*OUCH!!*

i'm not sure where i learned to hide all of my hurt from the person who hurt me, but i'm going to go on record as saying that it is a highly maladaptive response. i'm pretty sure i've always done this; i can't remember a time where i fully expressed to someone how much their actions hurt me.  don't get me wrong; i don't totally avoid the topic: i tell people when i'm hurt.  but i don't share to what extent i am hurt nor later communicate to them that i'm still hurting. i was doing what i thought was healthy: i thought i was processing my part of it.

but i wasn't. and it wasn't ok.

which is generally how i operate: do things that i think are working until they are SO NOT WORKING that i cannot continue existing if i do not address them.

so my world crumbled. which was partially my fault, because someone didn't know that they were continuing to hurt me so much. and then, after i was sitting in the rubble, i realized that not communicating the hurt i had been trying to process alone hadn't been working out for me.

with nothing to lose, i decided to tell this person about all of the hurt i had been harboring for so long. and, to be honest, i still don't really know how that landed.  but that isn't the important part of this story, because the future is not something i can control.

what is important is what happened to me after i fully expressed myself (even the things that i thought i would be judged for saying, even the things i thought were so utterly ridiculous to say out loud).  i don't want to exaggerate or anything, but EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE SHIFTED FOR THE BETTER.  it's been four days and the rewards are not yet diminishing.

i feel fully centered; i feel fully in my power.  i have since communicated other difficult things i had been avoiding; i sent emails and checked messages i hadn't wanted to deal with; i haven't gotten annoyed by people on the train; i have been able to be fully present without that hurt constantly running the background story of my mind; i have had several truly genuine and authentic connections with others.

and i had to think to myself: why on earth did i think i couldn't share this hurt with this person? what the hell did i think i was controlling? because, looking back over my adult life, i know that trying to control and protect myself from life's unwanted outcomes has never worked. and, post every earthquake, there is new space for something beautiful and unexpected to grow.

my divorce created room for me to heal from years of eating disorders, a rape created the space for me to abandon alcohol and the depression it fostered, and the continuing trauma of revenge porn has built resilience and given me the ability to stand up for others who are not able to do so for themselves.

so thank god i can't control the outcomes. and thank god i can learn and evolve and grow.  i'm here, watching new greenery sprouting through the cracked foundation, vowing to stay true to my full expression of myself.  the endless worries i had about what cascade of consequences would come after communicating my hurts seem silly now.

earlier tonight the following line was said on the new season of sex education: "you have to let the people you love know that you love them, even if it causes you a great deal of pain." and i heard, "you have to let the people who have caused you pain know that they have caused you pain, because that will allow you to really feel love." otherwise you're just pretending: at life and love.

evolve with me

everyone knows that dating someone who is on a completely different life trajectory won't work: there has to be a basic underpinning in common to really build a life together.

as i move through my life, the basis of what that is has changed. earlier on it was most important to me to have someone who had the same educational aspirations. previously it has also been important to me to build a life with a runner or person who was into fitness. while both of those things still feature on a "that'd be nice to have a in a partner" list, there's something else that has replaced my non-negotiable when referring to the person i want to build my life with.

i want a partner who is a truth-seeker, who wants to evolve.

there are little ways that's kept playing as important to me: i notice i'm more drawn to people who practice yoga and meditation; i am turned on by someone who has chosen to stop using excessive drugs and alcohol in their life because they don't want or need the escapism; i follow my intuition toward events that are geared toward people that share these interests.

i kind of thought this was one of those "that'd be nice" items, but it has begun to scream its importance when i try to ignore it.

someone i've been dating had chosen to stop drinking with me, and while they hadn't started following a spiritual path, i was impressed and inspired by their commitment. until the dedication vanished overnight: they said their motivation was only driven by me and in time we had spent apart, the desire to prioritize non-use had waned and seemingly entirely disappeared.

their sharp change in attitude left me feeling deflated, and much more than i expected. i felt the disappointment magnify the more i thought about why it was important to me. it's not support in my decisions i want, it's a full and present life co-producer i yearn for.

i don't expect someone who doesn't make mistakes; it's impossible not to trip along the way. but it's the design behind the life path that matters to me. and, so that i can attract that in my life, i'm stating my intention clearly and with purpose.

i want someone who is present, who isn't afraid to be present, and who craves a full connection with both me and the world around them. i want someone who fully embodies the highest version of themselves because that's what they want for their life.

gifts

last week was my birthday.  that, in my world, is an event.  my parents made a big deal about birthdays (and holidays) when i was growing up, giving my transient family a sense of tradition that would provide us with a feeling of home as we moved from base to base. as a result, i play up the birthdays of all my friends and loved ones... and i celebrate my own in the same manner.

this birthday was not one of the best. i got in a huge fight with a loved one that ended up disrupting a majority of the day's plans.  and a yearly call i was expecting from another loved one didn't light up my phone, despite my constant monitoring. these let downs seemed magnified on my birthday, and i cried and felt depressed all afternoon and evening as a couple of friends visited and others facetimed and called to try to talk it through with me.

all i wanted was to have a glass of wine.  or six.  i wanted to just go out with my best friend and shrug it all off; to pretend like i wasn't hurt and fucking celebrate my birthday.

but there was one additional complication: i gave up drinking for my birthday.

last fall i toyed, for this first time, with being sober.  i blogged about the journey as i started with 40 days, extended it as i was "assigned" an additional 40 days by elena brower (ex-life coach, present and eternal teacher), and then the lessons i learned about myself along the way.

but there were a few things i left out, even in my honesty: 1) the real reason i started the first 40 days, and 2) the depth of the concern i had that i couldn't do it; that i enjoyed alcohol maybe a little too much for me to give it up for even 40 days.

the real reason i started the 40 days?  the rape i didn't really want to talk about yet.  yes, i wrote a vague blog about it.  yes, i named it as rape and several days later even reported it.  yes, i was doing a lot of things to process.  but the initial motivator for the 40 days was when my research assistant asked me "do you think you're drinking more?" as part of a post-rape self-care inventory.

"no," i immediately replied, insistent, even to myself, that i was handling this.  but when i got home and got in the bath that night, i noticed there was a large glass of wine in my hand.  and i thought, "i don't normally automatically pour wine when i walk into the house." and my next thought: FUCK.

and so, the 40 days.  i wanted to demonstrate that my life would not be negatively affected.  i wanted to show myself i had the strength to do something i didn't think i could (thematic in my life).

and that's where that second omission surfaces:  i had concerns about my ability to stop drinking. in my first post about it, i even seem to minimize the sobriety aspect of the 40 days with the calorie counting moratorium i threw in to the challenge. (side note: the calorie counting was actually harder for the first several days... and that behavior had plagued me much longer!) but i had deeper, more secretive worries about giving up drinking: some related to social situations, but others were around the relationship (or obsession) i've cultivated with avoidance mechanisms.

i've blogged more openly about bulimia and dating as avoidance, but not about drinking.  drinking, with most of my friends, is not something we need to talk about.  because it's assumed that everyone is always drinking.  a lot.  you could blame it on the penn state influence, australian norms, or the single-in-the-city lifestyle.  but a majority of my friends are drinkers. so why would i concern myself with analyzing an avoidance mechanism that is an acceptable part of my life and relationships?

each drinking event i attended sober became easier and easier.  sober dates and sober holidays and sober vacations followed.  it was more recently that i came across some life planning notes, from life coaching work with elena, that hit home the non-named concern i had with drinking at the start of the 40 days.

excerpt from work written 5/5/14:

Things friends have said recently, but I tucked away due to denial:
Hal: Does your drinking every worry you?
Owen: It’s basically like rape when we have sex and you’re that drunk.
Matt: Yeah, I didn’t realize we always do that [drink so much when together].
Kitty: But we don’t have a problem, right? We’re young and single; we wouldn’t do this if we had families.

dare i say i'm thankful for the impetus to start the 40 day journey?  reading about my previous denial scared me. i wondered if the "sober thing" would have ever appealed to me.  emergency room visits and blackouts hadn't influenced me to change my behavior; who's to say that anything would have?

in the 7 months after the "40" days, i haven't had much to drink on any one occasion.  i've learned i don't like alcohol or its after effects on my body or mind. and i LOVE being totally clear in my life and intentions.

this is how i 37.

and yet i've been afraid to totally give up alcohol.  isn't it nice to have that one glass of wine occasionally?  isn't it therapeutic to have a martini with a friend when they really need it?  isn't it socially acceptable to have a glass of champagne while attending a wedding? i had a million reasons not to give it up.

and then, about a week before my birthday, i realized the problem.  i was looking at this from a perspective of lack, and the only solution to that was to re-frame it.  and so i did: this birthday i gave myself the gift of not drinking (ever again).  the disappointing july 6th had no wine; the party with all my friends the next day had no whiskey (well, none in my glass!); the birthday dinner the following night had no cocktails. 

but i have so much more. 

and this, my loves, is the how, the why, and the what of my 37th birthday. 

kisses that wake princesses, glass slippers, and valentine's day

last night i took part in a life coaching call with a company i've done some work with in the past.  i really respect their methods and approach.  however, the call tonight was on love and relationships, in true february spirit, and let's just say i was not impressed with the advice espoused.

"you have the pussy; he should be chasing it! he's obviously not the one."
"he should be able to handle you talking about marriage on the first date if that's what you want. he must not be the one."
"just decide what you want now.  if it doesn't seem like he meets it, he's not the one."

um feminism.  um that's crazy.  um think outside of the box.  AND STOP SELLING THIS STORY OF "THE ONE."

selling a mythology that each person has one perfect person out there waiting for them is problematic in several ways:

1) it causes people to measure partners against unrealistic expectations.  no one is perfect: making sure that someone checks off every quality on a certain list is impossible.  holding someone up to this list, or expecting them to always behave in a way you expect is damaging for a relationship, but also constrictive on potential happiness.

i'll admit that i had a list.  i had a list i kept in my diary that was constantly revised through my college years, and i wouldn't date people that didn't meet every qualification.  one of the obvious problems here is that people change, so even if someone meets every checkbox when you meet, there's no guarantee that they will forever.  when i was only dating based on my list, i limited myself, but i also hurt relationships i was in.

my now ex-husband once asked me, while engaged, if i would still love him if he stopped running and put on weight.  i didn't answer for a while, and then said that i would prefer he kept running.  he looked at me, horrified, and said he would love me no matter what i looked like, no matter how much weight i gained over the next 70 years.  i often wonder whether he ever forgave me for that.

once our marriage ended, i started dating again.  outside of the university environment, i found that the types of people i was encountering were less likely to meet every single qualification i had set for a partner.  specifically, i felt that education was important, and i wasn't willing to date people that did not have college or advanced degrees.  but, eventually, i decided to ditch the list.  and, as it turns out, some of my most beloved relationships in the past few years have been with people that i would not have even gone on one date with in the past.

2) it causes people to stay in relationships out of fear.  thinking that there is this "one" person that is a "soulmate" creates a situation where, once in a relationship, we are fearful that there isn't someone that is a better match, and that we should stay with this current relationship that seems ok.  but, again, people change.  or new aspects of them are shown over time.

i was married.  i thought i would be married forever.  i didn't think divorce was even an option.

but i became miserable in my marriage.  and my husband did too.  i am so thankful that he had the courage and the love-based mentality to leave our marriage.  even though ending a relationship can be painful, staying in one because you think you should, or because you think "but this is THE ONE, right?" is not the answer.

3) it causes people to think that one person must meet their every need.  listen to me: no one person can meet every need you have, except yourself.

no other person can be your everything.  in any romantic relationship, expecting one person to shoulder all of your burdens, to respond to your every desire, to anticipate your every need, sets up a cycle of unhealthy dependence.  social networks (both offline and online) are there for your support: family, friends, and colleagues can serve in these roles.  all too often people abandon the use of their networks once in a long-term monogamous relationship, expecting their partner to be their "be all end all."

i've done it.  i've gotten into relationships where, sure, i still hung out with friends, but i didn't go to them with problems.  i stopped the more regular everyday interactions with them and relied on casual social drinks to keep the sense of friendship alive.  but imagine fostering those relationships simultaneously!  yes, it's more effort, but building networks around ourselves is so valuable.

i date and love more than one person at a time; i keep my network full of people who support me and care about me.  but the relationship model isn't what is important: it's that you're constantly honest with yourself and your partner.

i challenge everyone to let go of the myth of "the one," whether you consider yourself to be with that person or not. be with a person you love for who they are each day.  if you're single, look outside of your pre-defined qualifications and explore what else might be possible.

and, partnered or not, surround yourself with love, however it shows up in your life.

new year, ever-evolving us

i'll be honest: i hate new year's day.  i feel no need to make resolutions, and have written about my non-resolutions before, a few times in fact.  but even so, reading about everyone's resolutions--mainly about working out and food promises--can be a little triggering: last night i felt a craving to throw up; today i wanted to run 20 miles.  i didn't do either.  but i felt an underlying edge of crankiness to my personality.

meanwhile, so far this new year i've already spent several hours working through complicated relationship issues with a few people in my life:  2017 welcomed in with a bang.  and, once again, provoking for the remnants of my eating disorder.  which feels frustrating. 

today i began sorting through journals and notes from my past year of growth, looking for something inspiring to help me through my own emotional turbulence.  one year ago today i started working on a course in miracles.  i found some notes from the first exercise i had done last jan 1, which was to name each thing that i saw, and then state that it does not mean anything. 

************************ 

"these flags do not mean anything."
"this mirror does not mean anything."
"this mannequin does not mean anything."
"this santa hat does not mean anything."
"this cat bed does not mean anything."

"this cat does not mean anything." was the first one that confused me; was i supposed to say this about living things also?  i wasn't sure.  i didn't dwell but i moved on.

"my bed does not mean anything" was the first hard one.  i had to correct myself to say "this bed does not mean anything."  and then i had to say it a few times.  i found myself thinking about the person who helped me buy the bed and get it home, and how i thought we were building something together when we did so.  all the people i had slept with in this bed, both friends and people i had dated.  the pain this bed had caused in bringing it to NYC.  after about six repetitions, i was able to move on.

"this hanging mobile does not mean anything." almost broke my heart for half a second.  this mobile i had made with adi one afternoon before leaving sydney.  i had to remind myself that the mobile was not her.  it was only something we had made together one day during big sisters club.

"this fan does not mean anything." (i had to go to an easy one next.)  "these shoes do not mean anything." i kept moving through things, struggling with some.  i got to "these walls do not mean anything." and paused.

it clicked.

these things do not mean anything.  none of them do, not even the cat.  we assign meanings to them.

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

merely reading the notes from this brought me out of a food/exercise oriented place and sat me firmly in a seat of emotional sorting.  i have done this exercise since then, and find it extremely helpful, but specifically at times of feeling sadness around a relationship.  relationships can get messy: stepping back from intense emotions, whether with a family member, friend, or romantic partner, helps me sort through what i am feeling and experiencing.

and so today, after reading that, i took to a practice of cord cutting, another practice that has helped me when i feel overly blah-blah-bah about my life. (yes, i'm aware that sentence was vague, but that's the best i could do just now.) cord cutting is a specific practice of severing energetic ties.  the act of seeing myself as unbound--from both positive and negative energies around me--gave me a bit more distance from "life" things and provided me with a much-needed sense of buoyancy. 

post-inspiration searching, meditating, and general aura-cleansing, i find that i'm left with a bit of a new year's resolution in spite of myself.  i re-resolve to be my best me: for both myself and those i care about.  exercising my heart muscle and nourishing my soul as my top priorities, with gratitude and love to all my support systems.

and all my best wishes for your health, and whatever resolutions you employ toward that end.

gratitude for what we attract

monday night i went to yoga and the teacher started talking about "gratitude, since thanksgiving is next week."  WHAT?! --yeah, i audibly yelled that in yoga class.  how the hell did thanksgiving sneak up on us?   (no, no, i know how; please don't bring that up.)  after that class, i began reflecting on my gratitude practice.  i've gone through different stages of keeping gratitude diaries and finding lessons i can be grateful for in each life experience.

the gratitude experience that stuck out in my mind was probably the first time i actively used gratitude in a difficult situation: i was having a break-up conversation with someone i didn't want to break up with--he was the initiator.  instead of reacting when he accused me of things, i silently reminded myself that i was grateful he was even talking to me, and then responded from a calm place.  when he called me a liar, i reminded myself that i was grateful he had overcome his fears about coming over, and responded with grace.

the gratitude i silently washed that conversation with changed the trajectory of that morning and of my future relationship with that individual.  we moved forward as friends, for which i was grateful.

shifting to an attitude of gratitude does have the power to change our experiences.  after contemplating that for the past few days, i incorporated a gratitude shifting practice into the yoga classes i taught this morning.  leaving class, i was feeling grounded and ready to tackle the day.

as part of my grab-my-day-by-the-horns, i texted someone and told them i needed them to do some healing before i could spend more time with them. it was a very hard text to write/conclusion to come to.  mainly because i care about the person, but also because i'm not great at boundaries: i often let other people's needs outweigh my own.  i had to protect myself in this situation, even though i didn't want to.

i felt a pain at letting this person go, even if only temporarily. but i also felt grateful that i had the strength to set that boundary for myself.  coincidentally (or, perhaps, cosmically), i found something moments after sending the text that i had copied for myself months ago from a friend's friend's blog (written by Rosie Rees):

You have attracted this person, relationship and situation into your life to GROW through it. They are mirroring back shadow elements of ourselves that we have not claimed. It is NOT your responsibility or duty to change them. They need to do that themselves.

let me just point out that i think the above statement is always true, which is why i tucked it aside for myself, but you know how some days some things just ring like SUPER TRUE?  (yes, "super true" is definitely a phrase you should be using now.)

i needed to be reminded that it wasn't my responsibility to help this person through all of their difficulties, especially when they weren't asking that of me. but what was most helpful to me was being reminded that i was seeing a reflection of myself in this person: i was watching him cope with his life difficulties by sliding back into alcohol/drug use.  moreover, i observed this as i was testing out not using any type of numbing agents.

he was the first person i went on a sober first date with--just a week into my original 40 day experiment. so as i was learning that i didn't need excessive alcohol in my life, my lessons were even more crystallized by the fact that he was experiencing negative ramifications from his own use.

i hope that he continues to grow and heal, but i know it isn't my job to arrange that.  however, it is up to me to decide how i feel now, after sending that text this morning.  and instead of being sad for losing him, i choose to be grateful for his appearance in my life at this time.

so just as i challenged my yoga classes this morning, see what you can shift by cultivating an attitude of gratitude. we can be grateful for even the seemingly worst aspects of our lives.  there are several instances in my life that i could point to and say "that really sucked," but flipping that around is actually equally easy, and much more fulfilling.

i am grateful for my husband leaving our home; i was able to grow and heal in ways i would not have been able to without that impetus. i am grateful for my struggle with bulimia; it has taught me more about myself and my relationships than another avoidance mechanism that i could have more easily blended into society's allowances.

i am grateful i have learned to set boundaries for myself; i am grateful i can choose to see gratitude in each moment. 

butterfly

i found this old journal today, with entries from march 2006-may 2008.  let me tell you what just happened to occur during this period of my life:

• i started binging and purging; 
• i became consumed by bulimia; 
• i met the person i thought i'd spend my life with

...and subsequently avoided dealing with the eating disorder because many of its symptoms were masked in the early stages of this relationship.

there were other events of course: a few weeks in italy, visiting my sister who was studying abroad;  my own study abroad experience in germany, with many additional trips around europe; the successful defense of my dissertation; and getting engaged.

though i was just completing my phd, the journal reads more like a young adolescent's diary.  the painful extremes i felt in relation to food and to my body were hard to re-read.  there was shame embedded in the writing, and i felt immediately ashamed while reading my own words from ten years before. i cried, without realizing why. later this afternoon it clicked: i was mourning the years i lost, the experiences i lost to bulimia.

in an entry i wrote while in london, i talked about an amazing gym i went to.  in an entry in an airport, i wondered whether the bathroom was crowded and whether there was an empty stall with a sink in it that i could use to throw up.  and though this part wasn't an entry, i was reminded of my stay at a hotel the night before a flight back to the US where they had an all you can eat buffet bar. i went back up the buffet several times until my binge cycle was complete, and then i went up to my room to throw up.  i clogged the toilet throwing up and prayed i wouldn't get charged any additional fees.

during this period of my life, my whole being centered around bulimia (which i affectionately called "mia," as if it were a friend).  i knew there was a disconnect between my mind and body: i wrote about it, i drew about it, and i summarized articles and books about it.  but i also wrote about the need mia was serving in my life.

in the parts of the journal where i wrote about this new relationship with billy and then engagement, it was scary to feel the differential between how i felt about myself and how i felt about him. i mused to myself today that there was no way my relationship with billy stood a chance.  anyone reading this could tell that all of my attention was focused on mia.

reading back through this journal gave me the range of emotions any loss spurns (the loss of experiences over the past several years): i felt denial in the first readings; like "it couldn't have really been like this." i felt anger at myself for taking so long to recover, for somehow ignoring all the things i knew. i felt deep sadness for myself and those that were in my life that weren't receiving my full attention.  moving through the grief was how i spent a majority of my afternoon (while multitasking through my day).

and, on the other side, i felt acceptance for where i am now; happiness for the support i have in my life; gratitude for the ability to change.

June 29, 2016: butterfly

that ability to change though.  yes i still think about food and exercise more than the average person.  yes i still panic about desserts or missing a workout.   yes i still workout on vacation. 

but i am not the same person i was then.

on the first page of the journal i wrote "i'm waiting to become the butterfly; i'm 1/2 way there--"

so much gratitude that i kept evolving.  and for all those on the journey with me.

and so much hope for anyone else going through that shit.  or any shit.  because if i can get from "mia is my closest friend" to butterfly--there's hope for anyone. 

evidence that change is possible.  that miracles happen every day.

jane fonda and me

i was obsessed with jane fonda when i was little.  my mother used to do her workout video at home, and my sister and i loved getting involved.  especially since it involved costumes: mama let us borrow leg warmers!  shayna and i would do the workout with my mom, and we felt very grown-up.

the movie 9-5 cemented my obsession with jane.  i watched 9-5 so many times when i was young that it became part of who i am: i have been know to force someone i'm dating to watch the movie so that they can understand WHO I AM.

but it wasn't until jane fonda published her memoir that i learned more about her. jane struggled with bulimia a lot of her life, and there is one quote in her memoir that really hit home.  she said that she found herself engaging with her eating disorder when she was being inauthentic in her relationships.  here's a piece of a longer quote from a recent interview she did:

...Eating disorders don’t represent a lust for food. It represents a loss of authentic self. It’s when there’s something about our lives and our relationship to ourselves and others around us that is inauthentic. And we’re trying to fill an emptiness. That’s what I think it’s really about. It’s a spiritual and emotional hole that we’re trying to fill with food...  If girls are in inauthentic relationships, they are more apt to have eating disorders... They need to receive help, of a very specific kind. 

the first time i read the line about being inauthentic in relationships, it immediately resonated with me.  i knew that it was true for me as well.  i use bulimia as a coping mechanism for a number of things: stress, anxiety, and depression are common triggers.  but there's also the old "wanting to avoid a hard conversation" with someone trigger.

until this weekend i think i had only binged and purged once since moving to NYC.  i've been doing well on letting go of disordered eating patterns as well.  but this past saturday i chose to binge and purge.

i beat myself up about it afterward and tried to identify why i chose this coping mechanism over a healthy one.  i scrolled through everything in my life right now and ding-ding-ding found one of the usual suspects: i've been avoiding a hard conversation with a friend and have cancelled spending time with him in an effort to further deflect the talk.  inauthenticity in a relationship.  ah, yes.

i strongly considered not telling anyone, including my best friends and my blogosphere.  but not wanting to admit something is the hallmark of my need to.  and so i discussed it with coral sunday afternoon.  she told me that she would never judge me for anything that i do, and i felt the warm loving comfort of her authenticity.

so, reminder to self: stop being inauthentic! but also get over yourself and shake it off.  like jane fonda would do.

identity of love

one of my best friends recently told that she was sad because she was no longer a girlfriend. when i asked her why that made her so sad (despite her beautiful friend-filled and fulfilling work life), she replied "being a girlfriend is the thing i'm best at."

i remember feeling like that.  i remember going back to relationships that weren't good for me, despite knowing i shouldn't be in them. despite my friends' advice.  despite any evidence to the contrary.

this friend of mine finally escaped a long-term unhealthy and unhappy relationship.  i'm so proud of her. and i know she is happy now and doesn't doubt her new life.  but i also understand her thought pattern... especially in mid-february.  identifying yourself through a romantic relationship is shockingly normal in our society.

it's pervasive: we publish it through "Facebook official" relationships; we call friend's partners by "so and so's boyfriend (or girlfriend)" instead of by name; we often expect women to take their partner's name in marriage...

i don't think any of this is "good" or "bad" necessarily, but it does become problematic when we start to identify ourselves through our relationships.  i've become lost in relationships before: i've lost my identity; i've lost my sense of self.  and that's probably why her statement affected me so strongly: because i could identify that version of myself that felt like that, and how bad it felt.

i'm really stressed at work right now: there are a ton of things we are working on.  yesterday i was looking through three computer's worth of old files, trying to find something i had written earlier to use for a new project at work.  as i searched, i found a document that looked out of place.  i didn't recognize the title, so i opened it.  this is what i found:

Recurring Nightmare

I try to ignore the constant messages I’m left:

A toxic ex who calls nearly every day.

I try not to think about the memories we share:

At restaurants, grocery stores, bars, the gym…

They persist.

The more I try to purge myself of the relationship,

The more its benefits seem to intensify:

I’m haunted by my ex-best friend/new worst enemy.

“Come on, one more time won’t hurt,

One last go, for old time’s sake;

You know you want to.”

I’m beckoned,

Seduced, and then...

Enthralled again.

I fall into the trap.

My friends tell me to let go, move on:

“You’re better than that!”

My unnatural obsession with the relationship

Confuses people

It steps on the toes of—breaks the kneecaps of—

New relationships; nourishing, amazing,

Filling relationships

And leaves me empty.

So I propose the series;

The "How to Escape Culture’s Influence" Encyclopedia, starting with:

How to Break Up with your Eating Disorder.

Written as a reference.

It would be proudly displayed on every therapist’s shelf;

It would be hidden away in every adolescent girl’s room.

It would have to be a series:
How to Break Up with your Eating Disorder,

How to Meet a Rational Attitude about Food,

How to Hook a Healthy Idea of Exercise,

How to Have a Discriminatory Relationship with the Media,

How to Marry your Positive Body Image,

How to Nurture your Long-term Relationship with your Self…

Because I know that even as I awake from the nightmare,

Again,

Another girl is falling for the same lines.

woah.  *chills*

i don't remember exactly when i wrote that, but it was several years ago. finding it yesterday, after i had already started this blog entry, seemed extra-eerie.

even though i don't like the hold bulimia still tries to exert, there's an old familiarity to the thoughts and behaviors associated with it.  especially when i'm super stressed.  feeling like all my brain power is going to academic endeavors?  easy solution: use old habits of eating/exercise/stress avoidance to get through the day.

i've gotten lost in my eating disorder before.  i've gone back to it over and over.  i've ignored friends' advice.  the familiarity, and the implicit identity that seems to go with it, is so tempting.

(disclaimer: i'm doing fine)

the point is that there is some layer, hiding below the surface, that still likes this eating disorder identity; there is some part of me that still wants to be in this relationship.  i don't think it is a big part. but the sentiment of my friend's candid admission rings true here: "i'm fucking good at this relationship."

you know what is not a good reason for being involved in any type of relationship?
because we are good at it
because it is comfortable
because we identify as part of it

sometimes the extraction is easy.  but often there's layers and layers of it to get through.

but underneath the layers?
self-love
self-identity
self

dear diary

when i was home last weekend, i found my childhood diary. it was locked, so i then had to find a hammer.

ok, adi had to find a hammer.

once inside, i curiously read through entries written from 7-15 years of age. it was pretty hilarious: i titled each entry (much like a blog post), and numbered all the pages so that i could say "see page 62" for updates on past topics (paper-based keyword search!).

i also went back and re-wrote some of the early entries with better handwriting... and then made a note that i shouldn't have done that, and apologized to my future self for doing so.

i found it very important to record events of note, especially every birthday gift i received and on which days my sister was a brat (titled "shayna the pain-a").

the thing that stuck out the most to me, though, was the amount of change from there to here. case in point, this entry about how i hated the whole state of california because it was in that state that my parents sent me to a sexuality education class:

"I knew I wouldn't like it here as much as I did in MS. I took a sex education. Everyone always seems to be talking about it. I don't feel comfortable. I didn't know hardly anything about it in MS. I liked it there much more. see pg. 41--I was right"

(page 41 was before the move, when i worried about how terrible living in california--and spelling it--would be.) and now? i dare you to try to engage in a conversation with me where i do not mention sexual health. change.

and thank god people can change. we shouldn't go around expecting people to change in the direction we want them to, but the true miracle is that we can and do all change. it happens in our own opinions and attitudes; it happens in our relationships; it happens in our yoga practice. the change goes up, it goes back, it goes around a bit, and then it flips. expecting or guessing at the direction of change: impossible? worthless? a waste of time?

yesterday i received a text from someone that hurt me about six weeks ago. receiving the text was a little unsettling--it kind of came out of nowhere. i had to sort through my feelings by texting with approximately 16 of my closest friends.

what did i figure out? it took a sleepless night to tell me that i was clearly still bothered by this, and while i appreciated the text, i kind of didn't know what to do from there. i'm not the same person i was six weeks ago. and, as evidenced by the apology text, the sender isn't either. change.

i'm not about to launch into some deep analysis of this situation. quite the opposite actually. i am left with this feeling of gratitude: i am grateful that we can change. i'm grateful for my growth; i'm grateful for the growth those around me experience. and i'm pretty amazed at our overall levels of morphability.

but, on the other hand, the other evidence the diary presented was my desire to write, to record, to be precise, and to make sure my reader felt fully informed and could understand the whole story. and THAT is still me. 28 years later: very much the same. and, yet... so. much. change.

ps: sorry i said you were a pain, sister. i love you!

be bold

for some reason the word "bold" struck me today. i had read a blog post about the idea that the way that you tell "your story" shapes your life. the author mentioned that she was striving to tell her story in a bolder way. and i started thinking "would my story have a bold protagonist? would people describe me as bold? does pink hair equal bold? can i be bolder?"

one definition of bold is acting fearless. a course in miracles dichotomizes the world into fear and love. if we take that perspective, being fearless can be interpreted as living fully in love.

approaching difficult conversations, interactions, or situations with an attitude of love: BOLD.


i used to talk about "when i developed bulimia" before my lifecoach insisted i change it to "when i chose to start binging and purging." it took me a while to incorporate that language choice into my lexicon, but, when i did, it actually became easier to talk about. owning my behaviors put me in the protagonist's role: i was no longer a victim of circumstance; i was no longer "sick" or someone to be pitied; i was not blaming anything in my life on anyone else.

i hear people every day attribute their perceived failures, big or small, to outside circumstances. if we consistently think that our life outcomes are outside of our control, we are let off the hook of taking action. but if we recognize that we can take ownership over our pasts, of our decisions and choices, of where we are currently in our life, we can move forward boldly.

and the best part is that it is never too late to take that ownership. it is never too late to change your perspective on your story, or the way you convey it to other people. this week i had a first date with someone. during this date, i talked freely about my part in the ending of my marriage, among other things that could be interpreted as life-fails. my date listened to part of "my story" and then replied with "wow, i didn't expect to hear that; thank you for sharing that in such an honest way."

that whole marriage-ending story is one i haven't quite mastered all of the boldness in yet. i tend to say "when my husband left me" or "when my husband moved continents without telling me" because of the drama of these statements. but no one has never complimented me on those re-tellings. a few chuckles or embarrassed side-glances, perhaps, but nothing more.

the relationship stories can be some of the most challenging to own. because there is always another person there: there is always another person that can be blamed. so it can be difficult to take the words and actions that are ours within a relationship, and to own the effect they have on the outcomes. we have to let go of the hurts enough to release the want to blame the other person for the story's ending.

and sometimes we might not even know how we got to a relationship's ending. one of my friends recently blogged about the struggles of today's dating world. and believe me, i know. owning my story in unexplainable situations is very challenging--when i think that i have acted as a bold individual but feel that i have received fear in return, the boldness can feel worthless... but i think that knowing where relationship outcomes are not directly related to ourselves is also pretty bold.

i don't want to be let off the hook in any area of my life. i want to take ownership. the shift we can make and the power we create for ourselves through such boldness is impressive. we get to decide. we get to act. we get to create. we get to be the author. and fuck, i think that's all any of us want.

today, i choose to be bold.

impermanence::home

saturday morning i went to a yoga class at the yoga loft in newcastle. the teacher taught a theme of impermanence. i thought "why is this resonating SO FREAKING MUCH?!" hmmm.

organising this move has been hard: each step forward takes quite a bit of emotional effort. i've struggled with a lot of it: questioning my choices about what to take, worrying about the amount of items and furniture going; anxiety over choosing the best moving company, not understanding what services are included; trying to figure out where all the funds come from for all the shipping and airline tickets; et cetera and et cetera.

last week i realised this stuff was so hard because i was operating from this baseline level of self-doubt: i wasn't thinking that i could actually manage this transition. meanwhile, "moving" keeps autocorrecting to "loving" and "movers" to "lovers" in my texts. i think these were messages from the universe: i had to shake some of this doubt so that i could start really accomplishing some of the items on the list.

so i went to see patty to cleanse some of this out of my system. she helped me realise that: 1) yeah, i like my stuff, and that's ok. i'm not a bad person because i'm moving more shoes than imelda marcos ever owned. 2) i need to do what's right for me at each stage of this move. i don't need to answer to someone else's idea of how i should finance things before i receive reimbursements. 3) if i shift some of this doubt, i can start to actually get excited about this.

i had started a lot of the moving checklist items, but after this session with patty last week, i knocked some of these items out for real. i told anthony exactly how long i'd be staying with him (ahem). i packed up my office (with help from louise and hayden), got people to come pick up the items (thanks hayden!), and cleared out personal items. i called the movers that had given me quotes, got re-quotes, got more evidence, and finally scheduled a mover. i found and scheduled someone to pick up remaining items and donate them to an aboriginal help centre. i organised which day i'm actually flying out.

i thought: i'm doing well; i'm really going to move. i'm getting excited! ...and then the endings began.

--i had my last day in the office. (richard gave me flowers, we did speeches, i cried, hayden and mandy made me pose for photos, mandy states "it's the end of an era!")

--i had my last art therapy session with the woman i've been seeing here for six years. (we review hundreds of artworks, i relive my entire life journey in sydney, i cry.)

--i taught my last yoga class--and specifically, at a place where i've had that same time slot since it opened three years ago. (my class comes even though class was officially cancelled for the holidays--unbeknownst to me--and we have a beautiful class. i see my students putting their all into the theme and their practice. i see every student get into crow, even the student who asked for it because she was certain she could never do it. i cry. i promise to come back.)

woah, guys. this is all big stuff. *impermanence-slap-in-the-face*

impermanence. oh. yeah. that's my life right now. of course that theme would fucking resonate with me. i don't know where i'm going to be living soon, i won't have a routine, i won't know many people... and right now it's much the same: i'm living in the state of limbo--not knowing exactly what i'm doing for the next few weeks as i try to see all of my closest friends here those last few times.

chuck and bal keep saying "this is the last time we'll walk down this road on a saturday morning," or "this is the last time we will eat at this restaurant on a thursday evening," which are most likely true statements. but i BEG them to stop it each time they make those declarations. *impermanence-slap-in-the-face*

what's funny is that everything is impermanent. we just don't always see it. but when i looked back through the art i had created over the past several years in art therapy, i could physically see it: i saw myself move through numerous relationships and stages of friendships; i saw worries and stresses appear and disappear; i saw a marriage dissolve; i saw new opportunities emerge. it was all there in black and white. and color. and 2D and 3D.

everything is impermanent. and it is just as beautiful as those artworks.

if we allow it to be.

so, as i fill out the forms to organise the movers, and i look around at this apartment roxie and i have made a home, i feel a little sad.

but knowing that this sadness won't stay, and that there is so much excitement to come, helps me be a little more present in this space of impermanence i'm occupying right now.

because, after all, it's really where we all live.

emotional fly traps

when I was little, maybe 8 years old, I was sitting in the car with my mom. it was biloxi, mississippi. it was summer. it was HOT. so we had on shorts. I looked over at my mom and noticed aloud to her "my thighs are like less than half the size of your thighs!"

I don't remember what she said back. I don't think she was upset at all. she probably said something like "that's because I'm an adult." but I know that on some level I must have felt some hurt from her. because I still feel bad about that comment.

I am a sensitive girl; I hold things close to my heart; I feel bad for unintentionally hurting others. and i get hurt easily: by others and by my own doing.

there is someone in my recent life who has continually hurt me. I kept resisting cutting him out of my life, despite the pleading of many other friends. "all my friends don't have to like each other," I thought; "I'll be friends with him even though he isn't treating me well; at least he acknowledges he wants to do better."

yes: I now hear it. that sounds like someone in a domestic abuse situation. and emotionally, it kind of was. you know how it's always easier to comment on someone else's situation; how it's always easier to find the flaws that are a little more distal? seeing (or hearing) the harshness of this situation took me a long time, but finally figuring it out is good for me in more than one way.

what's he do that's so hurtful? he jokes about my attempts at romantic relationships. it got worse over the past few weeks as I started to stop joking back with him when he called me a slut. I began to notice how bad I felt after each snapchat that insinuated I'd have sex with anyone; after each uncomfortable call where he joked that I must be out on a date.

so I decided to put myself first: I'm removing myself from this "friendship." I feel sad about this. but also proud.

why have I constantly defended someone who treats me badly? why did I immediately respond to the negative way he spoke to me? I didn't grow up with critical messages from family or teachers. I've never been in an abusive relationship.

well. except the one with myself. and that's the emotionally abusive relationship that is hardest for me to see and/or admit to.

the way he spoke to me is how I often talk to myself. I'm quite judgemental and critical when it comes to, well, anything I do. so I guess it felt pretty natural and almost comfortable for me to receive those types of messages from him.

the reason I need to limit contact with him is because I internalize what he says to me. even though i don't agree with his judgemental view of my life, I find myself starting to believe him. it's almost impossible not to believe something you hear over and over.

the same thing happens in my own head: when I say something negative in my head often enough, my subconscious starts to really buy into it. and sometimes I'm shocked when my subconscious says something like "I am not doing enough." I think "who said that? why would you think that? where did that idea come from?" and then I realise I put that idea there. I'm the one who silently judges myself hundreds of times a day.

so hearing the messages from my friend didn't dissuade me from being friends with him. but when I found myself internalizing the judgements of my friend, I was finally able to recognise that i needed to limit contact. he wasn't changing; he wasn't apologising. but I could take control.

and loving myself enough to change that is the first step in limiting contact with my judgemental self.

i listened to a podcast interviewing ellen burstyn today about survival. and it ended with this: "I’ve learned a lot from my plants. I learn that if a plant’s not growing, it’s dying, and that growth is a state of health."

I choose to keep growing. and, to my mommy: sorry for what I said when I was 8. xo

work work work work workin' on my sh!t

(i seriously have that song stuck in my head right now.)

every relationship is hard work. not just romantic ones. not just the emotional friends. not just the crazy second cousin. every relationship. each friend, each family member, each co-worker. every person we interact with is a whole complex person that deserves a whole complex understanding.

in the past week i've noticed this theme over and over: one of my bff and i got in a disagreement over a miscommunication and didn't really talk for a few days. another bff received an embarrassing text from me that we had to work through (hell no i'm not sharing what it said). another bff (yes i have this many best friends) felt left out when i didn't get an invite out. another friend called me and worked through a misunderstanding we had. two different friends got back in touch after a several month hiatus. a co-worker broke down and shared something personal after feeling under-appreciated. ...this is just off the top of my head, but there are so many examples of how important it is to put time into each communication and each interaction we have.

the theme also popped up this weekend when i went to a few festival of dangerous ideas talks at the opera house. in a talk about loneliness and depression, someone said (my interpretation): we spend so much time being busy. busy-ness is a stand-in for fullness in our lives: if we're busy, we're full, complete. but busy-ness doesn't allow time for connection. in fact, quite the opposite. we end up rushing through our interactions to get to the next one, not allowing space for fully connecting with the people in our lives.

to fully connect with someone is hard work. it takes more than a few minutes. and it takes empathy as well. it needs time, space, compassion, and understanding.

friday afternoon i spent time with my favorite four-year-old: adi is brand new big sister; her little sister is under two weeks old. adi has been feeling a little left-out since her little sister was born, so she and i had a special "big sisters club" afternoon on friday. she and i put on shiny tattoos, went trampolining, and then spent a couple of hours working on a dinosaur activity book and coloring. adi soaked up every second of time that was fully focused on her: she didn't want the time to end and made sure we scheduled the next meeting of big sisters club before i left. "umm, how's friday?" she asked as i was walking out the door. i don't think she even knew which day it was, but she knew she wanted to get her special time scheduled in.

after i left i thought about how adi might be feeling, and i thought about my own sister and how i might have felt when she entered my life. and i thought about how much she drove me nuts for several years. and how she copied everything i did and wanted to steal everything that was mine (like when she ripped the arm off of my favorite doll trying to pull it from the crib so she could play with something dear to me).

and i thought about how my sister and i are best friends now.

i'm super grateful for where we are. but it wasn't easy; it was work. and it still is. just like every other relationship. so part of this blog is a promise to myself and the relationships in my life. part of this blog is a reminder to keep working. part of this blog is an apology for the places i haven't put in as much effort. and part of this blog is dedicated to all of those siblings; all of those co-workers; all of those ex-partners... just all of the people: all of the people who have ever felt like they didn't get the time they deserved from somebody.

relationships are hard work. but they're worth it. and they're probably the only things in this world that are worth that much hard work.

energies

ok. so like i know my eating disorder has layers: layers that affect many areas of my life... like that actually affect my family, friendships, relationships, and career.

one of my best friends texts me and says: maybe you need to put some of this energy into your work.
i go late to a birthday party to squeeze in an extra workout.
i don't focus on a friend's conversation because i'm re-calculating the calories in my dinner.
i tell a friend i can't go out to dinner because i think the menu won't have anything healthy enough.
or, in my married life: my partner feels ignored and alone because i spend all of my free time at the gym.

and yet somehow i was able to mostly choose to ignore that i was allowing these things to happen. some of these things i've been starting to realize, but it wasn't clear until last night.

a friend and i were talking about the energy we put into things: into our work, into our relationships... and i asked her if she felt like our subtle shifts of energy were apparent to others in our life. like, when i make a conscious heart-felt decision, do the people that it affects feel it? i was arguing that they did (because i was feeling the energy being poured back into me after one of my conscious shifts). my friend said she agreed: she had noticed that after consciously choosing a small energy shift at work, a colleague commented and fed back to her the change. there we go: at least two pieces of evidence for people in our lives feeling the importance of where we place our energy.

and that's when it really hit me: umm, ok, so besides choosing my eating disorder over my marriage and past relationships, i was also putting all of my energy into it. no wonder my partners and friends sometimes felt like they were in it alone. because i was physically there, but my energy mostly never was.

i arrived back in sydney from the US this past week, and spent the weekend catching up with various friends. on saturday, i spent the day with a couple of friends, and just went from one thing to the next. that meant there was no time for a workout. not even a quick yoga sesh. in the back of my head, i heard the familiar voice: "ummm, wanna tell your friends to run a few errands so you can go for a run?" and it was strange, but i noticed myself talk back to it, "why don't i just enjoy being with my friends and take a day off?"

yeah, that's right. i took a day off. #miraclesnow right? you know what else? it happened again sunday. i went to yoga with a friend in the morning, but i never got to "escape" for a cardio session. i just kept enjoying my friends. talking. connecting. loving.

i expected to wake up monday feeling gross. fat maybe. like a failure maybe. like i had to do three workouts that day maybe. but guess what? i felt happy. i felt like i had been loved up all weekend. and i felt ready to take on the week.

so when my friend and i were chatting last night about the importance of placing energy, it really hit home. placing energy into the relationships in my life is way more worth it than another workout. i know that extra workout isn't going to fill me up or make me feel fulfilled. i'm not saying i'll never forgo a social situation because of my eating disorder again, but i'm learning. and i invite you to keep reminding me. if you hear me try to bail on brunch for a run, call me out.

i'm listening.

choose your own adventure

remember those "choose your own adventure" books? i loved those books like crazy. LIKE. CRAZY. live the version of the story you want? and if you don't like it, you can just read the other version instead? awesome. freaking awesome. give me that. always.

in the real world there aren't re-dos. but there are certainly versions of the story from each person involved. and there are also the various versions of the story we choose to present to the world.

someone that i hurt a while ago, but that i really care about, was talking to me last week about the period of time immediately after "the incident," as well as our friendly relationship now. he said to me: "how was that situation hard for YOU? you ended up getting everything you wanted!"

BAM!
WHACK!
KAPOW!

shot.
straight. through. the. heart.

why did that comment hurt so much: because i felt utterly misunderstood? because i thought we were past it? because i didn't want to relive the hurt? i'm not sure. the truth is, i didn't get everything i wanted out of that situation. in fact, i didn't get the only thing i wanted. sure, i have versions and pieces of it, but i also put a pretty big dent in my friend's trust. and that also hurt me.

so.
much.

it affected my words, thoughts, and actions for weeks. but, at the same time, it was also the catalyst for me starting to make change; for me to examine my words, thoughts, and actions. out of the hell i felt i was in, i found the capacity to start to make shifts. for that, i have immense gratitude.

but it was terrifyingly hard; it was not pretty: it was fucking fiery transformational shit.

and as i keep replaying those words from last week in my head how was that hard for YOU?, i find myself wondering: how many times do we assume something is easy for someone else? how many times do we think we are the only ones hurting in a partnership, friendship, or relationship?

probably a whole fucking lot. when we feel deep pain, we tend to forget about the pain that the other person in the situation is feeling. maybe it's because that person hides it from us. maybe it's because we don't want to admit that they could be hurting too. or maybe it's because we're busy trying to make it look like we aren't hurting.

i certainly spent quite a bit of time posting gorgeous photos of my friends and i doing amazing things during that time.

and then i came home and cried.

hiding our hurt from the world can become a full time job. when my marriage was breaking down, i spent lots of time posting happy things. and when my husband left, my mom said to me, "but you guys looked so happy on facebook!" oh, umm, yeah, i forgot to post "i feel miserable tonight" or "i feel stuck in my relationship and hopeless about changing it" or "here's a photo of us sitting on opposite ends of the couch and not talking as we eat dinner!"

hiding my hurt became second nature. as i think it does for most people.

but why not surrender to it?

being vulnerable, even to those you want to hide it from most, is what this world needs. as i've begun to crack open more, to allow people to see my un-armoured heart, i've found deepened and inspired relationships. i've become happier for real. not facebook-happy: i'm talking happy-happy.

it's hard work, though. letting the masks fall away; showing people genuine pieces of yourself. it's scary. but it is way way way more worth it.

so choose your own adventure.

live the life you really want: tell your mom that thing you didn't wanna tell her; confess your missteps to your partner; call your sister and apologize for that thing you did. ...and tell them how you felt during those costumed times.


show it. live it. and freaking shine on.

wait, not everyone schedules flights around their exercise routine?

i won't book a 6am flight because i won't have time to run and do yoga before i catch the flight. and you never know what will happen once you get to the airport and then the destination--flights and transfers could be delayed; who knows if i'd have a chance to workout and get some yoga in once i got to my end point? what if the people i was meeting there weren't understanding of me needing to have workout time?

when talking to some friends at a conference about two years ago, they mentioned that they were getting a taxi together to fly out of berlin the next morning. i wanted in on this deal, but they were all flying a few hours earlier than i was. they asked why my flight was so late in the morning, and i answered simply: umm, because i want to have time to run and do yoga in the morning. they looked at me with a little shock on their faces; one woman said, "it has never occurred to me to book my flights around exercise."

what's funny is that it doesn't sound at all crazy to me. i'm booking flights today to go away this weekend, and my routine is OF COURSE part of the planning. (don't tell my friends that i'm going to visit--sometimes i lie and say that there aren't morning flights available. ahem.) part of this attitude was learned through modelling: my father would never let us leave on our semi-annual car trips to florida until he had run and finished all the things he wanted to do that morning. forget the traffic; we left when dad was ready.

in our overweight society, we've been taught that exercise is good. it's positive. it's something great to do for your body. so most people say "awesome!" when they hear that i'm going for a long run. or "you're so dedicated!" when i do a long yoga practice. they tend to make little allowances for this type of behavior.

but my (not-so-secret) secret is that this is not a positive behavior in my life. when a therapist suggests that i "go for a run" when i feel like binging and purging, i look at her like she's freaking crazy: she's fucking feeding into my disorder, not helping it. obsessive exercise is a real problem. i recently read a great article that is trying to shed a little more light on the disorder. here's an excerpt:

Kristina Saffran, co-founder of Project HEAL, a nonprofit that helps provide treatment for teen girls suffering from eating disorders, says, "They will find time to exercise at any cost, often skipping out on social events or extracurricular activities to get in their daily run. They feel anxious or guilty if they are unable to exercise or if a routine is unexpectedly cut short." The key here, though, is the motivation behind it: As Saffran says, "They exercise primarily to control their weight or 'make up' for calories they have already eaten or are about to eat.”

ummm, yeah. that's me. just yesterday i bailed on going to birthday drinks with a good friend (who's only in australia for a few more days) because i thought i hadn't worked out enough yet. i ended up meeting him later, but i actually was carrying this intense guilt for allowing myself to choose an additional workout over the social situation.

when i hear other people joke about needing to "burn off" something they ate, or when trainers say that people need to "earn" their dessert while working out at the gym, it hurts me. we really don't need to "deserve" to eat our food. we have to eat to live. this attitude that food is something to be balanced out through exercise is harmful; everything balances everything if we approach everything in moderation. i know this. but i have to tell myself that over. and over. and over.

the meditation i read this morning in gabby's new #miraclesnow book was "peace begins with me." i love this because i know that if i practice this peacefulness inside, it can radiate out. gabby says that all relationships in our lives offer that opportunity, and i think that is so beautiful. the relationship i have with myself is where i need the most practice, but this challenging relationship also offers me the most opportunity for growth, change, and healing.

so i keep going back to these challenges, and am honestly sharing my difficulties with them. i apologized to my friend this morning for bailing yesterday afternoon. i am sending this blog post to my friend i'm visiting this weekend (she'll know about the flight lies now!), and i continue to look for opportunities to find the inner peace first.

[my amazing cousin that i love oh-so-much shared this pic on fb this morning. i'm stealing it as a reminder here. i'm so happy that he's been inspired and that he's looking to inspire others. you rock, travis. xo]