You are what you eat. I want to eat lesbians. I want to taste the rainbow, to eat sexual skittles. I want to be gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, forever. But what if I'm not? What if I'm bi? I have no doubt that my lesbian identity was truthful, but what if I've outgrown it? What if it's too rigid for the person I am now - the whole, expansive person I am now?
Among other definitions, anorexia is a disease of the relationship between the mind and body. It erodes trust between the two, hindering our ability to accurately recognize, interpret, and honor our body's messages. To recover is to restore this relationship.
When we choose recovery, we choose a new way of living. We choose new ways of harnessing our energy, replacing hurtful tactics with helpful ones. We look at the qualities our addictions monopolized - determination, persistence, drive - and we channel them into new outlets. I chose writing. Writing keeps me healthy as a horse.... Continue Reading →
Anorexia is a sneaky disease. It will take you, and it will own you. It will erode your self-trust. It will erode your self-esteem. It will erode your sanity. It will twist the words of those around you, turning wisdom into toxicity. Have you heard the saying, Less is more? If you speak the English... Continue Reading →
Dearest Bella: As the title suggests, this is a letter from yourself, to yourself, to endorse yourself for the enlightened being that you are. Just kidding - you're not enlightened. Not yet anyway. But stay on this path, and you'll get there. You'll get there.
I am learning to love myself and take ownership of my happiness and health. I'm beginning to realize that I'm more than my external motivators: more than my accomplishments, more than my activities, more than exercise, and more than food.
Dear Nonna: I do not know your favorite color, so I've chosen to write in red, as it is fierce and strong, like you. I too, Nonna, am fierce and strong, though I'm not sure you truly saw this, as there was a wall between us during your time on Earth. However, now that you've passed from the physical world to the spiritual, I trust that you can see me clearly, and I, in turn, see you.
To truly detach, I have to humble myself by admitting I don't know what is best. I have to believe that everyone lives their lives as perfectly as they can - that they have something specific to learn from their experience. And I have to give them the dignity of learning it.