As many of you know, I have had a (now 21 year on and off) battle with bulimia.
"They" say it's not about food. They are right. It's not about food or weight or Vogue magazine or the portion sizes at Burger King. I'm not dismissing those things but that's not the root of this problem. At least not for me. For me the root of this problem is knowing myself.
I watched a show many, many years ago where a young woman was taken to an ice cream shop and asked what she wanted. Not what her sister would want, not what her mother thought she would want, not what she thought she should eat. What she wanted.
She did not know. And she cried.
At the time, I thought, "How could she not know her favorite kind of ice cream?". But at the time, I must have been swimming in a bucket of denial sauce because the thought of going into an ice cream shop and ordering a scoop of ice cream would have been ridiculous. What I wanted was utterly beside the point.
I still struggle with this concept of what I want. Every day. Almost every hour. Not just about food but about everything. What I want in life. What I want in my future. What I want to say, or not to say.
Michael asks me, because he knows about my ongoing battle, what I want. Sometimes I just take the easy road and choose something easy. Something that isn't going cause any attention to be paid to my answer.
This is not a way to live. At least not a good one.
Right now, I am trying, with some exceptions for financial stability, to remember to ask myself what I want. And actually do it.
I am only saying this today because it is what I know and it is what I want. It is a hard thing to say -- especially because I feel like it makes me terribly vulnerable. It also removes the mask of effortless perfection that I try desperately to hold up to everyone. I want to be the crusader against anti-intellectualism, the 24/7 smart chick who can build anything and answer any question. The woman who burdens no one. But that mask; it is killing me.
I am not nearly perfect, an IT girl, or a star. I am scared and tired and confused. But I want to be healthier. Both mentally and physically. I also want to write. I want to write books and articles and tomes.
So here I am, a little exposed. Writing it all down in the audacious hope of coming out on the other end better, healthier and more alive.
"They" say it's not about food. They are right. It's not about food or weight or Vogue magazine or the portion sizes at Burger King. I'm not dismissing those things but that's not the root of this problem. At least not for me. For me the root of this problem is knowing myself.
I watched a show many, many years ago where a young woman was taken to an ice cream shop and asked what she wanted. Not what her sister would want, not what her mother thought she would want, not what she thought she should eat. What she wanted.
She did not know. And she cried.
At the time, I thought, "How could she not know her favorite kind of ice cream?". But at the time, I must have been swimming in a bucket of denial sauce because the thought of going into an ice cream shop and ordering a scoop of ice cream would have been ridiculous. What I wanted was utterly beside the point.
I still struggle with this concept of what I want. Every day. Almost every hour. Not just about food but about everything. What I want in life. What I want in my future. What I want to say, or not to say.
Michael asks me, because he knows about my ongoing battle, what I want. Sometimes I just take the easy road and choose something easy. Something that isn't going cause any attention to be paid to my answer.
This is not a way to live. At least not a good one.
Right now, I am trying, with some exceptions for financial stability, to remember to ask myself what I want. And actually do it.
I am only saying this today because it is what I know and it is what I want. It is a hard thing to say -- especially because I feel like it makes me terribly vulnerable. It also removes the mask of effortless perfection that I try desperately to hold up to everyone. I want to be the crusader against anti-intellectualism, the 24/7 smart chick who can build anything and answer any question. The woman who burdens no one. But that mask; it is killing me.
I am not nearly perfect, an IT girl, or a star. I am scared and tired and confused. But I want to be healthier. Both mentally and physically. I also want to write. I want to write books and articles and tomes.
So here I am, a little exposed. Writing it all down in the audacious hope of coming out on the other end better, healthier and more alive.
Labels: Body Electric
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The story of Michael and me.
13 Comments:
Keep saying it.
Keep wanting it.
Keep writing.
Remember to breathe and be in the moment. Your imperfections are part of the absolutely perfect you.
hugs
and I want to be here with the vulnerable you behind the mask. I think you're great. really. this you.
it takes so much silence for me to hear my own voice about what I want sometimes, and silence is a luxury many of us didn't get enough of. I hope to be helpful to you in finding the peace you need to keep hearing and honoring this voice.
love
ae
You're doing a great thing. It is so, so terrifying to move toward what we want. I am doing the same, and it is hard and scary, but exhilarating. And you know you have a thousand loving friends backing you.
I know you don't always believe it, but you are a beautiful, smart and wonderful woman. Not one of us is perfect, and I think it's when we do share our imperfections that we can really know and appreciate one another. I hope that you continue to become more comfortable acknowledging your wants and desires. You are certainly entitled to them.
Thank you. :)
I love ae's comment. It's so true.
Go get 'em, girl.
Congratulations! That was hard to write. Saying it outload is what turns a dream into a goal. Keep saying it, make sure the people around you keep hearing it. You are on your way!
You are amazing. I'm so glad you wrote this.
I don't know you, but I know that any one who has the strength to write that is very strong indeed. Thanks for sharing, it helps many of us. And good luck.
It can be horribly hard to know what you want.
And knowing that you might not be able to get whay you want... but just being able to accept that you want it, also very hard.
Happy thoughts I send to you!
You know what you want. You can identify it. You can verbalize it, recognize it. You can strive toward it and realize when you achieve it. Baby, being able to do all that puts me in awe of you.
I am completely incapable of writing a good thoughtful comment. But I needed to comment because I was struck by how the reasons for this are really encapsulated in your post. Working too hard to keep that mask in place. Filling my time with bits and pieces to make sure that I don't have to think about how difficult it really is to keep it up. Thanks for your thought-provoking posts.
I think it is one of the hardest things in the world, to know what one wants. Just realizing that is a good deal of the way there.
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