I’ve missed you.
I’ve had to take a bit of a hiatus in the blogosphere because life’s been throwing some big changes at me lately. It’s all good stuff… but change is challenging, no matter how you dish it. And in an effort to care for myself, and stay present (read: sane-ish), I’ve had to adjust the expectations I put on myself right now.
Where I’ve been: The road to recovery
When I first started this blog, it was to write about all the things I myself needed to hear, and I think it’s still the case. I think I was so compelled to write about body positivity, self-acceptance, and embracing Health at Every Size not because I had achieved them and was living an effortless self-loving life, but really because I am still in my own journey of discovering those things, and my words were also my hopes for myself. And that journey got a whole lot thicker when I faced the reality of the health situation I was putting myself in.
I had been in denial about how over my exercising and under fueling was no longer supporting my health. “I’m not even that thin”, “I eat plenty, trust me”, and “I’m fine – I feel great!” were the statements I had adopted to tune out the inconvenient truth that was threatening my long-term fertility and bone health. I started running again, and with that I began to fall back into serious over-training habits, strict and restrictive eating, and body dysmorphia. My weight started to drop. My clothes didn’t fit. There was a part of me that felt soothed and accomplished in getting smaller, but there was also a small, persistant voice in the back of my head that said, “you can’t keep doing this.” That voice pushed me to finally get serious about recovering my 6-year missing period. But when I started down the path of healing, I also dug up the dirt which had been covering years of disordered eating.
Recovering meant eating (a lot), resting (a lot), and ultimately gaining weight; a trio that challenged the entire foundation on which I built my identity and my life. Everything I had worked so hard to achieve; my small body, my ambivalence around food and my fitness, felt like it was being taken from me. “This is bullshit!” I would yell. “Why can’t I have what I worked so hard for?” “I refuse to go back to being that girl from before.” Was I seriously supposed to just give up and settle back into the bigger body I deserted in my past? I felt so angry. What I had built my life on was crumbling to the ground and I didn’t know what to do with the broken pieces and bits that remained.
I can’t say I’m out of the woods yet, but I’ve made strides in the acceptance department. My body and mind are settling in to a new way of moving and eating. I’ve found support in groups and communities of women who are on similar journeys, and willing to be open to sharing their stories and experiences.
Hypothalamic Amenorrhea isn’t talked about enough. Eating disorders aren’t talked about enough. The more I learn and the more involved I get in communities and recovery support groups, the more my eyes are opened to how many women live under the unbearable weight of it all.
I’m here to say, “I’m here.” If you’re also struggling, or you’re going through the same thing, or you think you’re ready to heal but you’re scared… I’m here. If you need a pair of ears or a hand to hold… I’m here.
Where I’m going: Home!
We’re moving back to Maine!
I woke up in March, turned to my husband and said, “I’m ready to go back to Maine…” and he said, “Heck yes. Me too.”
I want to say, moving to Arizona was one of the best things I’ve ever done. It’s not easy saying goodbye the place where I learned who I am. But Brian and I knew all along this wasn’t our forever home, and we’re both ready to go after the future we’ve been dreaming about.
We’re closing this chapter of our lives with full hearts and gratitude and eagerly embarking on the next part of our life together.
Sending all my best,
Keep moving forward!