own it

a big part of writing your thoughts down
for everyone to read is, well, just that.

they no longer belong to you
but are up for grabs for everyone to interpret.

do i mind? not at all.
do i have moments of sheer insecurity where i wish i hadn't wrote something? yes.
but then it passes.
and i accept that this is my story. and a beautiful one it is.
and if i share it, others may feel compelled to share their own.

and, so..

what is it about time?
it has this gift of clarifying, healing and acknowledging the past.
time, in and of itself, is a gift.

the other month someone i know seemingly fell off the earth
she was nowhere to be found
i suspected she was struggling.
and i was right.
the other day, she submerged.
alive. but just barely.

she had sunk back into a disordered eating pattern that knocked the wind out of her sail.
she did not have to tell me what was going on.
i simply knew.
i knew that story.
i had been there myself.

years ago, i became obsessed.
obsessed with restriction.

how much can i take away?
how many calories, how many pounds, how many sizes...

this time of my life, spanning a couple of months, is murky
i remember the feeling of hunger
right before bed..
the acute desire to eat
but it was after 7 p.m. and that was out of the question.

i remember being tired.
three miles every day.
not one.
not two and a half.
suck it up.
and run three miles every day.

exhaustion.

i remember feeling ribs.
i remember focusing on my thighs.
i remember thinking it was all okay because people thought it was in the name of health.
after all, i was eating well and exercising.
i was healthy.

it was not until i saw a friend i hadn't seen in a while and she asked

are you okay?

i, aloof, replied

yes, of course. why?

and she frowned ever so slightly..

you're just so thin..


that did not stop me.
of course it did not.
it was not until i injured myself.
i was constrained by injury.
and, my god, was it difficult.

the first evening, i had a melt down.
i needed to move.
now.
there was no question.
i needed to move.

cue sirens.
cue raised flags.

it took years to acknowledge the shit storm i found myself in.
it was not an act of health.
it was an act of obsession.
and i just barely made it through unscathed.

and, so

goodbye to weight scales
goodbye to discipline
goodbye to worthlessness
goodbye to size 4
goodbye to self-loathing

hello to freedom.

and, so

when she approached me, looked into my eyes and said

hello.

i knew exactly what that hello really meant.