Letter to my former self

I'm a big fan of writing letters to myself. Last year I wrote a letter to my body, which was a major healing marker for me. I also wrote a letter to my skinny jeans, which I finally got rid of. And about a month ago I wrote a letter to my former self.

It's a letter to the girl I was about 10 years ago. I've come so far from that girl- in ways I was feeling ashamed of her. Of me. And it was biting me in the ass. I was separating myself now from her which was robbing me of valuable love and learning. I soon realized I wasn't "walking the talk" of giving the advice to never apologize for who you are inside. Back then, I was exactly where I needed to be. 

******************

Dear Me, 

I owe you an apology. A big one. 

Lately I’ve been doing a lot of growth. And it’s good, but I’ve made a mistake along the way. See, I’ve been looking around inside my heart, learning from the past and have come a long way. 

But, you already know that. 

You’ve been here all along, cheering me on. The mistake I’ve made is by being ashamed of you. Looking back, I think about who you were, the mistakes you made, the ways you used to cope....and I push you away. I pretend you don’t exist. 

And recently you told me you were pissed about that. And sad too. So, I’m sorry. I really am. That was pretty shitty of me. So, I ask for your forgiveness. I understand that you were doing the best you could, with what you had, at that time. And it wasn’t a lot, I know. You coped the best way you knew how. After all, back then you wanted the same thing you do now: 

Love. 

So, I plan to look at you differently from now on. With an open heart. Without harsh judgement. I might be wiser now, but no better. 

Love,
Me

Photo credit

Hello, recovery. Nice to meet you.

I want to preface this blog post with a quick update. Obviously my posts are few and far between lately. One main reason is that I'm having a website built and this blog will move over to it. My creative energy has gone to that, plus two very small children that are now both mobile. So, between potty training, hovering, chasing, beach/park going, training for a triathlon, life coaching certification, getting up at 5:30 am with my son....I'm just spent. Lots of ideas to write that swarm through my head, but never get to this blog. So, there you have it.

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Triathlon training. Wow. It's something I never thought I would do. It's something I never thought I could do. As I write this, I'm in week 5 of training, with about 8 more to go. I'm not a strong swimmer, so that is a challenge. I also have a fear of open water swimming, plus training in a pool is challenging because of a really raging drain phobia (shut up) so mentally, that's been....interesting. But the biggest challenge of all is this:

In the last 2 weeks I've noticed my body is changing. And a few other people have noticed too. So what? Well, this is the first time I've started a new (and temporary) exercise program for fun (did I really just say that?) rather than to be a certain body type. And also the first time I've done it and been this far into recovery from disordered eating and exercise.

Now, I know what's happened from a physiological standpoint (science nerd alert). I've switched up my workouts from just running to running, swimming and cycling. Plus, bumped up my usual 3 times per week to 5 times per week. I've also been hungrier and eat more.

That's it.

But, the victory is accepting the body changes for what they are. Just changes. Formerly I would have seen the changes and become obsessed by them. Worked out more, ate less. But now, I let it go. At first I braced myself for the reaction I would have. Like someone closing their eyes waiting for an oncoming collision. And waited, and waited. But, they didn't come. I opened one eye, then the other and took a breath. And I let in the new feelings.

So this is what it's like to be recovered. 

This victory is a big giant step. I guess I lived for so many years on the other side, part of me thought that if I did get to a place where I lost some weight, or toned up, I would come crashing back down. Being fully recovered is still somewhat new territory, and my gremlin gets a wee bit terrorized there.

I know it's all a work in progress. All of it, my whole life. Will I fall down, get triggered, make a step back here and there? Probably. And that's okay.

Old Memories

So, I'm training for a triathlon. A sprint distance, nothing crazy. Since I've been recovered from disordered eating and exercise, I've kept my love of running, but one thing has changed; I only run outside. I don't think this was a completely conscious choice, but since I've had kids, I have to bring them running, and I can't exactly push them on the treadmill in their stroller, and I've discovered I really love to run outside.

On Sunday I went to the gym for the first time in a long time. I did an easy swim, quickly changed and got on the treadmill. Plugged my ipod in, pushed all the buttons and started running.

And all the memories came back. Like a Mack truck.

The smell of the gym, the people there, the sound of the treadmill. The digital time ticking, telling me how much time has elapsed, how many miles I have run, and of coarse, how many calories I have burned. I would race the clock to see if I could make a certain distance before the time got there. Or, I would run until I burned x amount of imaginary calories. I wonder if that ever made my happy.

On Sunday I ran for only 20 minutes, but in that time I thought about how I used to be when I was on the treadmill. Thinking obsessing about calories, wondering how much more distance I could take, hoping my legs wouldn't buckle out from under me. Trying to ignore the hungry feeling in my stomach. And on and on. And thinking.....that was normal.

After the 20 minutes was up, I stopped. The old me would have pushed on for another 20 or 30 minutes, just to...I don't know. Prove something.

In times like that, when I see my old ghost, I take note of how far I've come. I'm sad for a moment. Thinking of how happy I thought I was. Then happy, taking note of how "grown up" I feel now. Exercising to be fit. Huh. Now, that makes me happy. I'm sure of it.

A HUGE beginning

ABC Family's HUGE premiered last night. I blogged about it last week, and was uncertain about what was in store for this show. Weight loss camp + entire cast of overweight teens = Skepticism in my book. I couldn't help but think of that disaster of a movie, "Shallow Hal" where the moral of the story was that beauty was on the inside. Blech. Worst way to send that message EVAR! Anyway, moving on....

My first thought was that in no way would I be able to relate this. I've always been open about my own struggles with body image, but I've never been overweight. In the first scene I noticed they show the teens in roles like every other social circle and the teens make comparisons from the beginning. The defiant rebel, Wil, is the main character. She is obviously there against her wishes and makes it known. Haley is the pretty girl, thinner than the other campers, but still overweight. In the first initial meeting, another camper tells her, "Oh my god, I hate you. Just kidding. You're so skinny!"Why is it that it seems okay to tell someone they are hated, as long as it's followed by a joke and/or it's because the person is commenting that they are skinny?

Here's what threw me for a loop. I had something in common with Wil. She is a loudmouthed, eye-rolling, attitude ridden, sarcastic, too-cool-for-school type. When I used to hate myself and my body, I was the same girl. Tough exterior and sometimes mean at the expense of others (yes, me) because I was so unhappy with myself and my life. It's not a fun place to be for anyone. In fact, it's downright shitty.

In an emotional scene the girls are informed one of the campers has been asked to leave and seek psychiatric care because she was caught vomiting. As sad as this is, I was happy to see a female showcased with (what's assumed as ) an eating disorder that isn't emaciated. Binge eating disorder is the most common eating disorder and is prevalent in about 30% of those seeking weight loss treatment (Wikipedia). Good work, ABC.

I want to point out that the acting was amazing. In the world of reality shows galore, it was really a treat to watch great actors. What struck me the most was the pained expressions and feelings on these teen's faces. And it got me thinking; these teens live this in real life. In some way or another, they have been affected by society's idealistic standards and the fact that they don't fit it. I can't imagine how painful that must be. To have your life revolve around what size you are on the outside, being judged about the kind of person you are when really, the size of your heart is really what matters.

Huge is coming...

I admit that I don't watch too much TV that often anymore. I think I might be the last person in the world who doesn't have TiVo or DVR, and watching commercials makes me a bit crazy. However, upon hearing about ABC's new drama, HUGE, I was intriuged.

It's hard to form an opinion on a show merely by the one minute trailer, however, if you know me, you know I have an opinion.

From what I understant the show revolves around teenagers at a weight loss camp. The teenagers vary from overweight to obese. They deal with normal teenage problems, feelings and drama. At a weight loss camp. Oy vey.

My first problem is the question of what's with the poster with the actress, Nikki Blonsky, looking so....sad? Uncomfortable? Jaded? Scared? From what I understand, the show is promoting living a HUGE life, which if you read my blog, you know I send the same message. But, from the poster alone, I feel that they're saying, "Hey everybody! Come check out this show! We're going to pretend we're sending a great message, but selling it to you by thinking you're coming to see a train wreck".

So, I'm torn here. My battle is the question of why does this show need to be at a weight loss camp? Or day I say it (becauses I know you're thinking it) what most people still call a "fat camp"? Why couldn't it just be overweight kids at a high school, or private prep school? Aren't all the other shows about teenagers like that?  

The only reason I can think of, is that no one would watch it if it were just overweight kids in high school dealing with high school stuff. American's are obsessed with intensity. Reality shows must contain people fighting and/or hating each other (with a side of nudity, please), we love addiction shows (I readily admit I'm intruiged by the show "Hoarders"), we can't get enough of Oprah and Kirstie Alley losing and gaining weight all over the place. So, I'm not surprised at all to see a show come along like this. Honestly, part of me wants to bang my head against my computer keyboard in frustration. Sure, it's a step in the right direction to have a show on a major network in prime time showing overweight kids, but at what cost??

I can only keep my fingers crossed that it does what I hope: Shows that teenagers of all shapes and sizes have real feelings. That they are more that just overweight. Regardless of how they got there, they all have their "stuff" they are dealing with.

I'd love to hear what you think about it. What do you think it will be like? How do you think it will be viewed? What do you think about the cast? Here's the link again to the show. I'll be blogging again on Monday right after the show airs. Stay tuned...

The Prize

"All my life I've been searching for something
Something never comes never leads to nothing
Nothing satisfies but I'm getting close
Closer to the prize at the end of the rope" -Foo Fighters

I've been thinking about that a lot lately. The prize at the end of the rope that so many people are after. What is it? Happiness? Love? Beauty? A partner? Losing weight? Organization? Size 2 jeans? A better job? Perfection? A six-figure salary? Everyone's got one. Or two. Or more.

A few weeks back I wrote about the theory of "Go Big or Go Home". In my teens and 20's I thought I had to have it all. If I didn't have it all, or at least be going for it all, and especially look like I had it all, well, that was just unacceptable. I really felt like there was something out there that would bring me all the happiness I ever needed. I planned and planned. Controlled and controlled some more. I was outwardly happy, but inside I was pretty miserable. I lived in the world of "If only..."

What if your "prize" is yourself? Your trueness. I know that sounds really serious, doesn't it? But what if we were all put on this earth so unique from one another for a precise reason? I spent a lot of years trying to fit into a box. What I thought I should be, because I didn't think who I truly was was good enough. Actually, to be honest, I didn't even know who I was. It took me getting dropped on my ass and my heart ripped out  for me to figure out what I was doing wasn't working.

So, maybe if just for a minute, we all looked around and decided that our prize was right now.

This moment.

Ourselves.

Save New Moon Girls!

7th grade. What does that evoke in you? For me, 7th grade was puberty, braces, new hips, boy crazy, new to leg shaving and wearing make-up. My mom let me subscribe to Teen magazine and I remember a particular issue where the model on the cover had a super-cool haircut. I wanted that same super-cool haircut, so off we went to Supercuts with the magazine in hand. I proudly showed the stylist and 30 minutes later I walked out of there with a mullet. I kid you not. It wasn't the stylists fault, it really was a cute mullet on the model, but I was devastated. I clearly remember crying on the way home, holding the magazine in my hand. I would love to post a picture of this, but I would not let my mom take my picture until it grew out. I thought I looked hideous. Looking back, I wanted to look like that teen model. I thought all my dreams would come true if I looked like her. It wasn't the haircut, it was everything that went along with it. The clothes, the sparkly white teeth, the perfect skin, all of it. Teen magazine was just the beginning. I later got Seventeen magazine, then Cosmopolitan, then Shape. Model after model, advertisement after advertisement, telling me what I should be: Beautiful, thin, perfect.

What is this doing to us? What is this doing to little girls?


I'm not going to get into the effects of mainstream media right now, but I want to introduce you to Nancy Gruver and her amazing magazine of nearly 2 decades, New Moon Girls. In this day and age where girls are evermore exposed to heavily sexualized imagery and messaging, New Moon Girls gives them empowerment, no advertising, a safe interactive online community, girl created content and not to mention numerous awards, year after year. Nancy wanted to have a magazine available to girls that was for, by and about girls 8 and up. On New Moon Girls Facebok page she shares messages from subscribers like this one:

"I really love your magazine. I know i sound like a ad, but it really, truly makes me feel, happy, beautiful, and unique. I wish that every girl would have a subscription to new moon girls. It would make girls feel so good. Keep making more girls feel beautiful!" - Chloe, 12, Illinois

Hoorah, right? But, here's the bad news. (Boooo, I know). New Moon Girls is in trouble and needs our help. Because of the current economic climate, New Moon Girls may have to close their doors forever. So, here's how we can all help: I have become an affiliate partner for New Moon which means I will be selling New Moon subscriptions from my blog. A year long subscription is $44.95. That's a great deal for an entire year of empowering that little girl in your life! If you choose to purchase a copy through me - you will receive a $10 discount off the total price. Making a year of empowering magazine action for just $34.95. (I will be making no commission off this).


If you don't have a girl in your life to buy a subscription for, you can still help by buying and donating a subscription to your local library or school. How's that for paying it forward? Or, if you can't buy a subscription, please consider tweeting about New Moon Girls, this post, or sharing about New Moon Girls on Facebook and become a fan yourself.

Another cool thing if you do get a subscription: Have your daughter or the girl in your life contribute to New Moon. She can send in her poetry, essays or her questions. This magazine is by, for and about girls!

Young girls don't have to be bombarded with images and messages that make them feel less than what they are. We may not ever know what they see or hear that is damaging. But, with publications like New Moon Girls, I can guarantee you'll be sure they'll get empowering messages encouraging them to be themselves, dream big, have their voices heard and to discover and honor their true selves.

So, please, buy a subscription (or two, or more!) and help New Moon Girls. For the $34.95 offer, please click here.

Eight Windows

Inspired again by my dear friend Karen Pery, she has invited her readers to think about their lives. If given the opportunity to have glimpses of your life flash before your eyes, what would you see? She describes 8 windows, from the outside looking into your soul. I tried hard to think about things that were all nice and fluffy. But, honestly, not all my pivotal moments were great. Some yes, but not all. The moments that changed my life, the moments that would flash before my eyes if I was perhaps faced with death? Here is what I would see:

1. Riding my big wheel on the tennis courts when I was 5 years old. The plastic streamers, my royal blue tennies, red and white tube top and dove shorts. No cares in the world. 
2. 20 years old, walking into the recovery room where my dad had just had quadruple bypass surgery. Seeing his scars, seeing him hooked up to machines was too much. I walked out. 
3. Standing in Barnes and Noble. I called my then-husband and the other woman answered. I finally knew for sure. It was over. Walking out and into the parking lot I had my first out-of-body experience. 
4. The moment Jason opened the door the first time we met. We had been talking for weeks on the phone, and I promised myself I would have no expectations when I met him in person. The look of such curiosity on his face was evident. My first thought that I remember so clearly was, "Oh shit. He's cute. I'm in trouble." 
5. My son's birth. Terrified, laying on the surgery table, smelling my burning skin as I was cut open to have him removed from my body. Thinking, "Shouldn't I be happy right now?" And feeling like the worst new mother ever for being furious about the way he was coming into the world. 
6. On my son's first birthday, he woke up from a nap. I got him out of bed and sat down to rock him. He fell back asleep in my arms and I memorized his smell: Baby sweat and sunscreen. It was delicious. 
7. About 30 seconds after my daughter was born, I broke down in tears. Fighting with my obstetrician about how I was going to give birth to her was more than I could handle. I was so happy that she was here, that she was in my arms, that she was healthy and that she was born the way I thought she deserved to be born. 
8. Sitting at my dining room table with my beloved MacBook, writing any post of this blog. Crying, typing the words of the story of my past. Realizing how sad I was at times. And how I used to cope. The girl I was. The woman I've become. And the vulnerability of letting everyone see it. 

I feel like I should say something inspiring right now but I don't have it in me. 

What would you see through your windows? 

The Curse of "Go Big or Go Home"

I saw this bumper sticker the other day and it conjured up many bad memories. I used to live my life by this mantra. No, I mean LIVE MY LIFE. If it wasn't going to be done 150,000,000 percent, then don't do it at all. Isn't that what it means to "Go Big or Go Home"? If you read my blog you know I sometimes write about a nasty thing called Perfectionism. I've struggled with this for years. It's ugly, I hate it, but I've actually come a long way. Perfectionism is black and white. In someone's life who deals with this, everything is or isn't. There's no "in-between". No gray area.

I started playing tennis when I was 3 years old. I practically grew up on the tennis courts. My parents were avid players. I took lessons for years and years and if my parents weren't paying for lessons, my dad was my coach. My freshman year in high school I got up enough courage to try out for the tennis team. The first day of try-outs I sized up the other girls there. Some of them were better than me, but not all. It didn't even occur to me that these girls would be my teammates, not my competition. The anxiety that overtook me was much too overwhelming. I felt sick thinking that I might lose. In front of others. In front of my parents.  So, guess what I did? I went home. The following year I tried out for something much less stressful in my book: Cheerleading. I don't regret being on the cheerleading team, however, I very much regret letting my own perfectionism, my own fear of failure limit me in something that was so important to me. I loved tennis. I was a really good player. But, if I couldn't be the absolute best, if I couldn't "go big", (and in my mind that meant never losing) I would rather go home.

This thought process continued and bled over into other parts of my life. I compared myself constantly to everyone else. I wasn't as thin as this person, my boobs weren't as big as that persons, my grades weren't as good as hers. Compliments fell on deaf ears.

When someone concentrates so hard on looking good, at being the absolute best at any cost, are they really living their life authentically? Are they even living their own life? I didn't even know what "living authentically" meant until I became somewhat comfortable living in the grey.  Years of "go big or go home" had worn on me, and I had no idea who I was, what I wanted, and who I wanted to become. Was it easy to let it all go? Shit, NO! It's still not sometimes. I still have moments of "Oh no, I'm going to look like a complete asshole if I do this or say that". It's slowly becoming easier to be okay with the fact that some people might think I'm an asshole. And on a good day I might even take that as a compliment.

After reading Courtney Martin's "Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters", it was reiterated to me that so many women, especially in my generation suffer from perfectionistic behaviors. The line gets blurry from the ambitious, go-getter, fierce female, to the woman practically killing herself to be perfect in every way. For me, I let my mean and vicious saboteur voice run my life for a lot of years. And she's a real bitch to me, let me tell ya! But, I truly believe that living a life this way, can be crippling.

So, think about times when you might have had this type of thinking. Perhaps you made assumptions ahead of time about something or someone. Or maybe you avoided something because in your mind if you couldn't do it perfectly, it wasn't worth doing. Just notice it.

Triggered.

trig·ger

–verb

• to initiate or precipitate (a chain of events, scientific reaction, psychological process, etc.)
• to fire or explode (a gun, missile, etc.) by pulling a trigger or releasing a triggering device
• to become active; activate

First thing Monday morning I had a session with my coach. I didn’t have a specific topic nailed down, but had about 3 things that were swimming in my head, so I just started talking. Talk, talk, talk about how I want to do this, and I need to decide on this, and I feel lost about that. A few minutes later my coach says, “Wow. Sounds like you’ve been triggered.” 

And Holy Moses, was she right. 

I thought about the last 2 weeks and some things that had happened. Not necessarily monumental events, just little things that planted themselves in my brain, and then the fire started. For me, in this particular instance I’m writing about, is body image. And let me tell ya, when it's body image, it's not just a piddly fire. It's a god damn inferno. 

Week before last I was running in my neighborhoods while pushing both my kids in the stroller. I was feeling amazing, finally feeling better from an injury and so happy to be back doing what I love: running. A car pulled up beside me, slowed down and a women about early to mid-60’s rolled down her window. She smiled and asked me, “How come it’s always the skinny girls that are running?” 

...

I was speechless (which is rare for me). My first reaction was to stop and launch into an enormous explanation, an angry explosion. Who does she think she is, thinking that I run to be skinny? How dare she assume that being skinny equates happiness and health? And who cares what type of body I have, why does that matter? Is that supposed to be some kind of compliment? And on and on and on. My head spun out of control with assumptions of what she really meant and I can’t imagine what the look on my face was like. However, I said nothing. 

On Saturday I went to a workshop that was held at a beautiful private gym. I went to use the restroom and there it was: The scale. You might be thinking, “Yeah, so what?” But for me, and I think for a lot of people that are in recovery from disordered eating and exercise, seeing that scale was...terrifying, haunting, exciting, curious, frustrating, confusing and triggering. So many thoughts. The angel and devil quickly had an argument: Don’t get on it. It’s not that big of a deal, just step on it. Don’t do it, you haven’t weighed yourself in 9 months! Well, you’ve been exercising again, let’s just see what happened. If you step on it, you might go back there, to that place. Are you that fragile that you can’t handle what it says? Yes, you can, just do it. Prove that it’s not a big deal anymore. 

As I washed my hands I stared at it on the floor in the mirror. And I walked away. 

These two things happened and that’s just it: They happened. In my mind I’ve come to the conclusion that being triggered = BAD. And what happens afterward, or how I handle it (or don’t handle it) determines and defines who I am and where I am in terms of recovery. 

Today, I learned and accepted that I don’t have to go down with the triggers in my life, whether they be about body image, perfectionism, relationships or anything. Sometimes they suck, and sometimes they hurt, but I can choose to look at them as a gift. Sometimes they’re wrapped up in a pretty bow, sometimes they feel like a block of cement, sometimes it's a box of dog shit, but no matter what, they are my gift to myself, and I just need to ask, “What did I learn?” That’s it. They don’t need to mean anything profound all the time. They don’t define me. They don’t grip me. 

So, what did I learn? I learned that backhanded compliments about my body are hard to swallow. Thinking about it further, any comment about my body is hard to swallow. But, I don't need to make assumptions about what that person meant. And I learned that sometimes the scale looks scary. And there's a part of me that's curious about how much I weigh. That's it. I can get so caught up and lost if the "what does it all mean?" and will run on that hampster wheel all damn day. And if I need to cry, I'll cry. And if I don't, I won't. But being triggered doesn't equal anything. 

So, think about what triggers you. Perhaps there are times when you feel so overwhelmed by something, or really wanting to launch into a new project, or control something, anything in your life. Think about the past few weeks or even months and if anything happened, however small that may have triggered you. And just be with it. 

Photo courtesy of Soul Rider

The Gremlin, The Mannequin and Joan Jett

Warning: Strong language included in this post.

I may have mentioned in my previous posts about what we call in the coaching world as our “saboteur”. AKA "the gremlin". It’s that little (or sometimes not so little) voice in our head that we all have, some more than others. It tells us mean things, negative talk, tells us we can’t do something, that we look stupid, that we’re fat, ugly, etc. Everyone’s is unique. Some people believe theirs more that others. Some people have learned how to squash theirs. But, it’s been my experience, that it never quite goes away and that it evolves, just like we do. It gets smarter, and sneakier too as time goes on.

I’ve started this post a few times, and have never finished or posted about my saboteur. It was a homework assignment from my coach about a year ago; one that I never completed (See, even coaches are bad clients sometimes). I think back then I was afraid to rip the band aid off and show everyone my saboteur. Well, enough hiding, here she is:

My sabotuer is a vicious bitch to me. In my mind she looks like a manequin would, perfect hair, skin, and make up, perfectly thin with no flaws. On display. She is also empty inside. She tells me my world will fall apart at any moment, and to brace myself for it. She wears a smug expression. She tells me I need to be thinner, stronger, younger, in better shape, a better mother, a better wife, a better friend, a better everything. And never, ever, let them see you cry. She used to tell me I'm not good at anything, so why try?





I.
Fucking.
Hate.
Her.

The absolute complete opposite of her, and what in my mind kicks her ass is my alter ego: Joan Jett. She doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks of her, doesn’t give a damn about her bad reputation, is exactly who she is and certainly makes no apologies for it. She is a serious ass-kickin' rocker.

In many ways I'm a lot like her, but my gremlin says, "That's not pretty, not lady-like, it's too loud and-your-reputation-IS-so-important-if-it-were-flawed-WE-WOULD-DIE!!!"

Metaphorically speaking, the mean-bitch mannequin lady and Joan Jett have roller derby races. They race, they bump into each other, tell each other to fuck off, sometimes they crash and get it into a knock down cat fight. They go around and around the track, going nowhere.

Do you think I'm totally crazy yet? Okay, good.

But, sometimes they slow down and skate together quietly. Because I am not either of them. I am not perfect at parenting, working out, or anything for that matter. And I don't need to be hard-as-nails tough like Joan Jett either. I can be in the middle. In the grey. My gremlin, the mannequin lady is addicted to suffering. No matter how pretty she presents herself to me, no matter how convincing she is, I still need to remember SHE IS NOT ALLOWED TO LIVE MY LIFE. So, I take my skates back.

And skate away from her to take control of my own life.

So, who is your gremlin, your saboteur? What does he/she say to you? How do you decipher between that voice and your true voice, your true being? 

J Lo tells us the reason we should all get our pre-baby body back...

Recently, Jennifer Lopez was interviewed for  US magazine. Not the most intriguing of magazines, I know, but they do have (what I am assuming is) hundreds of thousands of subscribers, and many, many more pick it up while waiting in line at the grocery store. The cover screams, "MY BEST BODY EVER" and provides us with an eyeful of the celebrity looking happy and sultry. A look all of us mothers are apparently dying to achieve. (Insert eye roll). The article quotes Lopez as saying,"You get to the point where you're like, Where am I? What happened to me? I got to get myself together for my kids, you know? They need to know what I really look like."

Don't get me wrong; I love me some J Lo. Many times I've been running, listening to her music, shaking my butt, trying to tap into my inner Latina. But, Jesus H. Christ. "They need to know what I really look like" ?? What she really looks like? I can guarantee, that what she really looks like is not some perfectly lit, posed, professionally make-up'd, airbrushed and photoshopped celebrity. And what kind of message does this send to her children and to other mothers? Call me completely bananas-gone-crazy, but this is the message it sends to me as a mother: 

Mamas: If you've got a little or a lot of belly fat, perhaps some pesky cellulite on your thighs,

 some sag on your butt cheeks after having those babies, don't you think it's about time you show 

your kids what you looked like BEFORE you had them? So what if it's been several years and you're

 not 20 anymore. Do it for your KIDS! Get yourself together for your them. 

Clearly, I jest, and who really takes J Lo seriously anymore. But, this is nothing new. We see it and hear it daily. The "How I got my body back after baby" article is a pretty constant bombardment to us mothers. So how do we ignore it? How in the world do we squash just deal with the body image pressures after having babies? 

There are many things a woman can do about it, and it really depends on the severity of her issues. I will say a couple of things. First of all, remember this: When you decide to have a baby, your life will change permanently. Forever. For the rest of your natural life. So, count on the fact that it's pretty likely that your body will change too. For-ev-er. Am I happy about the fact that my body is different now after having 2 babies? No. By no means do I give myself a wink and a thumbs up in the mirror when my eyes fall on a part of my body that is different than it used to be. But, I'm learning to live with it. Sometimes I just sigh and have to say, "It is, what it is", then go chase my toddler or nurse my daughter (which by the way I'll take my not-so-perky-anymore breasts as a trade off for breastfeeding both of my children). Just try to keep it in perspective. We chose to have the attitudes we have about certain things. Body image is no different. We can choose to be in a place of "Oh-my-god-I-need-to-get-my-body-back-or-else-(insert worst possible fate)" or we can choose to just accept it for what it is.

Your kids don't care if you have some belly fat. They don't care if you have some cellulite. But, they do care (and listen) about how you think and talk about your body. I vowed to do my best to heal my body image issues and to not pass them on to my children, especially my daughter. I do the best I can. Sometimes I feel like that clown at the circus who spins plates on both hands, one foot, his head and his nose. Some fall off, sometimes he looks silly, but, hey, at least he's trying, right? We have a lot to deal with as mothers. Let's not beat ourselves up by comparing our bodies now to what they looked like before we had babies.

Thanks anyway, J Lo. Please don't comment anymore about that. Just keep making great movies making music that we can shake our butts to. 

A little rant about eating disorder myths

Recently, while on a Facebook page regarding eating disorders I noticed a few comments some people had made about eating disorders and thin people. One said, "It was great when Dove soap starting using real women in their ads" and another said, "It's just time to wake up and see that a size 0 is just sick! We need more people to join our fight!" (They were both men, by the way)

Okay. First off, let me start by saying it's comments like that that make me think just for one tiny second that I can't fight this fight anymore. It's too big and too deep and too tall for just little ol' me to lend a hand. However, then I squash that pesky voice and take two steps at a time up on my soapbox:

"It was great when Dove soap starting using real women in their ads"

ALL women are REAL women. Did you hear me? ALL of us. It doesn't matter if you are a size zero, eyeball deep in an eating disorder or naturally a size zero and healthy. Or if you are a size 24, or if you wear a triple XL, or anywhere in between. When we start to use terms like "real" we judge everyone else and we are no better off than companies like Victoria's Secret who only use ultra thin models in their ads. (I think that the commenter got confused when referring to Dove ads. Dove started the Real Beauty Campaign, not Real Women).

"It's just time to wake up and see that a size 0 is just sick! We need more people to join our fight!"

A size zero is NOT sick. Someone that suffers from an eating disorder is sick. And by sick, I mean ill. An eating disorder is no different than any other mental illness that needs to be treated by a medical professional. I know several women that are a size zero or close to it, that are perfectly healthy, do not starve themselves to be thin, nor do they participate in any other behavior that warrants an eating disorder status. They are judged for being thin, people assume they are starving, and are even disliked merely because of their size. No matter that they are smart, giving, kind, generous human beings. In America, they're "skinny bitches" naturally, so they deserve to be crapped on?!?!? To the commenter that said this: I will never join your "fight". You're ridiculous. Get informed before you make such ludicrous statements.

Eating disorders come in all shapes and sizes. It is a huge misconception that only the skeletal and emaciated have eating disorders. That they're the only ones that need help or that die. Yes, I said it: Die. Eating disorders kill. And rarely do you see on a death certificate; cause of death: Eating Disorder. It's complications from it, including cardiac arrest, electrolyte imbalance, malnutrition (that can cause kidney failure and respiratory infections), hyponatremia and dehydration, just to name a few. (For a full list, click here). What someone looks like does not tell you they need help. They don't walk around with a tattoo on their forehead that says, "Hey everybody! I have ED!" They look like you and me.



If you read my post a few weeks back on EDNOS, you know that one-third to one-half of all diagnosed eating disorders fall under the diagnosis of EDNOS. It's so important to know these symptoms, so you or someone you love can get help. This is not a joke. We need to open our eyes and see that people are dying from this. It's very real. But, there is hope and help.

Something you should know about Eating Disorders and EDNOS

Recently, I came across a great article on one of my favorite blogs, Venus Vision, where the author talked about EDNOS, or Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified. I linked the article to my Facebook page because I think this is so important for people to know about. I had never heard of EDNOS until I stumbled upon the website, Finding Balance, and when reading it, I felt overwhelmed, but relieved. Finally what I had struggled with had a name. I couldn't hide anymore. It forced me to admit to myself and to others that my behaviors around food and exercise were not normal. They were also dangerous and connected to other issues I had. I felt like a big piece of the puzzle had finally fallen into place and it allowed me to see the big picture of my life, and move forward in correcting negative behaviors.

A few days after I posted the link, I received this email from an acquaintance of mine:

“I followed your link recently about EDNOS. As a woman that has always struggled with body image, in spite of being what I consider an otherwise secure and well adjusted individual, it's comforting to know that I'm not alone. By the numbers, I am doing okay..but I obsess over every pound gained or lost, the tightness or looseness of my clothes, the food I put in my body. When vegetarianism wasn't enough, I cut out eggs and dairy. When that didn't seem like enough, I cut out all processed foods. When that didn't seem like enough, I cut out anything fried. To many people around me, this seems unnecessary, but it's the only way I feel in control. When I feel bothered by television or print ads featured "beautiful" women, I restrict myself more.

Over the last 7 years or so I've gained and lost, then lost and lost and lost. I'm the same size I was when I was a teenager, much smaller than I was 5 years ago, and I still worry every moment: this is flabby, that is saggy...I have adolescent anxiety about my body at age 32. But I don't binge and purge, I don't starve myself. Instead, I monitor everything. I count calories, I fret going on vacation and not being able to control my food, I'm compulsive about exercise...all things associated with EDNOS.”

It's tough getting emails like these. On one hand I'm happy I have touched someone's life, and I pray that they can help themselves or seek the help they need. On the other hand, it makes me sad to know that for one email I get, there are at least 10 that read it and can relate, but didn't tell me, and probably hundreds of thousands that are suffering, but don't know what they're suffering from.

According to Edward J. Cumella, PhD, “Somewhere between one-third and one-half of diagnosed eating disorders have EDNOS. The important thing to know about EDNOS is that it is a serious medical and psychological condition. It can be just as deadly as anorexia can be....It is important that people with EDNOS are diagnosed properly and get the treatment they need.”

People with EDNOS come in ALL shapes and sizes. ALL ethnicities, ALL ages and BOTH men and women,(as do all eating disorders). Direct from the Finding Balance website:

Persons struggling with EDNOS can range from 'less-extreme' behaviors like common dieting, frequent concern about body size, and/or occasional overeating, to more extreme behaviors including frequent purging, obsessive dieting, obsessive exercising and more.

Just because a person doesn't fit the criteria for anorexia or bulimia does not mean they don't have an eating disorder requiring attention. And don't be fooled by appearances; most disordered eaters are normal weight or overweight, not skinny. But they can still struggle as seriously as an anorexic or underweight bulimic.

In fact, many who struggle in the EDNOS category are at risk for the same dangers as those who meet criteria for other disorders, including the risk of heart attacks, dehydration, electrolyte imbalance and even death.

REGARDLESS OF WHERE YOU FALL ON THE EATING CONTINUUM, if your motivations regarding food and exercise are based on 'psychic' rather than 'physical' needs, you need to know that your struggle is important, and worthy of seeking out appropriate medical and/or therapeutic assistance.

I believe EDNOS is much more common than any of us know. Any time we allow diets, our weight, food or exercise run our life, we are robbing ourselves of precious time. Our society has made dieting, weight and obsessing about food a normal, everyday occurrence.

In the past, the reason I never got help for my disordered eating was because I thought my behaviors were normal and not dangerous. They were inconsistent, so I thought I was okay. I would go through long periods of normal eating and exercise, then plunge into disordered eating during times of crisis, stress, or even if I wanted to lose just a few pounds. What I saw in the media, in movies and news stories of what an eating disorder looked like wasn't me, so I thought I was doing well compared to that.

This post is merely informative. If you or someone you know could be suffering from EDNOS or any other eating disorder, there is help and hope.

Beautiful Blogger Award

I am so honored to have been giving the "Beautiful Blogger Award" by none other than Julie Parker, author of one of my favorite blogs: Beautiful You by Julie. Thanks, Julie!! To claim this award I have to regift it to 15 blogs I love and read and so the awards go to:

Voice in Recovery

Authentic Realities

Natural Birth for Normal Women (aka Use Your Vagina)

Life After College

May the Beauty

More To Love by Elizabeth Patch

Venus Vision

Beautiful Women Project

Motherhood Reinvented

Jess Weiner's Blog

Revolution of Real Women

Woman Uncensored

The Feminist Breeder

The F Word

You'd Be So Pretty If...

To claim my prestigious award I also have to tell you seven things about me, so I'll try to tell you seven things that may surprise you. Or maybe not? Drumroll please.....

1. I was a painfully shy child. The kind that hid behind my mothers leg if someone said hello to me. Quite the opposite now.
2. Having children deeply changed who I am. I was a conservative republican (okay, I just heard some jaws hit the table) and some of my views still stay there. But, as a feminist, well, you can figure out the rest.
3. I hate 2 things that are very "American". Snickers bars and Barbeque sauce. Both disgust me.
4. I have a phobia of drains. A serious one. Sink drains, shower drains and especially pool drains. I have near panic attacks when swimming near the huge deep-end pool drains. Even just typing this makes me uneasy.
5. I can do a beer bong. I haven't done it in a few years, but I've won a few contests. I'll sign autographs later.
6. I am a whiz at remembering people's names, but not at remembering faces. So, it rarely comes in handy. But, I am notorious for thinking I know someone and I'm wrong.
7. The worst physical injury I've ever had was knocking out 3 teeth when I was 7 years old. No broken bones ever!

I hope all the blogs I have given this award to enjoy it. To claim your award you need to:

1. Thank the person that nominated you and link to them.

2. Pass the award on to 15 bloggers you’ve discovered and think are fantastic.

3. Contact said Blogs and let them know they've won!

4. State 7 things about yourself.

Happy blogging all!

My amazing body

Today's post was inspired by another blogger and what she entitled, "MY perfection". I encourage you to click on the link and read her short view of what her perfection is. And here is mine.

This week is National Eating Disorders Awareness week and leading up to it was racking my brain thinking of something amazing and inspiring to write about regarding body image or eating disorders. But, truth be told, I just don't have it in me. Maybe I'm taking a break from writing about my own struggles, maybe I'm so far into recovery that my mind refuses to go back there and dig up the old painful memories. I'm not really too sure.

But, here's the honest to God truth: Every morning I turn the shower off and open the shower curtain. Directly in front of me is a large bathroom mirror, so I get to see myself naked everyday. It's not the same body it was 10 years ago, 5 years ago, or even 3 years ago. Three years ago today I was almost 3 months pregnant with my son, my first child. My disordered eating and exercise behaviors were ending. I don't think I knew it then. I wanted it to be over, but wasn't sure if I would relapse after my son was born. I'm proud to say I didn't. I kept going forward with giant steps, steps bigger and scarier than I ever imagined.

So back to the mirror. I heard once that if you can hold a pencil under your breast, you need a boob job. (Whaaat?) I'm pretty sure I can hold an entire pack of pencils under mine, and I still don't "need" a boob job. I have belly fat that spills over and my son loves to poke it and say, "Squishy belly mommy!" There are veins on my body that look like road maps, I have stretch marks, and even cellulite on my thighs. I am reminded every day of my sons birth from my pink, uneven cesarean scar. But, I ask you, someday at my funeral, will anyone say, "Such a pretty face, too bad she didn't lose that baby weight." or "That cellulite and stretch marks were a real eye sore."

No.

Because at my funeral, I hope to have touched enough lives that people will tell stories of what I meant to them, how I bettered someones life, how the values I instilled in my children's have helped shaped their own lives. That's all.

I'm not saying let's all throw away any notion of wanting to look good and feel our best. I know it's important, I get it. But, what's amazing to me now, today, isn't the same amazing it was even 5 years ago.

So, bring on the cellulite and stretch marks. I got the privilege of pushing a baby out of my vagina! Now, THAT'S what I call an amazing body. I love my body now, with all of it's so called "flaws and imperfections". It's pretty awesome to me...and for reasons that might not be what others think.

Photo courtesy of author (that's me!) taken by Kristina Chartier Photgraphy

Book review: "It's Not About the Food" by Esther Kane

I finally finished a book that I started months ago and I'm so glad I did. I loved it so much, I re-read some of my favorite chapters. The book is "It's Not About the Food: A Woman's Guide to Making Peace With Food and Our Bodies" by Esther Kane, MSW. Every chapter in this book spoke to me in some way or another. I loved reading her story, in fact, it sparked a past blog post of mine when I discussed my questioning if we can ever fully recover from an eating disorder. Esther's vulnerability and authenticity were inviting, which is always nice, especially when reading a self help book. It really made me feel like, "Hey, if she feels this way too sometimes, then I guess I AM doing a pretty good job!"

After telling her own story, Esther talks about types of disordered eating, which I think is imperative for those seeking help. She discusses Binge Eating Disorder and Orthorexia Nervosa, two eating disorders that aren't as well known to a mainstream audience. Next is an excellent chapter on why diets DON'T work which was full of fantastic information on many popular diets and what they do physiologically to one's body. So, if you're a science nerd like me, you'll eat all that stuff up (no pun intended).

Mindful eating came next, which I found particularly interesting because this is something I need to work on. My latest and greatest excuse is that I have 2 very small children, so I'm lucky if I get to go to the bathroom alone, let alone have the time to enjoy a meal and be mindful about it. She lays out a "Top Ten" list for mindful eating with tips such as "Take a few deep breaths before you eat to calm and center yourself" and "Turn off the phone at mealtimes so you won't be interrupted". Basic, helpful tips!

The "Food-mood" chapter hit home for me because she talks about perfectionism and boundaries. THANK YOU, Esther! To see how these two things correlate with eating, you'll have to read the book, but I can tell you, this chapter had the best exercises in getting to the nitty-gritty of why we over eat and I should say why we under eat as well.

Meditation and relaxation comes next and I couldn't agree more that this is key in finding your mind/body connection.

"Changing Our Minds" looks at the inner voice and conversation we have with ourselves. I cannot emphasize how important this is in healing our issues with food and body image. I think there is a real thing called being addicted to self hate that many people don't even know they have. Esther says, "We may have all the money in the world, all the success we could ever dream of and even be perfectly healthy yet still feel absolutely miserable with ourselves and our lives". I saw this first hand when I used to be a personal trainer at a gym, especially with women. It broke my heart that I saw women sweating on the stair master or lifting weights, coming to me with questions about their workout and would give me snipits of their personal life. I would see time after time, their lack of self esteem, a lost sense of self. I wanted them to improve their lives more than they knew, however it was beyond the scope of my job there, which was the reason I left and pursued life coaching. However, I digress!

In her last chapter Esther gives us some fascinating history of the female form and we became to be so "body obsessed" in the western culture. And she closes with more exercises to help us love our bodies.

Esther suggests nothing drastic, nothing too scary, everything is completely doable. My favorite thing about this book are the practical exercises in almost every chapter. She asks powerful questions which encourage the reader to think critically about things they probably have never thought about before. So many books are just talk, talk, talk and many of them are fabulously helpful, but a lot of times we walk away and the next day remember nothing we have read. But, this book, with all of its powerful exercises, is different.

There is life after eating disorders and body image issues CAN be improved. I 100% recommend this book to anyone (everyone, really) who has had issues with food, eating, body image and/or self esteem. You will undoubtedly learn something and if you put into action her advice, you're issues will improve.

Goodbye skinny jeans and good riddance

Last summer I wrote a post entitled, "The truth about my skinny jeans" in which I confessed that I still had my skinniest of skinny jeans. I knew it was time to get rid of them, but I didn't want to give them away to a friend (and see that friend walk around in them? That would be counter productive) nor did I want to throw them out. They symbolized a lot to me, more than any other jeans.

I decided to donate them to Eating Disorder Network of Maryland. In 2008 during NEDA Awareness Week the theme for the week was “Be comfortable in your genes. Wear jeans that fit the TRUE you.” Women were encouraged to donate their skinny jeans to symbolize freeing themselves from the constraints of an idealistic body type, whatever that may be to each individual.

The truth is, I decided this last July. And it's now February. I don't know if there's some deep, unconscious reason I've waited until now to get rid of them and blog about it. But, at any rate, I felt they needed a public goodbye. You may think this letter is ridiculous, or you may relate. When I bought these jeans I was in a dark place mentally. I had let go of reality somewhat. These jeans represented a false sense of happiness. A lie. A hopeless, false sense of security. Here is my goodbye letter not only to the jeans, but to the girl I once was:

Dear Skinny Jeans,

Goodbye. Today I finally get rid of you. I have kept you around like some sort of dysfunctional relationship. In the back of my closet you hung, sticking around while other clothes came and went. For 3 years you have been there. Every once in a while I would pull you out and try you on. Many times you almost fit but the cost of this small task was profound. Sucking it in, buttoning, only to look sadly at myself in the mirror and think, “Ugh, I’m fat! But I can get these to fit again.” I don’t know why you mean so much to me. You’re just fabric. Threads. With a tiny label that has a number: Zero.

I remember the day that I bought you. In the dressing room I stood in a size 2, pulling the waist away from my skin and thinking that I had made it. I poked my head out of the door and proudly asked the sales girl to get me a size zero. I wondered what she thought. If she was jealous. The power and euphoria I felt as I zipped up and buttoned you was unlike any other. I had done it.

Why did I love you so much? You’re just a pair of jeans. You never loved me back. Why did you matter so much? Make me feel so happy, even if it was false? And why, why have I kept you?

Well, today I say goodbye and good riddance. You don’t matter anymore. You used to represent what I thought was happiness and beauty. But even when I wore you, you didn’t make me happy. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s my fault. My fault I let you determine my worth and happiness. But I’m glad we met. I’m glad you were in my life because I’ve realized you don’t matter. No one cares what number you are now I don’t either.

Goodbye forever,
Andrea

Photo courtesy of Ro/wererabbit

Dear Reebok...

Recently Reebok has been running commercials that I don't like. To say the least. (I will post the ads at the bottom of this post). The first time I saw them I said, "Ew, yuk, how sexist!" and moved on about my business. The second, the third, and so on.....I had ENOUGH. I wrote to Reebok and have pasted the letter below. I hesitated at first, and thought, "What does it matter? They won't pull the ads, or apologize." But then I looked at my 3 month old daughter smiling away at me. I did it for her. Someone needs to stand up for the next generation. I'm not sitting silent anymore. I will carry my soapbox around with me and climb up on in whenever I feel like it and well, just read for yourself:

To whom it may concern:

I wanted to take a moment to contact you regarding your ads. I am an avid runner and in the fitness industry as a certified personal trainer and life coach. I am also a mother of two young children. I am horrified at your latest commercials, three of which are so sexist they are cringe-worthy. Two of the ads feature women and their faces are never shown, obviously an indication that these women are merely tits and ass. And speaking of T & A, one of the commercials shows those two body parts having a conversation. Have you cowered so low that you have to only show this in order to sell what is obviously a fitness gimmick?

I hope that my daughter grows up in a world where companies like Reebok are long gone, companies that view women as sexual objects and nothing more all in the name of the almighty dollar. We have come too far to put up with crap like this. I can only assume that your marketing team is made up of chauvinistic men, preying on the insecurities of women. Well then, good for you. I hope your mothers are proud of you. I am here to tell you that I will NEVER buy your products again.

Shame on you, Reebok. Have some integrity and apologize for your lack of respect for women.

Sincerely,
Andrea Owen

Here is one ad that I suppose it supposed to be funny...


This one promises a better butt and legs, because obviously yours aren't good enough if they don't look like hers:


And this one is my favorite. It speaks for itself:


If you would like to drop Reebok a line, here is the email I used: corporate@reebok.com

***********************************************************************

Edited to add:

Here is the response I received from Reebok:

Hello Andrea,

Thank you very much for your feedback. All consumer feedback is helpful, as it provides us with an understanding of the public perception and opinion of our products and marketing.

The Reebok EasyTone ads were created to clearly illustrate the unique benefits of the footwear in a fun and bold way. The feedback we have received tells us that many consumers look at the ads in exactly that light, however we acknowledge that some consumers do take exception with the content of the ads.

You can be assured that your feedback will be relayed directly to our marketing team.

Regards,
Reebok Corporate Communications