My story, I remember being a happy kid. I was with friends a lot. I remember always wanting to be with my brother, I’m sure it was normal, but I remember always being ‘annoying to him’. My mom was sick a lot, I don’t know if I fully understood it, I know I didn’t. I would sort of run away from it, ask to go to friends’ houses to avoid what was going on, but I didn’t understand. I think I just felt the tension and bad energy and wanted away with it?
I remember a few distinct memories that I feel were roots of poor body image. I remember being very young and really idolizing very thin women, the typical model body, but at age 4 or 5. I also remember very vividly, being at my dad’s office, probably around 6-8 years old, and hearing him talk about me, “she’s so strong, she doesn’t have an ounce of fat on her body” idk why that sentence stands out for me. I was always the small one, and I really liked that position in like, the small cute one.
I don’t remember my eating disorder starting. I remember my mom saying that it was because of cheerleading. I was always a flyer and then one day they had me be a base for one stunt. From her point of view, it hit me hard, I don’t remember the feelings, but I could imagine it. I love flying, and cheerleading was so important to me then. I could imagine me wanting to lose weight to get back up there.
I don’t remember how it started, but I do remember Erin teaching me how to throw up. I don’t remember so much though. It saddens me that it was more than a decade of my life I numbed my mind to an eating disorder. There is so much I don’t remember. I do remember waking up every day for a long period of time, promising myself I wouldn’t do it, and failing every time. I failed for over a decade of not doing it. I don’t remember if I realized how bad it was? I hate how it made me such a liar. I remember being caught by my parents, caught by my brother. I remember waiting for my family to go to sleep so I could eat after a day of not eating anything and then throw up. I remember fighting with my dad a lot. I remember my brother taking me to the doctors to for weigh ins and tying weights to my body to pass the ‘test’ and let me stay on the cheerleading team. I remember drinking crazy amounts of water when I had to be weighed in without clothes and the doctor making a comment on how hard my belly was because it had so much liquid in it. I remember being in the hospital forced to eat the olives. I remember the showers at the hospital, I think they were supervised to make sure we didn’t throw up in the shower. I remember not thinking I belonged in the hospital because I didn’t believe I was skinny enough, but I am being 86 lbs. I remember Longbridge coming to visit and sneaking me in chewing gum. I don’t remember if the hospital even helped? I don’t remember anyone talking to me about it after I came back, I think I faked visiting my brother at college? I know Steve has never talked to me about it, I never ever talked about it to anyone. I know I went to many doctors, but I don’t remember any of their faces, any of their names or not one conversation I had. There is so much I don’t remember.
I remember my dad telling me I can’t go to college unless I get healthy, I think I may have faked it enough to go. But I was no better when I was there. I remember not making the UConn cheerleading team because I looked too sick. My eating disorder came to college. I gained some weight but kept the bad habits. Drinking didn’t help at all, then I got roommate with the same disorder which was really weird. I felt like I was a better hider than her. But when I look back idk if I ever had anyone fooled? I have no idea. I remember being really frustrated with her, like watching my flaws in someone else was really hard for me.
Kevin was an angel, disguised as an ex-addict crazy ex-boyfriend. But I believe he was sent to me to recover. My relationship with him was my first step to overcoming my eating disorder. He showed me yoga and he showed me that living with an eating disorder was unacceptable, I started to recover for him. Thank god. But it was for him.
Layla was the next huge leap. The second I was pregnant; my body was for her. I think I threw up once when I was pregnant, partially because of nausea, but to be honest there was definitely a part of my ed in it. But I definitely took a huge leap in my recovery for her.
Now I was to recover even more, but this time for myself. I so dearly want to be the best me for me and for everyone around me and for the world, I want to live authentically and to reach people and inspire them. I want to make a difference. I feel like I always wanted to make everything good, so I feel good, but I want to make myself feel good, so I can make everyone I reach feel good too. I want to be the best mom, the best wife, daughter, sister, aunt, I want to be a better friend, instructor, worker. I just want to be better, more confident, and happier. I feel like I study so much on how to do this and I am hoping this sharing helps.
I recently heard that I have to share my story. I have never ever shared this much of my story. My past is full of lots of shame, embarrassment, and guilt, but I don’t think anyone is mad at me for it, only me. How can I stop being mad at me for it? A part of me appreciates it because I don’t think I would be where I am if I didn’t have this past, I know I wouldn’t. But part of me feels like I wasted a lot of my life in a numb blur of eating and throwing up and that make me nauseas just typing.