yolo

this afternoon i had a response toward a situation that gave me a major urge to binge and purge. like i planned all the things i was going to buy and thought about the timing and everything. i was pretty deep in it. i even planned out how to not feel guilty about it: my best friend moved away this morning; i felt unsupported: i am allowed to feel bad. when i felt this flash of anger, my immediate response was to lash out--and i reached toward my tried and true method.

and then i remembered something elena told me to consider this past week: "who do i think i'm punishing with my eating disorder? the only person i'm fucking over is myself." binging and purging wasn't going to teach anyone a lesson. it wasn't going to bring me closer to anyone in my life. it wasn't going to accomplish any goal i am working toward.

and i really don't need to punish myself any further.

so i spent the afternoon walking sydney's streets. i ran into a few friends and had sidewalk chats; i stopped and bought some art materials; i planned and bought groceries to make myself dinner; i listened to a podcast about the history of zoos; and i had a good chat with a bff. in other words: i took care of myself. i chose not to punish myself.

most things we do to ourselves are not at all productive. but we've learned them somewhere along the way. we've chosen to take these behaviors in to our life. and it can take so much effort to choose new behaviors.

i was thinking about all this while painting tonight, and little lion man came on my playlist, and i was like YES.

Take all the courage you have left
And waste it on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head

But it was not your fault but mine/ And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time/ Didn't I, my dear?

i like two parts of this so much. the first is the line about all the problems: all of those (insert "RIDICULOUS") problems i made in my own head. luckily i found the courage tonight to battle those spring's-mind-creations. the second part is where the songwriter claims ownership for the fuck-up. because that's all i'm trying to do. own my behaviors, my choices, my responses, my life. and the only way to do that is to recognise that i've chosen each part of where i am. and i get to keep choosing.

my heart's on the line, and i choose to give it everything. because i deserve it. we all do. and yolo.

my lifecoach is a bossypants

but apparently that's what i need. not eating protein with breakfast? "how about a fucking hard-boiled egg?!" elena says. ok. i admit it. sometimes i need someone to tell me "shut up, sit down, and respond to your work emails. RIGHT NOW."

last week i got in trouble for not responding to student and admin emails in a timely manner. because i've been avoiding things. i focused on my research, my phd students: the stuff i like doing. which meant i had over 400 unread emails in my inbox. UNREAD AND UNDEALT with (and this doesn't include the ones i read, starred, and meant to get back to later). so i spent three days last week doing that.

this whole story is related to me realizing more things about who i am and how i deal with things. a few weeks ago, i spent several hours writing out the positive and negative traits my parents have and how i express these same traits. and when i recently saw my mother, i talked to her about some of these things. it was the first time i had seen her in person since i had told her about bulimia a few months ago (i had hidden my struggle from her for 8 years).

when we talked face to face, she was asking me why i felt the need to avoid strong feelings and binge and purge instead. part of it is that i learned the avoidance from my parents. so i tell her, "well, you know how dad never shows anger toward us because he doesn't want to upset us? well i think that i learned some of these emotion-avoidance techniques from seeing them modeled."

my mom does this too, but i didn't mention it to her. i focused on dad. then, after a few minutes, my mom quietly said, "i think i do that too." and i crumpled inside. it was emotionally beautiful. i softly and slowly replied, "yeah, a little bit. but that's because that's how you've learned to manage your feelings. i just need to learn a new way now." and it was probably the most real and most amazing conversation we've had in a while.

i've been trying to "name" my most overwhelming traits that voice themselves in my head, so i can talk back to them and tell them how ridiculous they are:

miss smartypants can do it herself: i have a fucking phd. i know what i'm talking about. don't try to give me advice or fix me. i know what i'm doing and why i do it. don't even try to help me in any way.

miss disrespect: my time is more important than your time is. i need to get on this fucking train right now, and i need you to get the fuck out of my way. i'm quite sure you don't need to do as much as i do today. i'm busy being super amazing and i don't have time for your needs.

and, of course, annie avoidance: this feels too hard to deal with now; i'll do it later. if i avoid it now, it might just go away. if it doesn't go away, at least i don't have to feel it now. isn't it better to protect myself from feeling these intense things?

god those are embarrassing to read. the reasons i keep these voices around in my head are pathetic. sad. terrible to think about. and i hate listening to them. so i'm putting them out there. because that helps me be more accountable.

this week i commit to more routinely recognize and respond to others' needs more fully. i will give of myself at work as i do to my friends. promise: i will spend one full hour each morning or afternoon completely engaging with and responding to emails. consequence: if i don't meet this goal each weekday, i have to skip sunday afternoon yoga and set aside an additional two hours to catch up on the backlog. (richard--when you see me sunday afternoons, ask me if i've been emailing!)

and i also commit to still taking the time for myself that i need. evidenced: fullness training with elena on the mat this morning before leaving the house; facetiming with sister at the office earlier today and having a creepy face contest (umm i totes won that shit). and, to sister: #iloveyoumorethanyouloveme

a, thanks for the cover-ups before i could deal. k, thanks for the promise brainstorming. and o, thanks heaps for the fake lifecoach bossypants-ing.

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.

mistakes were made

i have a friend who loves the quote "mistakes were made." he loves it so much, in fact, that i can't hear the word "mistake" without thinking of him saying that phrase.

"mistakes were made" was made famous by politicians such as Nixon, and further popularized by comedians. the phrase implies that the person speaking the phrase made a mistake, but that they are not at fault for the mistake.

making mistakes: we all do that. admitting there were mistakes: relatively harder to do, but not altogether difficult. owning mistakes: potentially terrifying.

but you know what? if we don't own our mistakes, we don't grow. in fact, nothing really happens at all. so?

make mistakes... just make sure you grow from them.

i'm practicing: releasing the blame, releasing the hurt, offering and hoping for forgiveness. i'm learning; i'm growing. even though the past few days have felt terrible, i can also feel thankful for the opportunity arising from this pain. i'm glad that i've been challenged on my thoughts, words, and actions. my mistakes were made for me (so i could grow), but my mistakes were made for you (so i could grow for you).

i'm anticipating great things happening.
today.
and tomorrow.
for me.
and for those i love.
and i'm super glad for all the love. #twss

xo: KR, AS, MJR

anxieties and realities

i've had this one huge nagging anxiety that has been plaguing me for six weeks: that this one specific person i really care about would reject me. and guess what? two days ago it happened. the amount of pain and hurt that i'm feeling right now is pretty intense. but what's funny is that there is also a sense of calm. because my big fear was just realized. which means i don't have anything left to be anxious about.

but i can't help but think that all of the attention i focused on that anxiety is partially at fault here. where we place attention in our lives is so important. what i failed to realize before is that my anxiety was not reality. it seemed like it was, in spring-world, but that's only because i was putting so much attention there.

placing attention where we need it in our lives can be tricky. i am constantly sidetracked by emotional responses that do not serve me. purposefully placing attention is an art. one of my favorite yoga teachers, elena brower, has a workbook centered around this idea. cue purposeful reflection time.

so today, i took a lot of time for self-care. i practiced confidence and courage. i spent time alone without distractions: lots of walking, yoga, writing, and cooking. i meditated forgiveness. and all of my attention now is on love and happiness. because that's the reality i want to create. and it will have deep roots and deep strength.

pay attention to positives. try some little pieces of happy.

universal alignment

it's like sometimes the universe aligns. and re-aligns. and then fucking aligns again. and you're like WOAH. WOAH. WOAHHHHHHHHHH. hold the fuck up. hold. the. fuck. up.

because it's just too much.

and i'm not suggesting it's always a great feeling when this happens. it's intense. things just fall into place. and you don't know what happened. or how it happened. but it all fucking happened. you feel knocked over. you feel broken open. you feel raw. you feel scared. if you're lucky, you also feel connected and supported through that time.

personally, the last week has been a little bit of an emotional week. good mostly. meeting new people: feeling vulnerable in ways i haven't in a long time... which is also a little uncomfortable. re-connecting with distanced friends; deepening connections and ties... which is also sometimes anxiety-producing; not knowing what's next.

because of these things, i've also gradually been letting go of a lot of pain and hurt. i didn't even realize i was letting go of it. i noticed this weekend that i wasn't mad at someone that had hurt me recently. i had been pretty pissed off about this hurt for a couple of weeks, and the realization i had this weekend that i wasn't mad any longer was a little confusing. and then, today, i had two people who i hadn't seen in a few months (one this morning and one this evening) stop me and tell me how radiant and happy i looked. both times i blushed, smiled, and swept it aside. must be the haircut.

then i went to yoga tonight. theme: letting go. physically. through the breath. emotionally. through the heart. just really fucking letting go. easy, yeah?

no.

tears streamed through the entire class. i didn't even know why. i knew i was releasing. i knew i was making space. i knew it felt good.

and then, the universe re-aligned again. one of my nearest and dearest sent me a text saying "i am not in a good space right now" two minutes after i left the yoga room. i was there. i was open and vulnerable and spacious and ready. i felt like i could be there for my friend in a way i hadn't allowed myself to be there for someone before. i felt like i was raw and honest and supportive and strong all at the same time. it was hard. it was scary. not wanting to lose reception on the train for even a second, the tears streamed continuously as i walked the hour home.

another hour later, and here i am on the other side. my heart is hurting for my friend. my heart is forgiving myself. and my heart is shifting and opening for my tomorrows.

thanks to kelli for love and support in yoga tonight; to kitty for her always constant check-ins; and to all my loved ones that are hurting right now. lots of big fucking love to you.