Stability; it's something that everyone seems to want for themselves and their children. We want a steady job, to live in one place, to have stable relationships - all to essentially create this protective bubble around us from things we cannot control. I was raised this way. I lived in the same house for 19 years before moving out, my parents were married for most of my years at home, and our weekly routine was solid. Now, as an adult reflecting back, I'm beginning to wonder if there may have been too much stability in my upbringing.
Change was something I really struggled with as I entered my teen years. Everything from a change in relationship status to my best friend's parents remodeling their home; I had a very strong tendency to cling onto things. I also can now see that once I was comfortable, it took a lot for me to break free of that comfort zone, if it even happened at all. I had the same best friend my entire life, and we had a blast growing up down the street from each other, but I clung to that relationship so closely that it prevented me from branching out and becoming a part of other friendship circles. And, when my friend was able to do this, I felt trapped within my own limits. I put most of my energy as a teenager into my boyfriends; obsessing over seeing them, constantly on the phone with them, and always thinking of them. Having a boyfriend in general was a big part of my stability bubble, so I easily jumped from one to the next.
Too much stability made me feel close minded. I assumed I'd stay in Worcester forever, because, why not? My dad grew up just one town over, and has been in our Worcester house for nearly 40 years. I assumed I'd do the same. It wasn't until I chose to stay in the city for massage school when everyone else went away for college that I even remotely considered living someplace else. For the first time, I felt truly alone, and really had to make a plan for myself. But, as my stability bubble would have it, instead of taking that time to do what I did years later and work on getting to know myself through personal growth, I hopped online and found myself another boyfriend to fill the void.
Fast forward through a pregnancy, baby, break up, and yes, another relationship, my comfort zone was no longer in tact. How cliché of me to say that everything happens for a reason, but hell, it does. I can look back and literally watch these life events fall into place to create the puzzle that is now my life. Becoming a mother made me think for someone other than myself for the first time. Meeting my husband who lived 90 minutes away made me consider moving for the first time. Actually making that move forced me to make new friends, including getting to know just who the hell I was. And, all of this in turn has made me feel open to even more change and less "stability".
Take our house for example. When house hunting, we were very black and white about location; it either had to be near Worcester or near Fairhaven - we felt it necessary to be close to at least one side of our family. When we found a house that suited most of our needs in Acushnet, we bought it, and I assumed from living in the same house my entire life, that this would be it - our forever home. Being the clingy-type, I initially liked the comfort of having his family so close, both for the social aspect of simply knowing people in the area, and also for the help we receive with our girls. I also loved that I was a quick 90 minute drive from my mom and dad, and just an hour from my brother. This in essence still held up parts of that stability bubble for me. My husband has always talked about retiring to North Carolina, which for him is at a young 45, and though I was open to this thought, I always stubbornly refused to go anywhere until my parents passed. Knowing my parents lived in close proximity to theirs, I felt it was what I should do too.
Though time with family is important, I am starting to see that my thought process of staying put has more to do with that bubble of comfort than it does anything else. And, just like when my friends went away for college, soon, my parents whereabouts may change too. My dad and his wife plan to move to New Hampshire, my mother has always longed to live in Maine, my sister in law's dream is to move to Florida, and then there's us - sticking around in an area that my husband has always lived and is my new stable place. Recently, when talk of retirement emerged again, a new, liberating thought came about: why wait?
I must credit the piles of books, hours of yoga, miles of running, and pages of writing to the person I am today. It's truly been hard work, but to have reached a point in my life where I am comfortable simple being me is opening so many new doors. Never before would I have been willing to move completely away. And now? Now I know I will be fine no matter where I go, because I am who I am whether I live in Massachusetts or North Carolina, whether I am 90 minutes or 14 hours from family. Even if such a dramatic move isn't in our near future, I feel like my openness and willingness to do so proves that I have hit another level of comfort, though this time it isn't dependent on anyone but me. Plus, the thought of not having to deal with New England winters surely is a bonus.
This personal growth shit is pretty cool, and its "aha" moments like this that shed light on my progress. I may have had what I believe is too much stability in my childhood, and struggled with change until very recently, but had I not experienced all of that, I would still be close minded to the many opportunities that have presented themselves recently. I also know that I have the power to raise my children in a world of change and growth in hopes that they can be better prepared for what life has in store for them. Whatever the universe hands me, I feel ready for it, and that's pretty fucking awesome.
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
Monday, June 27, 2016
Disorered Eating Control - An Update
As I've written before, disordered eating has haunted me for years. Even once I was able to overcome the viscous cycle of over eating, over exercising, and restricting, I found that the hard part had only just begun: changing the habit is one thing, but training your mind to think healthfully was another.
I think my biggest motivation is knowing that a nourished body is an admired body. My husband used to rebuttal my "look at that guy's 6 pack!" comment with a "yeah, but it's easy for him because he's skinny" comment. I used to defend Mr. 6-Pack by arguing that just because he's skinny doesn't mean he doesn't work out often and eat right, until I realized that there may be some truth to what my husband was saying. It had more to do with the fact that someone who has to work harder is, in a way, more respected for their hard work and in turn their athleticism and body. I learned that if I restricted my eating or over exercised after a binge, there was the "but" factor - and not in the bootylicious kind of way - but in the "yeah, she has a nice body but she barely eats" way. I didn't want their to be a "but" factor when it came to my body, training, or really anything. I wanted to be healthy, and do to that by developing healthy habits with both food and exercise. If someone tells me I look great, I want it to be because I AM an eater, and I DO work hard in the gym, and I WORK to nourish my body. That is much more admiral than someone who looks good "but" works out three times a day, "but" they skip meals.
Gaining this control over my eating habits has allowed for more healthy exercise habits. I no longer wake up in the morning and base the days work out on the amount of almonds and cashews consumed before bed. It was under control, and therefore my work out will be what my body needs that day, whether it be running, lifting, yoga, or most important - a rest day. I am much more inclined to actually rest when I feel my body needs it knowing that I don't need to "work off" the previous days choices. A quote from Women's Health has resonated with me deeply: "Exercise is a celebration of what your body can do. Not a punishment for what you ate" - Bingo. It's actually more motivating to work out knowing that I'm celebrating a healthy body instead of punishing a malnourished one.
Other than the removal of my "trigger foods" to help me gain control, one of the biggest factors to my foodie-joy has been to simply give into cravings. If I want a glass or two of wine, I pour it. If I want dessert after dinner, I eat it. I've learned that restricting leads to binging, and to break that cycle I needed to simply give in here or there. A few bites of ice cream was much better than the entire container of strawberries I used to substitute for, and squashed my craving instead of leaving my palate insatiable.
I love food, and I am an eater. There are 3 eggs in my omelets, an entire avocado in my salads, bacon on my grass-fed burger, and everything is doused in olive oil. I love that I can be an example of someone who has overcome disordered eating by ACTUALLY eating - and in the high-fat high-protein manner to boot. I am healthy because I eat well and often, and because I work out with a healthy mindset. I respect myself for the choices I make, and because of that, other's respect it too. I love challenging my body in terms of exercise: how much further can I run? How much heavier can I lift? What new yoga poses can I learn? And, I love refueling my body properly to earn that respect. I'd rather eat the damn broccoli and have a bloated belly than to avoid a healthy choice based on image. It's taken me a long time to get to where I am today, and there are still days that I am a little too aware of my eating habits, but I am confident in the choices I am making for my health, and look forward to continuing on in the right direction.
I think my biggest motivation is knowing that a nourished body is an admired body. My husband used to rebuttal my "look at that guy's 6 pack!" comment with a "yeah, but it's easy for him because he's skinny" comment. I used to defend Mr. 6-Pack by arguing that just because he's skinny doesn't mean he doesn't work out often and eat right, until I realized that there may be some truth to what my husband was saying. It had more to do with the fact that someone who has to work harder is, in a way, more respected for their hard work and in turn their athleticism and body. I learned that if I restricted my eating or over exercised after a binge, there was the "but" factor - and not in the bootylicious kind of way - but in the "yeah, she has a nice body but she barely eats" way. I didn't want their to be a "but" factor when it came to my body, training, or really anything. I wanted to be healthy, and do to that by developing healthy habits with both food and exercise. If someone tells me I look great, I want it to be because I AM an eater, and I DO work hard in the gym, and I WORK to nourish my body. That is much more admiral than someone who looks good "but" works out three times a day, "but" they skip meals.
Gaining this control over my eating habits has allowed for more healthy exercise habits. I no longer wake up in the morning and base the days work out on the amount of almonds and cashews consumed before bed. It was under control, and therefore my work out will be what my body needs that day, whether it be running, lifting, yoga, or most important - a rest day. I am much more inclined to actually rest when I feel my body needs it knowing that I don't need to "work off" the previous days choices. A quote from Women's Health has resonated with me deeply: "Exercise is a celebration of what your body can do. Not a punishment for what you ate" - Bingo. It's actually more motivating to work out knowing that I'm celebrating a healthy body instead of punishing a malnourished one.
Other than the removal of my "trigger foods" to help me gain control, one of the biggest factors to my foodie-joy has been to simply give into cravings. If I want a glass or two of wine, I pour it. If I want dessert after dinner, I eat it. I've learned that restricting leads to binging, and to break that cycle I needed to simply give in here or there. A few bites of ice cream was much better than the entire container of strawberries I used to substitute for, and squashed my craving instead of leaving my palate insatiable.
I love food, and I am an eater. There are 3 eggs in my omelets, an entire avocado in my salads, bacon on my grass-fed burger, and everything is doused in olive oil. I love that I can be an example of someone who has overcome disordered eating by ACTUALLY eating - and in the high-fat high-protein manner to boot. I am healthy because I eat well and often, and because I work out with a healthy mindset. I respect myself for the choices I make, and because of that, other's respect it too. I love challenging my body in terms of exercise: how much further can I run? How much heavier can I lift? What new yoga poses can I learn? And, I love refueling my body properly to earn that respect. I'd rather eat the damn broccoli and have a bloated belly than to avoid a healthy choice based on image. It's taken me a long time to get to where I am today, and there are still days that I am a little too aware of my eating habits, but I am confident in the choices I am making for my health, and look forward to continuing on in the right direction.
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