Change

Last summer I spent an evening in Savannah, Georgia. My mom and I embarked on our yearly trip to meet some family members in Tennessee, and what was supposed to just be a fun rest stop amidst a 14 hour drive turned into a sort of turning point for me.

After a bad breakup and several attempts to find love (or more like comfort, in hindsight) in all the wrong places, prior to this day I hadn’t thought about how much I needed a new outlook . My mom has always been the person who understands me better than anyone else could dream of, and a week of me and her on the road did more good for me than I realized at the time.

To most people, this photo looks like nothing more than a semi-blurry picture of a girl in a restaurant. But I see a hundred problems hiding under the surface: a girl who has lost her sense of direction in life, who is beyond frustrated, mentally counting the calories in the meal she just ordered, and wondering how much longer she can stand to be alive.

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I was obsessed with appearances. I had to be the skinniest, prettiest person I could turn myself into. I had to be fit, working out for hours upon hours everyday until I felt sick. I learned to love the feeling of an empty stomach. I still do, though now I wish I didn’t. I  piled on makeup to the best of my ability and wore outfits that I thought made me look smaller. I had to fix everything, but found new problems with myself everyday. I took selfies and posted them on Instagram to prove to others and myself that I had confidence.

There is nothing wrong with taking care of oneself, or wanting to look nice and be healthy, but I took it to an extreme. I loved when my extended family commented on how great I suddenly looked. I loved that boys suddenly paid attention to me and girls wanted to be my friend. I loved that I had a secret, that I could reinvent myself by choosing who I spent my time with, that I could pretend to fit in with people other than my immediate family for a change.

But those things did not equate to happiness. I did not find salvation in any of them. All I felt was a constant ache for more, but I didn’t get anything more until I proved that, while I may not necessarily deserve it, I could work hard for better things. I could have the best intentions, be positive, and be genuine as often as possible.

I needed God, and acted (even believed at times) that He and I were perfectly okay with each other, but I found that I couldn’t simultaneously be abusing/lying to myself and be in a healthy relationship with Him. Praying means next to nothing if I turn around and act irrational the next minute, whether that be in the way I treat my body or the poor decisions I make to feel less empty.

Relying on frivolous things like appearances, other people’s validation, and success to bring you joy will only result in feeling worse off in the end. I was never more broken than I was at that time, but it was in the brokenness that I was able to make a change.

I didn’t figure everything out on that trip. I didn’t suddenly turn into a new person or have a great relationship with God in a day. Even now, our relationship falters. I’m human and while it’s not an excuse, it is a fact that I’m not going to be perfect. However, it was a turning point.

Throughout that single week, I made decisions that I truly believed would better my life. And sanity, if we’re honest. I had incredible conversations about salvation, thought a lot about what God wanted me to do and how He wanted me to treat myself, and it was because of those decisions that I finally was able to move forward with my life.

I have never been able to say that I am happy. Even in the best moments, I didn’t feel a constant sense of joy. But even on my darker days, I have hope now. I wouldn’t have that if I hadn’t made difficult, but responsible decisions back then. I had to face reality instead of complaining about it, and as soon as I did, my entire outlook on myself and my existence changed. I changed. I grew.

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When The Fat Girl Gets Skinny by Blythe Baird

If you know me, you know about my deeply rooted love for poetry. Oh, you thought that was going to go away with this sudden change of blog content? Absolutely not. It was bound to manifest itself in one form or another.

I’ve seen hundreds of poetry videos, read thousands of poems, and most of them are beautiful in their own regard but occasionally I come across one that really hits home. One that pulls me either farther into reality or so far out of it that I can barely recognize myself for a while afterwards, depending on the subject-matter. I’ll rewatch or reread it until every word is etched into my brain and I can recite it at a moments notice, just in case someone asks what my favorite poem is. They never do, but I like to tell it anyway.

This is one of those poems for me. It’s not that it’s the most perfectly written. It’s simple in most regards, but as I said, it hits home. The simplicity highlights how profound it actually is. How real it is. The first time I watched it, I let it play on repeat while I lied on the couch crying. Hopefully you don’t do that, but hopefully it does give you something to think about.

Things to do instead of starving yourself/purging/anything that you could maybe possibly consider the opposite of eating:

  • Stop comparing. Get off the internet and get away from the photos that you titled “Thinspiration.” In fact, delete that word from your vocabulary entirely because it’s nothing more than a made-up term to make people feel guilty that they don’t have an unhealthily flat stomach or protruding collarbones. Stop looking at your “progress” photos. Stop comparing the way your stomach looks in the morning to the way your stomach looks at night. Stop staring at your friend’s bodies and thinking, “but they have the right kind of curves.” There are no “right” curves. There are the curves they have and there are the curves you have. That’s it.
  • Do something productive immediately after eating. No, I don’t mean punishing yourself with five hours of exercise. I mean doing something other than dwelling on how guilty you feel. Finish that book report you’ve been putting off, learn a new skill, volunteer and give back to your community. Something to make you feel better and not worry about the food in your stomach. You are meant to eat.
  • No, that one brownie will not make you fat. However if it will make you feel so disgusting that you can’t function, then eat something healthy instead. What matters is that you ate something. You don’t always have to take a big step, but take a step.
  • Spend time making food, and then eat it. Instead of digging into a bag of chips or a Ben & Jerry’s tub of ice cream, something that is immediately satisfactory, make food that requires effort. This is especially helpful if you cook/bake with other people because then they can not only keep you in check but make it fun too. You worked hard for it, so you will feel better about eating it when you’re done. Again, one bowl of ice cream won’t make you fat, but baby steps are still steps nonetheless.
  • Pray. Talk to people who understand. Talk to anybody who will listen and consequently tell you what you need to hear.

 

“Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” (Mark 14:38)