The Past. The Present. The Future.

When I left eating disorder treatment, I knew I wanted to be a therapist. At first, I was ashamed to share this desire with anyone. Even though I knew the journey to become a surgeon (my original plan) was no longer in line with the balanced life in which I am committed to live, part of me was scared to let go because I had attached so much of my worth to that goal. Another part of me feared judgement. I viewed becoming a therapist as cliché, and I worried that people would think that I merely want to be a therapist for my own personal gain – to figure out my own issues or to deny my own struggles by focusing on other people. However, as a gained self-confidence and let go of what other people think, I began embracing my story and my desire to become a therapist.

Currently I am applying to social work and clinical psychology (MFT) graduate programs. Writing my personal statements has encouraged me to reflect on the past, evaluate the present, and plan for the future. I want to share short excerpts of my personal statement with you because I believe it fully integrates how the past and present come together to influence my decision to become a therapist. Enjoy!

From the time I could talk, I always said I was going to be a doctor, a pediatric surgeon to be precise. At Baylor, I dove head first into intense pre-medical coursework and quickly got involved in every campus organization and volunteer opportunity I could get my hands on to appear the best candidate for medical school. From the outside looking in, I was the ideal candidate. I maintained straight A’s, held leadership positions in campus clubs, volunteered at a local hospital, and actively participated in my sorority. It seemed like I had it all together. However, on the inside, I was miserable. The pressure to present as perfect to the world morphed into an eating disorder that was literally killing me. Before I knew it, I had abandoned everything I value for a secret life riddled with lies stemming from the shame that I could not meet the absurdly high expectations I set for myself.

Coming to the realization that this lifestyle was unfulfilling, not to mention unsustainable, I decided to take a leap of faith and admitted myself to eating disorder treatment. As I began forming my new identity as a woman of integrity, strength, and compassion, I came to realize that I want to be a therapist and a source of hope for women struggling to fight the prejudices that stand against them.

… As a future therapist, I seek to advocate for and promote social justice. More specifically, I want to spark change in the way society views and treats women, and I believe that change starts with how women view and treat themselves. Years ago, I entered into an abusive relationship. It was during that toxic relationship that I first internalized the voice that told me I was worthless and should be ashamed of being a woman. For years, I remained silent because I believed I deserved the pain he caused me. Being an abuse survivor, it is my hope that I can partner with teens and young women who feel similar shame around their bodies and gender identity in order to help them discover their true worth in the world.

… I am passionate about working with teens because it is a such critical time for making important life decisions and identity formation. Adults often discredit teenage girl’s thoughts, feelings, and struggles. I aspire to advocate for young women’s wishes and needs, believing in them so they can believe in themselves. When I was experiencing so much pain because of my abusive relationship, I wish I had felt comfortable enough to confide in someone who would have advocated for my needs. I hope to be that person for young women in the future.

… Taking pride in my story instead of hiding in the disgrace of my so-called “failures”, I now live with dignity and integrity. I respect the progress I have made and hold space for the challenges I have yet to conquer, allowing for future growth. As a therapist, I will treat my clients with the same dignity and respect to inspire them to overcome the obstacles that stand in the path of realizing their dreams and aspirations.  

I am so excited to take the next step in my journey to become a therapist, and I can’t wait until my dreams become my reality!

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. 

Bigger Jeans. Bigger Life.

Bigger Jeans. Bigger Life.

That’s what a wise therapist told me when I was in residential treatment. And I hated it. I hated the concept that I couldn’t have a good body and a good life. I hated someone telling me that I couldn’t have a satisfying life in my eating disorder. I sure didn’t want bigger jeans, but I did want a bigger life, which lead me to constantly question:

Why can’t I be skinny and have a full life?

Just to give you a little inside look into my thoughts, I’d like to take a moment to explain how my eating disorder self manipulates…pretty much anything. Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) is based off the principle that two things can be true at the same time. For example, I can be anxious about my lunch, AND I can eat it anyway. It’s a great tactic that can empower me to acknowledge my feelings and challenge my eating disorder at the same time. However, my eating disorder self has exploited this theory, convincing me that I can keep the parts of my eating disorder that makes me feel safe AND get my life back.

The voice says, “They tell you in therapy that you can hold two things to be true at the same time. With that logic you CAN have the perfect body AND be free from the destruction of your eating disorder.”

For quite some time, these manipulative lies are what kept me from surrendering to the “bigger jeans, bigger life” attitude. Nevertheless, with lots of help from therapy sessions, groups, and most importantly God's grace, I slowly came to accept this outlook. And now, I am here to say that it couldn’t be more true.

Being 3 days out of eating disorder treatment, I have taken time to reflect on these last 7 months. The realization I have come to is that I am finally getting my life back. With my bigger jeans, I can enjoy life. I can enjoy ice cream out with my friends. I can enjoy conversations around the dinner table. I can enjoy a morning stroll by the ocean. In my eating disorder, I couldn’t enjoy any of those events because I was only half present. The other half of me was busy calculating calories, pushing my food around, counting my steps, making up workouts to burn off the food.

But beyond life events around food and exercise, I can simply live. I can laugh with my coworkers. I can comfort a friend in need. I can engage in intellectual discussions. I can relax with a crossword. I can simply live.

I want to be connected and think beyond food and exercise. But if I turn ever so slightly to my eating disorder, my vision becomes hazy. I overlook my values, my beliefs, the core that makes me who I am because my eating disorder tells me that all will be ok if I just to have the perfect body. So, in answer to my previous question, I can’t be skinny and live a full life because my soul self, the woman I truly am, is lost in my eating disorder.

You might say that I have my life back because I am out of treatment, have a job, and am enrolled in classes. These facts are true, but for me, getting my life back is more than the tangible; it is experiencing each moment of life, fully participating in the steps along my journey. I know that as I continue in recovery, my life will grow in ways beyond what I can even imagine. So here’s to embracing bigger jeans for a bigger life!

Just Being.

I'm so thankful for mornings like this! Today, sitting at Starbucks with a coffee and a journal is my idea of the perfect Sunday morning. But for a long time, this was not the case. In my eating disorder, I did not allow myself to sit, to be "unproductive", even for a moment. My eating disorder was not just about what I ate or how much I weighed. No, it was so much more. It was a way cope with feelings of shame, unworthiness, failure, and hopelessness.

    Having a break in the day meant feeling these emotions, emotions that were simply too much for me to bear. So instead, I kept busy. My life was a juggling act gone wrong.  At the time, I wasn't even aware of why I couldn't just "be". I thought I was doing the college thing right. Finding the perfect balance. Being the well rounded student. I made straight A's, became an avid crossfitter, joined a sorority, lead a campus ministry. So why was I still so miserable and depressed? From the outside, it seemed as if I had it all together, but on the inside I was completely unraveled.

    As I continue in my recovery, I realize that no workout, no organization, no major, no job can fill the emptiness I felt so deeply, and still feel on occasion today. I must constantly remind myself that it is only through God's unconditional love that I can begin to acknowledge the past, embrace the present, and hope for the future. So as I sit here fully present in this moment, I thank God for my journey and the ability to relax on a Sunday morning, not because of anything I have done, but solely because of His loving grace. With His peace that passes all understanding can I finally be with myself. Without doing. Just Being.