I had an Eating Disorder, then I Received a Rose

It’s 2015 and I am 30 years old. I am 5’ 8’’ wearing shoes and I weigh 131 lbs. I am a size 2 at Banana Republic and a size 6 at Lululemon. In 2004, I was 18 going on 19 years old. My height was the same as today. I weighed as little as 110 lbs and tested at 9.9% body fat. I was a size 0 or extra small—a size 6 would have been extremely baggy. I was entering my first season as a Division I collegiate soccer player and I had an eating disorder.

Why it started?

It began with a speech from a high school track coach discussing leaning up for endurance sports. I internalized this talk as “time to cut out the fat from my diet.”  Skipping my favorite ice cream in the world, Greaters, turned into eliminating oils, fatty meats, peanut butter and cheese from my diet. At that point,I thought dietary fat would literally make me fat and anything containing what I considered too much fat would give me anxiety. Not too many people knew what was going on until I started dropping the weight.

My parents saw me at my first pre-season soccer game and took me home, ASAP. My heart rate lying down was 47 and 60 seconds later I stood up and my heart rate jumped to 88. According to my doctor, my heart had atrophied (my heart had to work too hard just standing) and I was officially told to stop playing soccer until I could get up to 120 lbs. I was frail, weak and completely unhealthy. I was losing my hair and I was always freezing. My energy levels went up and down. I started seeing two different Dietitians and I had weekly weigh-ins with a doctor on campus. I would drink 2 bottles of water before weigh-ins because I knew I hadn’t done what I was told to do. I knew I didn’t look good, but I wasn’t mentally strong enough to comply with what was necessary for my health. Of course I was seeing a counselor on a regular basis, but something wasn’t clicking. I felt completely out of control, yet I still controlled everything.

How I gained back control.

My teammates were amazing. They kept me strong and full of hope. They invited me to church and I went. They invited me to Athletes in Action, a campus ministry targeting collegiate athletes, and I joined them.  At this point in my life, any genuine support felt amazing. Later on in the school year, I signed up for a summer camp conducted by Athletes in Action that would change my life forever. One of the seminars was a female-only seminar. I walked into the room and everyone received a red rose with the same bible verse, “Let the King be enthralled by your beauty; Honor Him for He is your Lord.” Psalm 45:11.

Boom. This struck a chord with me. It felt like a stack of bricks being lifted off my chest and I finally had a taste of what recovery could feel like—a feeling of freedom with the loss of shame and guilt. I learned a lot in the seminar and since then I have slowly grown to better understand and appreciate that verse. I had to give it all to God and lay down my struggles. I was able to replace my eating disorder with a passion for nutrition and helping those that battle with their weight.

Guess what I continue to learn….no one… I mean NO ONE should define themselves by their weight.

No one is defined by their sport. No one is defined by being a regionals contender or being the best athlete in the gym. No one is defined by an idealistic family of two kids, a perfect house and perfect job. It goes much deeper than that and it comes from a place much higher yet 100% by your side when you don’t even realize it. The rose was more than a rose. It was a symbol that I was enough. It was a symbol of God’s perfect love.

During the holidays, it's easy to get wrapped up into what the next year will bring.  New Year’s resolutions are made and we often strive for something that is either unrealistic or we hope for something within an unrealistic time frame. Instead of figuring out how much weight you want to lose in January or how much you want to squat by March, ask yourself what defines you and how will you let that flow through your life. I realize this is a very open and honest blog post, but I felt it was necessary during this time of the year. Tis the season for lots of roses.

Letting Go

As many of you already know, I have been patiently waiting for my house in Columbia, SC to sell so my children and I can get our own place on the island. At least, I thought I was being patient. 

I think it's important to know that my house is adorable -- any buyer would be lucky to own it, thus I was certain it would sell in a matter of weeks. I clung to this dysfunctional optimism despite many negative reassurances from anyone and everyone that the idea of my house selling quickly was laughable. Okay, they didn't come right out and laugh, but their knowing grins were just as irritating.

My house remained on the market month after month and my frustration grew, mostly because I couldn't reconcile my expectations with the reality. My house was supposed to sell quickly. I was supposed to get close to the asking price. None of that was happening and the kids and I are still living with my parents.

In my "Letting Go" lecture last week I heard myself saying that "An expectation is a premeditated resentment." Soon after, I realized that my expectations about when and how my house should sell were creating just such resentments. Each month that my house remained on the market my resentments grew.

The notion that expectations are future resentments is applicable to so many aspects of life. How often do we harbor resentments because people don't do or behave just as we expect? How often do we allow resentments or frustrations from vacations or events that didn't go exactly as we planned to steal all possible enjoyment?  Expectations are often elusive attempts at control. Not until we let go of our need for control can we allow the universe to do its magic which results in a wonderful byproduct, serenity.

Letting go is part of the realization that we can’t control others, and to some extent, outcomes. Letting go is the belief that things are exactly how they should be regardless of whether or not it’s what we wanted. Don’t get me wrong, I realize that last sentence sounds a little too simple and that letting go is not a passive endeavor but rather an active choice – one that can be very difficult to make. However, what a great choice…cling to your rigid expectations and live in caustic resentment or give up your expectations and see where life takes you with fascination and curiosity?

With this reminder, I visited my home in Columbia and had my own little letting go ceremony. I reflected on many joyous memories the house has afforded me through the years -- Gabrielle grinning from ear to ear with outstretched arms for me to lift her from her crib; Delany laughing hysterically when I sang the lollipop song; Raucous parties with dear friends, and many more. I was filled with gratitude which transformed my expectations and resulting resentment into a desire for the house to make it into the hands of just the right family, no matter how long that took.

And guess what happened...the universe did its magic two weeks later. My house is under contract! Ah, the joy of letting go.