What's new with 22?!

        You know when you're getting ready to travel somewhere and the weeks leading up to your departure date seem to drag on like a slug in the sand? Well, yeah. That's me right now and it's really freaking annoying. The weird thing is that my time left in Exmouth is not going slowly because I necessarily want to go home, but rather because I know it's almost over. The months have flown by. Yes, months... that's how quickly it has gone. It feels like only a week ago that I actually arrived here, but lo and behold, it's actually almost time to leave. 

I don't want to rant on about how much fun I've had here, or how much I've grown and become a better person and blah blah blah. No one cares about that. Not in a depressing 'no one cares about my life or accomplishes, wah wah wah' but rather in a practical 'no one actually gives two shits about how amazing my time has been because I'm the one having an amazing time and they are the ones who get to read about it and sulk because I've been off in a foreign place living life to the fullest and everything seems so amazing.' Basically, I don't want to up-play my experiences and make others feel like they are not living to their fullest potentials. Besides, I'm the one who really benefits from my experiences, whereas others may feel some sort of happiness for my life experiences, I do not intend on giving every strenuous detail, because really, I already know how much I've gained and I don't need anyone's approval or support of how my summer has gone. So, to spare you the boring details, it was bloody awesome. I'm only using the word 'bloody' because I think more of my British host mom wore off on me than I thought. 

Why am I even writing this post? It's not to boast and it's not to complain. I think I'll set my intention as the desire to share with my friends and family where I'm at in life. Secretly, if I'm being honest, I sat down to write this at 3:52 in the afternoon on July 24th the day after I decided to watch an entire season of Riverdale because my brain felt like it needed to do something that took a little more thought.

After that obnoxious introduction, I'm ready to begin my update. It's July 24th (as previously mentioned) and I will be 21 for two more days. Let me tell you, 21 is not all it's cracked up to be. If you're younger than the big two-one, then keep your expectations low and your alcohol tolerance even lower. In all seriousness, this year for me was a whorl-wind, no, a hurricane followed by a tsunami and then eventually after some rain it turned into a rainbow. Basically it was crazy and nothing that I was prepared to handle. Those of you reading this already know that shortly after my 21st birthday, only a month in at my first "big-girl" teaching job, I had to resign, take a leave from school and move to Oregon for four months to get treatment for anorexia. Holy hell, what a dramatic shift for my life. That meant I had to put off graduating in the Spring of 2018 with my MA. That meant staying in San Francisco for at least another semester. That meant quitting work at one of my favorite San Francisco schools. But homies, let me tell you, I would not be in the same place I am right this very second had I decided to stay in San Francisco in the Fall of 2017. I may very well be dead if I hadn't made those difficult decisions. 

As for the eating disorder, it hasn't magically disappeared, as most mental illnesses don't. However, it's heaps better and easier to live with. I will occasionally seek out images that remind me of how miserable I once was and how terrible I let myself get. I remember how I felt in those pictures and I think of how I felt then while looking at the body that held those thoughts. I look at my body now and I think of how easy it feels to be happy with myself. I'm going to say this loud and I'm going to say it proud, I am fucking wonderful and could care less about how the hell my body looks (well at least today). Not everyday feels this easy, but most days I don't hate myself. I don't need to be better or look better than anybody else because there's not a single person on this Earth that has my perfect body. I have my perfect body and I'm the only one who needs to live with it. The point is, is that I have found a calm within myself about myself that I haven't felt in a long time. I am great and it really doesn't matter much if someone thinks I'm less great based on the size of my jeans or the genes that I was given. I'm sorry. I told you I wasn't going to drag on about my experiences, but I didn't warn you about my introspection. And I take that back, I'm not sorry, if you're reading this, then you're welcome. 

Alright, that should cover eating disorder. It's still there, not all days are great, but I'm 92% better than I was a year ago. 

Onto school and work. Because of my life changing decisions to take a leave of absence and resign from my previous teaching job, I will be graduating this December with my MA and will be teaching second grade this school year. My kinder babes last year were precious and I loved starting the year with them, but let me be real with you, TEACHING IS NO JOKE!!! It is challenging; emotionally and physically draining. However, the smiles, hugs, laughs, hard work, and determination that I see in my students makes being in the classroom so incredibly rewarding. This year, as a 22 year old, I'll be co-teaching a second grade classroom of girls at a beautiful private school in San Francisco. It will be tough, no doubt, but I'm looking forward to it whole-heatedly. 

And lastly, Exmouth, Western Australia. I've thought about au pairing since I first became aware of it's existence (around 4 years ago). Watching kids AND traveling, what could be better?!? Almost nothing in my book... I decided that this summer would be the summer to take it by the horns. I began my search for a host family in mid-January and found an amazing fit sometime in February. I didn't decide on a family until February because I really didn't know if this was something I 100% wanted to do, as I had just gotten out of treatment and thought I might have needed more support in the coming months. But because I'm crazy and sometimes make spontaneous decisions, I said what the hell and confirmed my placement with a family. Bada-bing, bada-boom a few months later and I'm in the smallest town in the most remote place in Australia. Welcome to the outback! I've spent the last few months looking after an energetic, strong-willed, and loving little girl who just had her third birthday. I somehow ended up with the best host family in this tiny town. Seriously though, I've heard horror stories about crazy families!!! I will genuinely miss this family and the few other aupairs that I've become good mates with. 

I think I'm done writing now. I've done the things, I've seen the stuff, I'm excited to see what craziness 22 will bring. 

To the Comment That Made Me Cry

I debated heading this blog "to the bitch that said..." or "to the girl that made me cry" but really it wasn't her, it was her words. Words have a lot of power, and even when individuals are not ill intentioned, their words can come out vicious and stab you in the heart (or more preciously in this case, the gut). So the point is, it wasn't the girl (as much as my inner three year old wants to scream and call her names), but rather it was her carelessness and probably her lack of knowledge about how detrimental words about weight can be for someone with an eating disorder. 

That's exactly what brings me to this letter. I know that some of you are sick of hearing people voice their opinions about what "hurt their feelings," but the truth of the matter is, is that it is so god damn important to allow people to speak their truth and share how they experience the world. I not only say that because that's what I'm about to do, but I also say it because I hear far too often about how people need to "suck it up" because there are real things to worry about. I think that's absolute bull. People don't need to suck it up (or basically hide their real emotions and then get lost in their own self-sorrow) , they need to embrace their pain and talk about it! 

Getting back on track now (hope you enjoyed that much needed tangent), it is NEVER and I seriously mean NEVER ok to comment on someones size. We all experience the world in different shapes and sizes and "big"and "small" is all relative anyway. I know I'm not as "skinny" as I have been. And let me tell you, it's a struggle to look in the mirror everyday. So don't you dare tell me that I've "got a little weight on me..." because I know. I do have a little weight on me. You know why? Because I'm HEALTHY and I'm happy and I strive to live everyday without feeling guilty for eating. When you tell me that I've "got weight" you reinforce all of my insecurities and make me feel like all anyone sees me as is weight. I try and convince myself everyday that weight doesn't matter, that I'm gorgeous in this body, and that I can be desirable at any size. I try and convince myself that I'm not lazy for not exercising, that I'm not a failure for not being the size that the world seems to want me at, and that I can still accomplish anything. 

Contrary to popular belief, not everyone's goal is to lose weight. We're so stuck in a society that emphasis health but accidentally forgot to mention that HEALTH COMES IN EVERY SIZE. So yes, I do have some weight on me. And yes, when you said that, I wanted to stop eating. I wanted to run. I wanted to prove to you that I'm not a failure for not being as short or as skinny as you. But instead I cried. 

All I ask is that you watch your words. Don't be afraid to speak, but be aware of the true intentions behind what you say. Why are you actually saying what you're saying? 

If you really want to comment on the way you perceive someone, try this instead...
- I think that shirt looks really nice on you! 
- You are fing gorgeous and you always will be!
- You really pull off that hairstyle! 
(or anything about amazing personalities) 
NOT
- You're so thin, you could be a model, blah, blah, blah 
- You're fat
- You've got wide shoulders, a big head, big feet, fat thighs, small/huge boobs, no ass, ANYTHING about the body. 

Thanks for sticking with it. Ask me any questions, I'm always willing to answer! 

The Diagnosis that Changed my Year

Before you read the first sentence and decide you don't want to read anymore, please hear me out. 

In late August I was diagnosed with anorexia-nervosa. 

With that being said, there’s a lot to know about the disorder, and even more to know about how it affects individuals. I had the opportunity to uncover the ways it was destroying my life, and the ways it has enhanced and hindered others. In short, outlined is my experience in a residential treatment facility, a partial-hospitalization facility, and the ways  I have learned and grown (both physically and mentally).

For some context, eating disorders are commonly referred to as mood disorders. They affect each individual differently, and they can serve an array of purposes.  For many, they are used as coping skills in difficult situations. They can also be used as a mask to hide things that are difficult to face. However useful eating disorders can be, they are never more than just duct tape over a leaky pipe. The issue(s) can never be fully resolved until the duct tape is completely removed. If you keep the duct tape on the pipe forever, it will eventually begin to leak and the pipe becomes completely useless and bursts. Eating disorders are the single most deadly mental illness (which took me awhile to actually believe). Sorry that sentence was pretty abrupt, but it's something that most people don't think about when they hear eating disorder (It's more synonymous with "skinny bitch" or something along those lines). 

And no, unfortunately I can't just eat and be magically better. It's anxiety. It's depression. It's OCD. It's like all mental illnesses that you deal with for life. You get treated for and hope to god that those thoughts don't sneak back in and consume your everyday life. It's the way the brain works. And my brain may be genetically altered to have this "eating disorder trait", but there are also amazing traits that often coincide with an eating disorder mind. Things like tenacity, being driven, determined, directive, energetic, fearless, spontaneous etc...

I didn’t chose an eating disorder. I didn’t chose the genes that compel me to over-achieve or take things way too far. I didn’t chose to willingly starve myself to near death. But what I can choose is the will to resist using eating disorder behaviors. I can chose to continue to eat when I feel like that's the most difficult thing on the planet. I can choose to sit down when all I want to do is run for hours on end. I can chose to express my emotions rather than keep them bundled up. This knowledge didn't come easy and it's still difficult to adhere to...

As mentioned above, I was diagnosed in late August on the day I saw my very first therapist (they're amazing btw, you should try one out). Being diagnosed on the spot was incredibly heart-wrenching and also overwhelmingly relieving. I still feel a lot of shame, guilt, and fear that came with the diagnosis, but I was relieved in knowing that my thoughts, obsessions, and actions were skewed. It was relieving to know that the things I did and the ways I acted were “disordered” because although I was “skinny” and “successful” I felt like a huge piece of myself was missing, and this left me feeling so empty, and sometimes not even feeling at all.

So, I left school. I left work at my dream school (which was one of the most difficult decisions I’ve had to make). I moved into a residential treatment facility and spent 9 and a half weeks living with up to 14 other individuals with eating disorders. I had learned about eating disorders in my abnormal psychology class, but this experience taught me more than 4 years of abnormal psychology classes at the most prestigious university ever could have. My eating disorder involves(ed) over exercising, orthorexia ("clean eating" only mindset), restricting, and binging and purging. Typing those words make me cringe and feel so much shame and disgust. I’m not proud of what I’ve done, but I also realize I did it for a reason. I was hiding from life and gaining a sense of control when I felt like I didn’t have any.

I’ve learned that I, along with every other human in this world, have feelings (no shit, right?). I am allowed to have feelings and I’m allowed to feel and express them (even the ugly feelings). My eating disorder gave me a way to avoid all sense of emotion; especially anger, fear, and rejection. Nobody really wants to feel pain, but without pain it’s difficult to feel true happiness.

Now, what a lot of people think (and I say this because I once thought it) is that eating disorders are all egocentric, middle/upper class, women who are obsessed with being skinny. Sorry to break it to you, but that’s not at all the case. Where it is the case that anorexia is a fear of gaining weight, it’s a fear instilled by our dominant culture. Don’t get me wrong, body image definitely plays a large role, but not in the ways I once conceived. Being obsessed with the numbers dwindling on the scale is more about achieving a goal (for me). It gave me a sense of pride in that I was able to achieve what our dominant society is always obsessing about. It gave me something to focus on so I didn’t have to focus on things that really mattered. It was an obsession that I couldn’t break. Eating less, losing more, exercising more. It’s a vicious cycle that I was never satisfied with. It wasn’t about the body, that I was actually never satisfied with, but the life. I had misconceptions that the more I lost, the more I achieved, the happier I would be.

In an anorexic body I felt the most depleted. The most unsatisfied and insecure. Now, after 9.5 weeks in residential and 5 weeks in a partial hospitalization program, 4 months  of treatment in all,  I am on my way to a full recovery. I still struggle, and thoughts don’t just disappear overnight, but I am leaps and bounds happier and healthier than I was before. I’m also heavier. I spent 3.5 months gaining weight and learning how to eat normally (don't ask how much I weigh bc I DONT KNOW and more importantly DONT CARE). I saw a dietitian once a week, a therapist 3 times a week, a medical doctor, psychiatrist, and nurses.

I’m sad to admit that I’m not magically in love with the way I look. This body doesn’t feel like a pot of gold, but as a woman I’m learning to let go of the desires that society and men have placed on my body. The most important thing to me is being able to live my life wholly. I’ve realized that I don’t truly value being the skinniest or the “healthiest” (which is messed up, because my "healthy" was only seen as healthy because of the way I looked, when in reality I could have been dead)  and that the individuals who are attracted to my anorexia body are not the people I want in my life. I genuinely value authenticity, honesty, and connection. I’d rather attract friendships and relationships whose values are in-line with my own.

I strive to eat all types of food, as I’ve learned that there is no such thing as “good” or “bad” fuel. I'm trying to break away from the fucked up ideals of "eating-less and exercising more." No, I don't need to eat less. No, I don't need to exercise more. I never needed to. Moderation is key. If I want a bagel with cream cheese, I can have it. If I want a cookie, I can have it. Every day.  I don't ever need to exercise to be able to eat. I am working on erasing all orthorexic tendencies. I’m working on exercising in moderation and in ways that bring joy and connection.

Life is so much more than a body and my weight will never determine my worth. 

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I want to assure you all that it is not my intention to host a pity party or even to gain attention. All I hope is that those who are also struggling are able to find a way to reach out for help. This is a mental illness that is not often taken seriously. Society tells us to look past  those who struggle, and I'm here to say that, that's fucked up. I care and you matter.

If you'd like more information or know of someone who is struggling, please, please, PLEASE reach out. This bullshit is not fun, especially not alone. 

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I also want to let people know that there are things that are COMPLETELY unhelpful to those who are struggling (and probably unnecessary to people who don't struggle as well). Please DONT comment on...

1. how someone's body looks
2. what fad (and bullshit) diet you're on
3. how much you exercise (or dont)
4. what you "shouldn't" or "should" eat
5. how "fat" you look (bc who cares, you look fucking fabulous)

INSTEAD try asking...

1. how do you feel today?
2. how is your day going?
3. are you ok?
4. do you want to go eat a doughnut bc yum 
5. is there anything I can help with?

Thank you for sticking with me. Your support, feedback, questions, and even the time you took to read this means a lot to me. Seriously ask me anything, I'm kinda an open book at this point.