International Women's Day Post.

Dear Beautiful Genevieve,

From the moment I heard your mom was pregnant, I loved you. When you were born I loved you even more. And when I held you in my arms, my love for you grew even deeper. I want you to know that you are always loved. You are loved just because you exist. No achievement, failure, beauty, scar—no nothing – will ever change my love for you. I hope you never go a day without knowing how deeply you are loved.

You are beautiful. I wait with anticipation for every picture and video your mom sends me. You are gorgeous and never let someone convince you otherwise. Beyond your external beauty, you have a beautiful soul. I see it in your mischievous grin. I see it in how to care for Pickles. I see it in your creative spark and your adventurous spirit. These qualities will grow with you. Hold them close.

There will be days when you don’t feel beautiful, but know in your heart, deeper than that fleeting feeling, that you are in fact beautiful. There will be people who won’t see your beauty. Don’t listen to their hurtful words. Come back to your core and to the people who will always love you to reconnect to the beauty you will always have.  

As you grow up, I want to remind you that life is a journey. You have the power to choose your path. You will make mistakes. They are not bad—you will learn so much about yourself from these mistakes. What you like and what you don’t like, what you value and what you don’t value, what you want to pursue and what you don’t want to pursue. Embrace the imperfection of life. It seems scary I know, but resting in the imperfection bring abounding peace.

It’s tough growing up in today’s society. Women are pressured to look, act, dress, present themselves in a certain light. The world wants to tell you that you are only worthy if you have a certain body and appear perfect. This portrayal is a façade. Take it from me who has experienced this firsthand—that life is miserable. Being your authentic self is the only true way to experience joy in life. Striving for that toner body or that perfect 100% or that ideal guy causes such destruction. Instead, I encourage you to pursue your dreams and not let any person, ideal, or standard stop you from loving the life you live!

I want to leave you with one last piece of wisdom: show compassion to others and especially yourself! In each moment know you are doing the best you can and allow that grace to flow throughout your soul. Be kind to your body as it is the vessel that connects your inner being to the world around you. Have faith that your hard work leads to something miraculous.

You inspire me to be fearlessly authentic every day. You motivate me to want to be recovered so that I can be a positive example of a young empowered woman for you. Thank you for being your absolutely precious self. You have more impact on the world than you can possibly know.

My deepest love,

Margaret Hartmann

Grieving

They say in order to feel the good, you have to be willing to feel the bad. Living in recovery, I’ve experienced the full range of emotions. From total serenity when watching Harry Potter on a night in to complete sadness when friends move away. From blissful excitement at Disneyland to overwhelming stress from schoolwork. Even during the times when I’ve wanted to numb out the hard emotions or punish myself because I hear the nagging voice telling me I do not deserve happiness, I’ve let myself feel. I’ve discovered that riding the wave of emotion is loads more freeing then bottling them up and anxiously praying the flood gates don’t break.

Lately, I’ve been facing a whole new emotion: grief. While no one is “ready” to grieve, the past two years of feeling emotions had led to me to cope with this emotion in a healthy way.

            In the past few months, three people in my life have passed away. The pain that accompanies death—especially unexpected and tragic death—is too much to bear alone. My first inclination is to isolate, shut down, and sleep. But instead, I’ve reached out for support. I have wept with my friends and family who are going through the grieving process too. Leaning on each other, we share each other’s pain. I have been vulnerable with my close friends who are not presently grieving, but who can come along side me to comfort me and take care of me. Not to discount the excruciating pain, but by grieving with people, the anguish is no longer too much to bear. There’s a unifying factor, a uniting sense of love, when I allow myself to rely on others for the strength to heal.

            While each day is a rollercoaster of emotions as I grieve, I choose to ride it. I let the sadness hit me in the middle of class. I allow myself to rest when I planned on exercising because grieving is exhausting. And I continue to eat even when I lose my appetite, because I know that living in recovery is the only way to love and to allow others to love me through this grieving process.

In loving memory of Bianca Red Arrow, Fisher Hartmann, and Coach Ronnie

1 Corinthians 13

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.