I stood behind that rackety stage-door, trying not to scream or cry or run away. My theater teacher and vocal/breathing coach extraordinaire had told me to do my lines over, again. Some of us in my advanced theater class were struggling to project our voices across the auditorium. We had decided to do the entire production without mics, so we had to dig deep inside ourselves and find that voice that could not only fill a room with sound, but with our soul.
Frustration set in because I thought I was projecting enough--what wasn’t loud enough was my soul. My teacher told me to do my lines again, but this time I had to sing them. Make up my own melody.
Never have I felt more vulnerable, more exposed. I love singing. When I sing I feel the most like me and I can share my heart. But this. This was terrifying--because all my peers were watching, no notes to lead my way. Just me trying to sing my lines in whatever notes decided to come out of my mouth.
I cried afterward.
But this experience taught me the value of sharing your vulnerabilities. I came out stronger, my lines were better. I had presence. But more than that, it was a gift. It was a gift to me to show me what I was capable of. It’s given me courage to say what I want to say and be myself in the face of critics. It gave my peers the ability to let go on stage, and hopefully in life too.
I didn’t share that story just for the sake of it. I have a bigger story to tell. And it will take more than one post on this here blog-that-I-haven’t-posted-on-in-almost-three-years-oops. But it’s a story that needs to be told.
So here’s the short version, with details to come in later posts:
It’s been almost a year since I started recovery for an eating disorder. Some people call it Anorexia. I hesitate to give a diagnosis because there’s all sorts of stigmas that go along with it. I always thought that people with anorexia never ate, ever. Ever, ever. So imagine my surprise when my nutritionist said I was eating the amount of food to sustain a comatose person, even though I was having three “meals” a day. Also, everyone’s experience with an eating disorder is different. I actually have a lot of thoughts about labeling something that’s wrong with you, but we can talk about that another time. I digress.
Growing up I struggled with body image--even when I was a skinny little ballerina. I started my period and I quickly became a woman and I was like WAT. I didn’t like it. Life threw it’s lemons and I made a lot of figurative lemon bars and ate them (aka emotionally eating), which led to gaining weight. Now, I was never overweight. But I was out of shape and lethargic.
When I was 19 I left on a mission to South Carolina. Daaaaang, missions are hard! So, hi, food. Comfort me. But I noticed how all this food made me feel. I couldn’t exert my body like I wanted to. I was so full of fried chicken and cake it was hard to focus while teaching lessons. I had to change something. So I started restricting my eating. I became more and more obsessed with what I ate and how I looked. I just spiraled downward, deeper and deeper. I came home from my mission 18 months later, excited to have more control over my eating. I got more obsessed, and more depressed.
One day I noticed how unhealthy my thoughts were about my body and food. That’s all I ever thought about. I prayed for help. A friend posted on Facebook about how the Atonement of Jesus Christ helped her through her own battle with anorexia years before. I thought I would never tell anyone, but this post hit me. I realized I had a problem and I started getting help.
This has been the hardest journey of my life--and I have been wont to travel on difficult roads. I’m sure you have as well. But this is a journey that I can truly say I would not give away or undo. I have become closer to my Father in Heaven, I have learned how to recognize the voice of Satan and fight it, I have learned how to love others more deeply, and I have learned how to love myself. For me.
So I hope the subject doesn’t scare you. And if it does right now, I hope you stay tuned. Because a simple Facebook post saved me. I want to at least raise awareness and share what I have learned, and give this gift of vulnerability.
