Easy as ABC

For the first time in over a year, I am back in school. I still bleed green and gold, but I am finding a new home at Loyola Marymount. This time around, I am committing to doing things differently—to lean on love not perfection.

As soon I enter the classroom, I can hear the perfectionism gears start to churn. “my notes must be error-free, my answers must always be right, I cannot mess up.” But that thinking is the old me. The environment brings out my perfectionistic tendencies, but now I am able to fight back. I remind myself that perfection is simply a façade—a way for me to feel in control when really I am scared of the uncertainty. It’s easier for me to hit the books and stress out over my performance instead of addressing the underlying fears. So rather than share about my “challenging coursework”, I choose to open up about the real things that are hard about being back in school.

It’s lonely. I only know a handful of students, and some days I feel invisible. As a commuter student working 2 jobs, it is hard to devote time to meeting people at school. But I know it is highly important because my eating disorder thrives in loneliness. Loneliness turns into unworthiness which either leads to a) unhealthy behaviors that give me a sense of accomplishment or b) destructive behaviors that result in punishment for being not good enough. Siding with my healthy self instead of my eating disorder self means combating loneliness with love. Self-love through acknowledging my accomplishments and participating in self-care. Love from my Savior who accepts me with all my faults. Love from my amazing friends who listen and laugh with me. And love from new friends I’ll make as I become more involved at LMU. These relationships are what remind me that I am enough just as I am and that I don’t deserve to be nasty to myself.

It’s scary. Starting back at school, which was a huge component of my eating disorder, makes me fearful that I am going to get sick again. I’m scared that I’m going to set unattainable expectations and place unnecessary pressure on myself. Will the demands of school lead me back into my depression? Will I turn to my eating disorder to cope with the stress of schoolwork? Am I capable of doing this? The great thing about recovering in a community is that I have too many people that care about me to let me fall back into the traps of my eating disorder. I don’t need to future trip because I know I have support that will keep me healthy. All I need to do is be honest, letting those around me help when I am struggling. I am capable of this!

The Jackson Five got it right—college might not be as easy as ABC, but love is, and that is what I need in order to do school differently.

My New Family.

“Do you have any friends?” the guy next to me asked during the greeting time at church. We both laughed because the question came across all wrong. Of course he meant to ask if I was finding people in LA since I’m semi-new to the area. But it made me think—do I have friends here???

When I stepped off the plane on June 3^rd, I didn’t know a soul in LA. Even my brother who normally lives in Malibu was in Philly for the summer. I was completely alone, yet it didn’t feel much different from my daily life. I had friends at school and back home, but very few of them knew the “ugly” me. 

They only knew my “pretty” side: the cute bubbly Georgia peach. They saw me as a high achieving student, a dedicated gymnast and crossfitter, a fun sorority girl, and a passionate RUF leader. And the select few I let in, only saw glimpses of my reality that I quickly minimized. Although I was all those things, there was a whole secret life I was living, which was the farthest thing from pretty. I was ashamed of my eating disorder and did everything possible to hide it.

But in treatment, I couldn’t hide anymore. As hard as I tried—I even told my therapist my life was none of her business (sorry, Ally)—I no longer could wrap my life in a pretty bow. Not within the doors of Monte Nido. Slowly but surely, I allowed myself to be vulnerable. It is the hardest, scariest thing for me to do. Still. But because of this vulnerability, I have formed a family. I am no longer alone.

I have therapists who listen to how hard it is, who challenge my eating disorder voice, who help me see new perspectives. I have friends who join along side me in recovery. They hold me as tears stream down my face while we sit and talk on the beach. They take me to get donuts when I’ve planned to never eat again. They remind me why I am doing this in the first place. And my friends see me even when I have lost sight of who I am outside my eating disorder.

This process is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and yet I know I have a family cheering me on. My parents and siblings, my friends from all phases of life, my therapists, and I’m sure many more. So even though it’s hard, at least I’m not doing this alone anymore.

This family reminds me how blessed I am. They point me towards the love of God and display His grace every day. Reminding me I am worthy through Christ, my family lifts me up from the depth of my raging eating disorder. I never have to be alone again.

So in response to the guy sitting next to me in church, I don’t just have friends, I have a whole family.