation, I know that such love is difficult to achieve. I know, through conversations with other women (and men) that I am not alone in my desire to change my body, or to feel like I am a failure when I let a few days go by without exercise. I also know that we deserve more though.
For me, I am quite certain that this movement towards greater love and appreciation for my body will be lifelong – something I need to remind myself to come back to again and again. Through writing, yoga, and meditation I lay the foundation, setting down one brick at a time. I hope that you too are able to pursue the activities that invite more room for love – love for yourself exactly as you are right now. Clichés exist for a reason. It is cliché, but true, that life is short and nothing is promised. Try not to waste too much of yours wrapped up in ideas of your own inadequacy. Instead I ask that you seek – over and over – love.
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