Surprise!!

“Surprise!” I exclaimed as I hugged my best friend for the first time since May. It was her birthday, and I flew into Waco to celebrate. After she recovered from the initial shock, her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe you are here…in the flesh!”

The whole trip was really a surprise. I had no agenda, no schedule, no to-do list. I simply wanted to be with my Baylor friends. A year ago, this would not have been possible. If every minute was not planned, I would panic and break down. My detailed plans kept me productive; they proved that I was successful. The underlying truth was that my agenda prevented me from addressing my pain, discomfort, and brokenness. A side effect of that wall was not experiencing any joy from surprises.

On this journey of recovery, I am learning to embrace surprises. This trip, I was able to participate in an unexpected event: breakfast at midnight. In honor of Taylor Swift and feeling 22, we cooked up delicious breakfast food to share amongst our close friends. I was not going to miss out on this experience! In my eating disorder, I would have said I’m too tired and gone to bed to avoid eating crepes and bacon at midnight. But this weekend I was able to choose relationships over food. Crepes and bacon would not stop me from being present at my best friend’s breakfast at midnight party.

While most surprises from my time in Waco were amazing and wonderful, one hit me hard. Surprise! You are not recovered! This was the first time I had been back to school since May. I slept in the same bed, ate at the same table, and used the same bathroom as I did when I was in the depths of my eating disorder. I would be lying if I said that it was easy. Au contraire—it was freaking hard.

More than anything I would like to be recovered. I would like to live in Waco and finish my senior year with my best friends. I would like to have my eating disorder be a thing of the past. But that is not reality, and that is ok. It is ok that I struggled to finish my meals and that I cried as I thought about how much I ate out and how little activity I did this weekend. It is ok that I am not recovered just yet. Surprise! Recovery doesn’t happen over night!

From someone who has high expectations for herself, this surprise is hard to bear. It’s hard to know I am missing out on my senior year at Baylor, to see my eating disorder still effecting my friendships, to try to explain my struggle to my friends and know that they don’t fully understand.

But hard doesn’t mean I’ve failed—it means I’m still fighting. I am on this road of recovery, and I haven’t reached the end quite yet. I know there will come a time where I will be fully recovered, where my eating disorder will be behind me. However, I also know this: my eating disorder won’t be the only hard surprise I will face in life Surprise! Life is not perfect!

I don’t have to dread these future challenges because I know that my strength does not come within my broken self but through my omnipotent Savior. Life doesn’t have to be easy for me to be ok. I can be ok through God’s saving grace. These bumps in my life may come as a surprise to me, but they are no surprise to God. He is in control, which means I am free to experience wonderful surprises, and I can rely on God for strength to conquer the not so wonderful surprises too.

No Pain, No Gain. No Way!

Since the age of 9, I've lived and breathed gymnastics. I practiced 16 hours a week, went to gymnastics camps over the summer, and traveled for competitions most weekends. When I wasn't at the gym, I was choreographing beam routines and configuring my bars skills into a complete set. I followed the elite and college gymnasts in awe of their talent and dedication. (Rio Olympics T-203 days. Go USA!)

Being a gymnast, my body was in tip-top shape. I could do more pull ups than most boys my age, and I could hold a plank for hours. However, my focus wasn't on my appearance, but on my ability to do the sport I loved. My body was merely a piece of the puzzle that helped me experience the joy I received from gymnastics. 

As my eating disorder took over, this view of my body changed drastically. Exercise was no longer about finding joy through movement; it became the means to changing my figure. Instead of a fit body being the side effect of the sport I loved, it took center stage. Exercise turned into a way to punish myself after enjoying a meal out with my friends. It was a way to counterbalance every calorie I consumed. Movement numbed me of anxiety, stress, and emotional scarring. 

Now that I am in recovery, I am working every day to change my motivation behind exercise. Although I would love to report that my mindset around exercise is completely healthy again, I can say it is changing. When I went home for Christmas, I was able to do gymnastics. For the first time in 3 years, I didn't let my eating disorder self gloat over the calories I was burning. I didn't cling to the hope that my weight might drop from these 2 practices. Rather, my heart overflowed with love from seeing my old coaches and teammates, and my thoughts revolved around the happiness I felt from practicing a sport I love--a sport that my healthy body can do!

I hold onto moments like this to remind myself that life is better in recovery than in my eating disorder. These moments are what motivate me to speak honestly with my treatment team and get back on track when I find myself running to "make up" for a meal or to rid my mind of past pain. Flipping around at the gym, hiking to see the beauty of God's creation, ice staking with a best friend--these are my joys in my journey. These are the glimpses of hope that show me full recovery is possible. 

I thank God for the progress I have made. I thank God for this beautiful body that can take me on amazing adventures. I even thank God for the times I slip because they teach me that I cannot do this on my own; I need a Savior who loves me despite my faults and failures. As I daily take steps to living a recovered life, I rely on Christ alone. His strength continues to help me make healthy decisions about exercise, and His grace will always, always covers the times I use movement for my eating disorder.

Compare and Despair.

My eating disorder thrives off comparisons. That girl has skinner legs. Her abs are more defined. She has less food on her plate. She got a better grade on the test. She has more friends. With all these comparisons running rampant in my mind, no wonder I was miserable!

Under these seemingly superficial comparisons lies the belief that I am not ok as I am. When I walked through the doors at Vista, I immediately started to compare myself to the other girls. Quickly my eating disorder latched onto the idea that I didn’t deserve to be in treatment because others were “sicker” than me. The problem wasn’t simply that I thought I didn’t need to be in treatment, but rather I didn’t believe that I was worthy to receive help.

Just like every human is distinct, eating disorders don’t all look the same; they manifest differently in every individual. So maybe I didn’t have as much weight to gain as someone else or I didn’t have my eating disorder for as long as another, but I did need help. The core belief that I didn’t deserve proper nutrition and rest, yet alone love and acceptance needed to be uprooted and tossed to the curb.

Only through the power of the cross can I eradicate such unworthiness. Daily, I am replacing my fleeting eating disorder thoughts with the steadfast words of God. The Psalmist writes, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139: 13, 14). God wonderfully created me, and unconditionally loves me just as I am—my talents, quirks, and yes even my weaknesses. My Savior views me as so deserving that he carried my sins to the cross, not because of anything I have achieved, but simply because he deeply cares for me. Through God’s grace, I can rest in the truth that no grade, paycheck, workout, no not even the number on a scale can make me worthy; but rather, my worth is found in the death and resurrection of Jesus.

Many times, I don’t look towards Christ to find my self worth. On a daily basis, I struggle with evaluating others in order to feel content in myself. But that’s the beauty of the Gospel. My actions don’t dictate my worth—Christ’s saving grace does!

So when I turn to comparison, I remember the wise words of Theodore Roosevelt, “Comparison is the thief of joy”. I remind myself that comparing stifles the joy I have in the Lord. Instead, I cling to the certainty of Scripture that I am perfectly handcrafted and incredible beautiful.

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!

Surrender.

I am stubborn. I have been my whole life. When I was little my mom used to pray that I would make good decisions because whatever I decided, there would be no way of talking me out of it. When I started gymnastics I spent every free moment practicing my back handspring. Even after landing on the top of my head time after time, I would not give up. My mind was set on getting the skill, and nothing could hold me back.

My eating disorder self took full advantage of my obstinate character. I was determined to lose “x” amount of pounds. I was fixated on every calorie that went into my body and on every calorie that I burned off. For quite some time, my eating disorder was what I wanted, and no one could make me stop.

Even in my recovery, my stubbornness has come into play. I’ve been hardheaded and feisty, determined to get my way when I thought something was unfair. Most recently, my pertinacity has gotten me stuck in a rut. It has prevented me from moving forward because my goal has been to lose the “excess” weight. Just like when I was little girl, my heart was set on the goal, and that was that. No questions asked.

However, in my recovery, I am learning what is means to surrender. To stop resisting my meal plan, my treatment team, my recovery. To be humbled and realize my way isn’t working. To hand over the reins to those more knowledgeable. In surrendering, I open the doors to receive love and support. I acknowledge that I can’t do it on my own, and I need a Savior. Surrender leaves space to accept God’s precious gift of grace that comes from the death and resurrection of his Son.  

I am learning how to use my stubbornness for restoration instead of destruction. With my mind set on surrendering to the process, I can know that my fortitude cannot be shattered. Relying on Christ’s true strength instead of the façade of power from my stubbornness, I can recover. My heart is set on recovering through the power of God, and that is exactly what I am going to do.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; 

in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.

                                                                                                Proverbs 3:5-6

Compassion.

Recovery is messy. It is a process. It is not linear. There is no set timeline. Recovery. Is. Messy.

In my eating disorder recovery, I have good days and bad days. Moments when I choose recovery and moments when I simply don’t. Meals that I challenge my eating disorder voice and meals when I listen to the lies spinning in my head.

The most important thing I am learning in my recovery is to show myself compassion. Dr. Kristin Neff explains self compassion by saying, "Instead of mercilessly judging and criticizing yourself for various inadequacies or shortcomings, self-compassion means you are kind and understand when confronted with personal failings." Instead of judging myself for slipping or overwhelming my soul with shame, I choose compassion.

Compassion leaves room for growth. It gives space to understand how to do better next time. Without compassion, I am left in despair after each inevitable shortcoming. Such despair adds fuel to my eating disorder as it thrives off the lies that I am a failure, that I am not deserving, that I should be punished. However with compassion, I am able to continue moving forward.

I am able to forgive myself because I know my Savior has already forgiven me. Out of His unconditional love, God does not hold onto my mistakes. He sees me as so worthy that He sent His Son to die for me. It is through this love that I am able to show compassion to myself. In no way is this compassion validating my eating disorder behaviors, but rather it allows me to acknowledge my imperfections and remember that I need a Savior. So when I leave off a piece of my dinner or I exercise out of my plan, I know I am still loved. This self compassion that stems from God’s love motivates me to fight, to do the harder thing, to choose a recovered life. Although it is messy, compassion makes it possible.

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.