Your Strengths

Difference: A Quick Lesson

If you have 3 minutes, give this a listen. "Difference" is a topic so often discussed, but we forget about some things that truly enhance its meaning. Let's go!

You're Invited to a Celebration!

Need a pick-me-up? This quick, bonus video might be just the thing for today:

Thanksgiving Message from Arielle

If today is hard for you, the message below is for you. It's my annual Thanksgiving message, and regardless of whether you're an American who celebrates this holiday or are living elsewhere, the message is still relevant. Take care of yourself, be kind to yourself, and celebrate how far you have come today. It's all about gratitude.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Coping with Disaster and Death While Recovering from an Eating Disorder

This week's video is an important one if you have ever struggled (or are struggling) with loss of any kind. The second half of the video is key.

Arielle's Word of the Day #14: LOVE

Oh, how fitting! My Wednesday video from yesterday was entitled: Self-Soothing Techniques and Rewards. And I want to post it here for today's word: LOVE. Because more than anything, we need to love ourselves. We need feel valued and appreciated. And WE CAN DO IT FOR OURSELVES. We don't have to rely on other people.

Ready? Go!

Day #26: ED Activist/Sufferer/Survivor Book Review

I'm going to completely blow you away with my book choice today.

I have never been one to throw myself into books by eating disorder activists, sufferers, or survivors. I have read my fair share, back in the days when I was struggling with my own eating disorder and I have written my fair share of self-help stuff as well. I remember playing the comparison game with certain books I read back in the day - mentally trying to assess if I was sicker than the person in the book or not. For me, it was difficult not to compare, not to judge myself. A lot of books I read, though they were written with heart and good intentions, still glamorized the disease. Like, "things were THIS bad" and the focus was so much more on the illness than the GETTING OUT OF IT.

That's why my blog is the way it is. It's to give tools and resources and advice and motivation for the getting OUT. The NOW. Not where I've been or how bad it was. That only serves a purpose for about 5 minutes. And then (I feel) it's important to move on. Because chances are, if you're reading self-help, you already KNOW how bad it is. You're living it. Or you have lived it.

It's that "message from the other side" that is so under-represented in books. I think it's important to show that real resilience and perseverance exist ... and that real recovery exists too. There are a handful of books that have shown this "other side"... but strangely, there is one book that has spoken to me on a level of resiliency, strength, and human spirit and it was NOT written by an eating disorder survivor.

The book is entitled All But My Life and it was written by a truly inspiring woman named Gerda Weissmann Klein. It's a true story, written about Gerda's experience during WWII and the Holocaust. (Don't write it off as the same as other books on the Holocaust you may have read. PLEASE.) She is a Holocaust survivor, not an eating disorder survivor - and I won't for one second try to insinuate that the two are the same. Surviving horrible atrocities and traumas inflicted upon you and others you love is different from surviving an eating disorder. ...BUT not wholly different. How many eating disorder survivors have survived traumas? How many have been inflicted with this horrible disease, not by choice, but by an uncontrollable turn of events, or by an inescapable mental health diagnosis? At some point, there is a choice to be made in recovery from an eating disorder... and if we're talking about surviving the Holocaust, well, that choice may be taken from you. And the magnitude of something as terrible as genocide is just not on the same spectrum as other traumas. So yes, these two things are very, very different. But similar enough that I KNOW the book will speak to your heart if you just pick it up and read it.

The book title refers to the fact that the infamous "they" had taken everything from Gerda... ALL BUT HER LIFE. And her mission became one of brutal simplicity: to survive. By surviving she could keep the one thing they had not yet taken. And how she did this is ASTOUNDING. I do not use the word astounding lightly.

There is so much I want to tell you about this book, but I don't want to ruin for you the beauty of the story. So read it for yourself. It's not long and you won't regret it. (You can find it for $10.85 or less right here on Amazon.com and let me tell you, EVERYWHERE this book is reviewed it gets no less than 5 stars.)

I came across this book at age 19. I will never forget it. It's part of the reason I think positivity and hope have such a place in my work and in my lifestyle. THIS WOMAN, mistreated, traumatized, and dying in more than one horrific concentration camp, organized her friends to PUT ON PLAYS in their barracks... to keep them sane, to spread the tiny drop of joy she knew still existed because she was still ALIVE, to give hope. And you know what? She wasn't even really quite a woman yet. She was 15...16...17...

This is Gerda. She's 88 and still alive. And if you read her book, All But My Life, you'll never forget her and her spirit. And it might just teach you a thing or two about surviving yourself. Because if SHE can do it, you totally can too.

 

By the way, she's more than just an author (as cool as being an author is!). She's also a humanitarian, a historian, and an inspirational speaker. According to Wikipedia, "her powerful message of hope, inspiration, love and humanity" has captivated people worldwide. That is obvious to me. She's a human rights activist, super charitable lady, and also won an Academy Award AND an Emmy for the documentary based on her book and her life.

This is a President Obama awarding her the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2010.

So, I'll end this unorthodox post with 5 words:

SPIRIT
HOPE
INSPIRATION
FREEDOM
GERDA

Check it out.

Day #22: Keep YOU, Kick ED!

I'm lucky enough to be able to say that my identity without my eating disorder is a strong one. I've left my eating disorder behind. My blog is not about my journey through recovery, because I'm already free. It's about helping others by sharing what I've learned and spreading positivity and hope.

So today, I'm tweaking my response to the blogger prompt of:

Did you ever feel you couldn’t tell where you ended and your ED started? Many people find it difficult to fathom their identity separate from their eating disorder. Who are you? What makes you – you? How do you tell the difference between the eating disorder and you? Why is it important to find you identity and recognise it as being separate from your eating disorder?

and instead I'm going to share with you how YOU can be more than your eating disorder - because you're fabulous! And because I already know what makes me ME! (And you do too, if you've read my blogs these past 5 years.)

I think wondering how to fill the gap your eating disorder previously filled is very common. But remember—only you can answer the question of what to do next.

And there is so much waiting for you. There are a thousand possibilities at your fingertips, from the simple every day things to the more complex life goals. You just have to ask yourself one question.

What do you want to do?

It’s an open question with many possible answers…and that’s the beauty of it.

What's in your head and your heart? What are your passions? What makes you feel good?

Do you want to make new friends? Do you want to go back to school? Do you want to get out in the job world? Do you want to pursue a dream you’ve often had in the back of your mind? Do you want to have a family? Do you want to travel?

Now comes the obvious thought: we can’t always do what we want to do. Finances get in the way. Time can be an issue. A lot of things can prevent us from doing what we want to do. BUT—and this is a big but—you never let things be an issue when finding a way to fit your eating disorder into your daily life, did you?

Granted, money doesn’t grow on trees and lots of things that are very important take up our time. Understandable. Valid. But if you really want something, you can achieve it. And don’t let anything stop you.

Most importantly, think about what would make you happy. Come up with three things.

Then find a way to incorporate them into your life. Fill that gap. There’s no charge for that kind of fill-up.

Best of luck! - and to help inspire you, I made you a vision board! Yes, I did! I made YOU a vision board! Check it out:

Day #21: Healers with Heart

Since I essentially thanked my best friend, Libes, for her part in my past recovery from an eating disorder, today I'd like to thank my mom.

 

[2011. Isn't she lovely?]

She's a healer and caregiver in her own rite, besides being a mother. She's a registered nurse who worked on the psychiatric unit of a hospital for a a few years, then on the mother/baby unit of a hospital for several more years, then decided to become a certified school nurse. Now, she gets to enjoy her summers off and her weekends to herself. She is a woman of many talents; she sews, she paints, she collects sea glass, and is addicted to coffee.

In addition to the obviously healing role she has filled as a nurse for 3 decades, she was a caregiver to her elderly aunt (my great-aunt) for a large chunk of my childhood, and a caregiver to her father (my Grampy) who passed away in 2007. And of course, she raised my younger brother and me.

She's strong, she's capable, and she has a big heart.

She gives all of us (her best friend, my husband, my sister-in-law, my brother, me) gifts on HER birthday. She delights in our presence. Being a mom is priority for her.

But she's so much more.

I have always been close to my mother, so I'm sure when I was struggling with my eating disorder she was at a loss. She found me the best eating disorder specialist. She intervened when she thought I could use the push and stepped back when she thought I needed space. She has always supported me - through childhood ambitions, school undertakings, family troubles, my eating disorder, my marriage, my post-graduate education, my infertility problems. She spent her time, her energy, her money.

So many people would give their right arm for a mom like mine. I am so lucky.

She is one of the most non-judgmental people I know.

She is silly, but she is so smart.

She is funny, but she is honest.

She is my mom, but she is more than my mom. She's my consistent supporter, my friend, my cheerer-upper, my partner in crime (not literally of course!), my biggest fan.

Thanks, Mom.

[2011.]

Day #19: Write a Love Life Limerick

I'm assuming today's prompt is about loving life and not your actual love life, because that doesn't seem as cohesive with eating disorder recovery. :-) Regardless, I'm a writer, so once I start writing limericks, I just can't stop!

Here are two of the several of wrote, because I have 17,304 things to do today, all of which fall under the category of living and loving life! :-)

I hope you can pocket these and take them with you when you need a pick-me-up. They're encouraging and true!

Love Life Limerick #1:

There's so much just waiting for you -
There's no end to what you can do.
So believe in yourself,
Put the past on a shelf,
And life will believe in you too!


 Love Life Limerick #2:

Today is a gift and it's here!
Let go of the worry and fear.
Embrace what you've got,
And call every shot,
'Cause you are the boss now, my dear!

©Arielle Lee Bair
Rock on, limerick lovers!

Day #18: Changing Places

Today's prompt for the Hungry for Change Blogger Challenge is a very interesting one and definitely one that will allow you another glimpse into my personal life. Today's prompt invites me to tell my eating disorder recovery experience from the eyes of someone who knows me, who's seen me. 

I thought about writing from the point of view of my mother. I considered writing from the point of view of my former therapist. But then I thought - who has seen me at my very worst and also seen me at my very best?

And I was left with one answer: my best friend, Libes.

There are some things in life you think will never happen to you. That’s the way it always is…until one day you look at yourself and say, “It DID happen to me. I’m exactly like that.” That’s how it was for me in college at age 18, the day I actually came to the realization that I had an eating disorder.

I counted the calories in everything I ate. It didn’t seem dangerous at the time, but soon I made limits for myself. It didn’t help that I was constantly critical of the way I looked. I needed a tan, shinier hair, more muscle, more height. I would tell myself that I had dry skin, dull hair, small breasts, not-white-enough teeth, and any other criticism I felt was true. I even went as far as to make the declaration that my eyelashes were too short. But of all these, the criticism I told myself the most was that there was too much fat on my body.

Thus, the restrictive behavior began. I cut back on food and I kept lists of what I ate, tallying every calorie like a never-ending math problem. During my second semester of my freshman year of college, I was thoroughly aware of how easy it would be to skip meals. There would be no parents keeping a watchful eye on me and I had any number of excuses ready if asked to dinner in the dining hall by one of my friends. I was hungry, but I just considered it a great accomplishment that I could conquer my hunger.

The semester progressed and so did my eating disorder.  I began to fast completely for days at a time. Then, ravenous with hunger, I’d eat a normal meal and feel horribly guilty. I knew I had a problem, so I went to the counseling center at my university and told them about it. No one else knew—not my parents, not my friends, not my then boyfriend—no one. My eating disordered behavior worsened. My friends were worried about me. They watched me all the time. It wasn’t long before the best friend I’d made at school confronted me. Libes knocked on my door one day while I was crying in bed (a common occurrence in those days) and asked me through the door to let her in. She wanted to know what was going on, but I was afraid to tell her…afraid she wouldn't like me anymore…afraid she wouldn't want to live with me next year. She didn’t judge me at all and she didn’t think I was crazy. She sat there on my bed with me and listened while I cried out everything I’d been keeping to myself. She hugged me at the right moments and told me she would help me. She was relieved that I was going to counseling.

I was surrounded by support and coping was easier, but my eating disorder was still there. I slept often, and I didn’t do very well in my classes. With the help of Libes, I tried to eat at least one substantial thing each day, which was by no means healthy, but was nevertheless an improvement. I stopped listing, but I was always mentally counting. I was irrational and emotional. I took naps to save my energy. Everything was going downhill. Libes saw it all and she never rescinded her friendship.

I was scared. So scared.

I have so many sad little memories - like going to an amusement park one weekend with Libes and getting colder and colder until I was shivering and my teeth were chattering. I felt miserable but the worst part was that everyone I was with was just fine. When we left the amusement park that night I saw that my lips were blue and it took me at least half an hour to get warm inside Libes’s heated car. When we got back to our dorm, I almost passed out, so I immediately sat down on the floor and knelt with my head to my knees to make the feeling go away. She got me water and demanded in her maternal yet firm way that I tell her what was wrong. We talked for a long while and she said something I never forgot. In fact, I wrote it down in my journal back in 2003 so I could be sure I wasn't making it up. She said she’d never leave my side throughout college and that she would help me in any way she could. It meant a lot to me to have someone say that.

I also remember taking a shower and watching a lot of my hair come out. With many long dark strands wrapped around my hands and my pink towel around me, I called Libes to the bathroom and showed her. Meaningfully, she said, “This is your worst nightmare, so you know what you have to do.”  I nodded and laughed nervously to cover my alarm that came from seeing my long hair somewhere other than on my head. 

These memories make me sad because no best friend should ever have to see the things she saw or worry about the things she worried about in regards to me. But as days turned into months and months turned into years, I had more good days than bad and recovery was a work in progress that was actually progressing. In the fall of 2002, Libes became friends with a girl who was timid, struggling, and ill. I came with baggage, but she saw through the bad stuff and loved all the good in me. These days, she gets to see the real me. I'm thankful for that. My best friend, my Maid of Honor in my wedding, my other half - she has seen it all and then some. And while I'm sure I gave her a damn good education on what to expect from someone with an eating disorder, it's nice to know that we can just be best friends these days without my old eating disorder lurking around. That time feels like another life. And that is a really cool thing to get to say.

When I think back on some of my college years, I'm not regretful of it all, because I have so many good memories too. But I often think to myself - the ONLY way a girl in my mental and physical state could have even HAD any fun and special memories in college was if she had a best friend like Libes. So lucky for me, I did.

So it wasn't a total bust. In fact, in spite of all the horrid, aching pain that I felt on a pretty regular basis, college was pretty damn great. And if Libes wasn't part of the equation, I truly don't think I could say that. (Am I trying to say that I have the best friend in the world? Oh yes I am!)

Libes and I have been friends for 10 years now. My heart says, "Is that all?" because I feel like I've lived 10 LIFETIMES since the day I met her.  

As for the NOW, what you see is what you get. And if you see it, she sees it too. I've come a long way and who I am now doesn't need as much of an explanation as the past me. This entire blog is the window to my now, so there's really no need to toot my own horn as the saying goes. Suffice it to say: a recovered life is FAR, FAR better than an eating disordered one.

This blog has a point and a purpose. Not only that, it has a message. I have a goal. It's here to give people hope. My goal is to be an example—to cause people to say, "If that's what recovery looks like, sign me up!"

That's how it started almost 5 years ago, plain and simple, when that bad/sad part of my life was ending and I was in a place where I could call my own body HOME. Since then, I've embarked upon a journey to become a professional in my own rite.

In college, which to be perfectly honest, was years after my eating disorder REALLY began, even though the official diagnosis didn't come until age 18, I was always one of those people who put on a happy face—who smiled even when I was hurting and joked around, making others laugh, consistently concealing the emotions at battle inside me. In a way, it sometimes helped not to talk about it. I liked trying to forget, to be able to have a good time with friends, if only for a few fleeting hours.

It was sad, because something always seemed to fall. I always seemed to fall. I wanted to enjoy myself, to be happy with my friends, to let my mind free itself of numbers and perfection, but I could never enjoy myself completely.

It was like I was at a party, having a blast with a big smile on my face, but there was someone in the corner, wearing dark clothes and looking at me with a scary expression. My eating disorder, my inside pain and dissatisfaction, was that dark, scary someone in the corner. I could still have a great time, could still make great memories, but I was always being watched by something that wanted to take it all away.

When I think of times like this, I am reminded particularly of a few nights out with my college friends. We'd drink and have a good time dancing and laughing…and on the way home, when the alcohol had loosened the strings around my turbulent emotions, I'd start to cry relentlessly, usually on Libes's shoulder. It's kind of embarrassing even now, but I was much more of a mess than I let myself or anyone else believe. Tears typically accompany a mess.

Whether I cried walking home from a bar—feeling as though I was completely ruining the carefree mood—or later in the night back at my old apartment to my best friend, everything seemed to come crashing down after having fun. It took me a while to learn that I'd never really be able to be happy again unless I fixed myself first. Until I took care of what was making me hurt, any fun or happiness was temporary. Temporary.

I knew I didn't want to live like that. After all, who does?

Looking back, nights like that feel like a turning point, or several of them. I knew my entire life was going to be like that if I didn't change something. If I hadn't had the best friend I do, I would have fallen into a sad little hole and lied there 'til something drastic finally pulled me out…if anything pulled me out at all.

This realization came after years of unhappiness and what can only be described as sh*t. This realization came after a freshman year of college that makes me cringe to this day. After days and nights of worrying my friends, of sleeping in the daytime for hours at a time, of letting my past of a being a straight A student fall into the trash as I used all my effort to even make it to—and through—classes. After tedious meals in the dining hall, whole Biology classes spent incessantly tallying my food intake, and one distinctly frightening night when I attempted to measure my dwindling waist by fastening a belt around it—then trying to measure the belt with a ruler—only to be stopped by my freshman roommate and my best friend Libes, who both had to hold me down on my bed while I thrashed around and essentially freaked out. After counseling and eating again only to make my sophomore year a near repeat of my freshman year. After group therapy and fainting spells. After screaming matches with my parents. After obsessive term papers on eating disorders in an attempt to teach myself to stop what I was doing.

After all this came those fun college nights that ended in tears. On Libes's shoulder.

And after that came the realization.

That. I. Didn't. Want. To. And. Couldn't. Do. It. Anymore.

So I set out to learn myself and discovered a lot. It has to start with you.

It has to start with YOU.

But most of all, it has to start.

Sonnet for the Self

Inside the mind, there is a little room.

It has a tiny lock and just one key.

Around it, doubt and shadows tend to loom,

But when the door is opened, truth goes free.

This little room—it houses all self-love.

Tear down the curtains; let the sunlight in.

No need to worry what you’re worthy of—

To love yourself can never be a sin.

Just bask beneath the rays of love and pride,

And never keep this bright room locked away.

Do not be meek or feel you have to hide—

Without self-love, true joy will never stay.

So give this room all that you have to give,

And you will always have a place to live.

(c) Arielle Lee Bair 2006

Progression of Positive (Affirmations)

Today, I'd like to tell you a story.

It's about why I believe wholeheartedly in the power of positive affirmations.

About 8 years ago, University of Delaware, my undergraduate alma mater, held a Love Your Body week. I know many of you are familiar with this. One of the items that was being handed out was a door-hanger that read: BEAUTY IS NOT A STATE OF BODY. IT'S A STATE OF MIND.

I loved it from the second I saw it, but in a hopeful way. I wanted to soak up the wisdom of that statement. I wanted to wake up with a smile every morning knowing it was really true. In short, I had an eating disorder coupled with intense self-perception problems, and that door-hanger made me feel good.

So I took it back to the dorm with me. And I hung it on my door. And I looked at it every day. And I wrote "BEAUTY IS NOT A STATE OF BODY. IT'S A STATE OF MIND" in my notebooks in class. And I wrote it in my journal. And I tried to remember it when I looked in the mirror and hated the image of the girl looking back at me.

Sometime shortly after that, I happened upon this quote by Janis Joplin:

"Don't compromise yourself. You are all you've got."

I really, really liked it. I read it and knew instinctively that it was true. At the end of the day, it's only you. If you give up everything, there's still you. If something or someone takes everything away from you, you're still left. You are all you've got.

So I decided that compromising myself, as Janis put it, was going to have to end. I wasn't stupid - I knew I couldn't make a decision like that and automatically stick to it. I also knew that as much as I might want to love myself and believe in myself and think I was great/smart/pretty/special, it wasn't going to happen overnight. I wished I had a Janis Joplin magic wand that I could aim at myself and suddenly embody that quote of hers.

I did the best thing I could think of that would instill her words in my brain and her message in my heart. I printed out that quote and I stuck it on my mirror. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw that quote. Every time I thought self-hating things about my body, that quote was there in the image too, reminding me that I shouldn't compromise myself because I am all I have.

That quote stayed on my mirror for years. I moved it around with me from place to place, even from mirror to mirror. Sometimes another quote of merit joined it for a time, but always that Janis Joplin message was there. I began to think of it like an item on a To-Do List. Like, "Don't forget the milk." Instead, it was, "Don't forget - don't compromise yourself. You're all you've got." 

You can't read something multiple times a day (especially at your most vulnerable and self-hating moments in front of the mirror) and not start to believe it and take it to heart. 

It started to work its magic, slowly but surely. Years later, when I moved into my first house with Rick, I framed my little Janis Joplin quote and hung it in my bathroom - next to the mirror. It's still there. It's no longer a reminder not to compromise myself. Now, it's a reminder of my journey and path to self-love.

I look in the mirror and smile. I see that Arielle woman in the glass and I like her. I like her face, I like her body, I like her stance on life. I've come a long way from that girl who criticized every inch of herself...that girl who thought she needed a tan, shinier hair, more muscle, more height... that girl who thought she was too fat, too big...that girl who told herself she had dry skin, dull hair, small breasts, not-white-enough teeth, and even went as far as to make the declaration that her eyelashes were too short.

I'm confident. I'm brave. I'm great. I'm beautiful. I'm me. And I don't and won't compromise myself. I'm all I've got. So I don't need that quote on my mirror to remind me anymore. But I keep it...because sometimes... I like to see it there next to my reflection in the mirror and say, "Thanks, Janis."

I

Family & Eating Disorders

YouTube's allowed me limitless videos now, which is awesome. This means I can make and post videos that are longer than 15 minutes. I don't normally need/want to talk longer than that, but there are some topics on which I seem to keep going and going. :)

In any case, in response to a message I received regarding family,(difficulty) understanding, control, and challenges, I made a bonus video entitled "Family & Eating Disorders." There are so many things out there for parents of kids with eating disorders, but not much for the other way around (kids who have parents with eating disorders) or spouse support, etc. There are so many different "significant others" in people's lives so I tried to make this video as applicable as possible.

Being Kind to Yourself

Bonus video for the week: Being Kind to Yourself. A bit less professional than my typical recovery videos. Special appearance by one of my cats, Juice.

You are Beautiful!

You remember my post about the Beauty Message Challenge? Well, my 10 days have elapsed and I'm ready to share them with you. (A video post will follow later this weekend.)

Day One

I posted two messages about The Beauty Message Challenge on the Facebook profiles of 2 beautiful women, telling them in frank terms that they are beautiful no matter what size they are and that no one is beautiful the way they are.

I also went to dinner with my friend Beth and gave her a little speech right outside the restaurant as we waited for a table to free up. This is what I told her:

Day Two

I posted two messages about The Beauty Message Challenge on the Facebook profiles of 2 more beautiful women, telling them in frank terms that they are beautiful because they are one of a kind and very strong.

I also called my mother and told her over the phone what The Beauty Message Challenge was all about - and that I was doing my own spin on it. "So Mom," I said, "I wanted to tell you that YOU are beautiful. And the reason..." She began to laugh, which interrupted me. "Mom, why are you laughing? Don't laugh at me. I'm being serious. You are beautiful and I'm not afraid to tell you." She quieted. I continued, "The reason you are beautiful is because you are funny and you're not afraid to be yourself. You look great for your age, you're pretty and--"

It was around this time that she interrupted again. She said, "You're going to make me cry in the middle of Target."

To which I said, "That would be kind of cool," and chuckled. But then continued, "And you've always been a wonderful mother and I love you."

Day Three

I found the most beautiful(!) card for my friend Jen. It's made by Blue Mountain Arts and they might as well be making cards for The Beauty Message Challenge, because it (and others like it) were perfect for my purposes this week, as you can see.

I popped it in the mail to Jen with a typed page explaining further reasons why she is beautiful and describing The Beauty Message Challenge. I also sent her a CD I hope will be a peaceful gift. Jen is beautiful AND planning her wedding (next month!) right now, so she definitely deserves to hear both the words written in the card and the CD.

I then posted two more messages on the Facebook profiles of two new beautiful women, letting them know they are beautiful, strong, and wonderful.

Day Four

I mailed a special card to my best friend, Libes. It said what I wanted it to say - and what it didn't say, I wrote in myself. :) What did I add? That she's beautiful because she's family oriented, always there for me, has a great body and smile, is fun with a capital F, and much much more. I can't put into the words the beauty of Libes, but she certainly deserves to hear it!

Day Five

I brought a special card into work for my co-worker, Kathy. And I made sure to write in it: "You are beautiful AND I'm not afraid to tell you! A special card for a special woman." I explained to her face to face what the Beauty Message Challenge was all about and handed her the card. :) (She told me later that she has the card displayed at home.)

Day Six

I emailed my friend Alicia and let her know she was beautiful and why in detail. I mean, who wouldn't want to get an email with the subject line: "You are beautiful :)" first thing in the morning? Alicia is one of my dearest friends and is beautiful inside and out.

Day Seven

I sent a message to my friend Huoi. I told her about the BMC and why I think she's beautiful. She's a hard-working doctor and definitely deserves to know!

Day Eight

I brought a special card into work for my friend Val. The card was all about how she is strong, and of course, beautiful. She opened it up and started crying. Her other reactions? She gave me a hug (still crying) and said, "Well I'm not afraid to tell you you're beautiful! I tell you all the time!" which made me laugh.

Day Nine

I sent a message to my friend Sarah telling her about the BMC and explaining why I think she's beautiful. Will she take on the BMC herself and tell herself she's beautiful each day for 10 days? I don't know... but she should, because she's very beautiful. She's in Jen's wedding with me and I love spending time with her. We've been friends since 1st grade!

Day Ten

Day Ten is today - the last day of the BMC. I have a card in my purse that is ready to be given to a co-worker after the weekend is over. She was out for a few days at the end of this work week, so I wasn't able to give it to her when planned. But today, I am telling all of you that YOU are beautiful. It's true. You read the blog, you take the words to heart, and you fight your own fight every single day. There's lots of beauty going on here.

-----------------------------------------------------------------
If there's one thing I discovered during my version of the Beauty Message Challenge, it's that women got embarrassed when I told them they were beautiful, and further embarrassed when I began to tell them why. Some blushed, some interrupted me because they were so surprised, and some cried. What kind of world do we live in when women have such a reaction to being told the TRUTH, that they are beautiful?

I also noticed that as I was telling the separate women they were beautiful (and why) in my variety of ways, I often got choked up or emotional myself. I meant what I said (or wrote) to everyone I told and I wish everyone could hear it a million times over.

One of my favorite sayings of all time is: "Beauty is not a state of body. It's a state of mind." I say this and write this constantly. I love it. But you know what, ladies? Your bodies are beautiful too.

Today, don't argue with me. Accept that you are beautiful. Accept that I think you are. And you know what else? I'm beautiful too. :)

A Response: Finding Love For Yourself...

A few days ago, I received a comment on my latest post from Z. She wrote:

“You really make recovering sound like it's worth consideration at the very least. I know that recovery comes gradually, but how can you decide to recover when you have no love for yourself, let alone the love needed to save yourself? Do you siphon the courage from other people? Is it possible to hate yourself more than you do when you're making yourself beautiful i.e. disordered? You've really given me a lot to think about when it comes to my own issues. I think you are beyond brave to speak out against such a silent horror. I hope one day we can all just look at this as a disease and not something we are meant to be so ashamed of. Maybe then more of us would be willing to get help.”

Z-
Believe me, you don’t know how much I hope that one day this disease will not be something shameful. I too hope that more and more people out there struggling will become more willing to seek help. Breaking the silence is certainly a step in the right direction. We all have voices and we can all use them if we decide to do so. It’s not easy, but it gets easier with every word.

Let me first say this: Recovery IS worth considering. Sometimes the decision to move forward is like a switch. Sometimes it’s a slow process of realization. Sometimes it’s an “aha” moment. Sometimes you find it has happened before you even were aware of it. So, the question at hand—how do you decide to recover when you have no love for yourself? Well, you start by trying what you can to love yourself. Forget recovery for a second and focus on you.

You may recall a post of mine from a couple months ago called A Daily Reminder. You have to surround yourself with positive reinforcement. It doesn’t matter if you don’t believe it. You hear what I’m saying? It doesn’t matter. Do it anyway. Surround yourself with everything you can. Fake it ‘til you make it. Pretend you believe it. Hopefully one day you will.

It’s gonna make you feel silly. I realize this. But it’s almost…necessary. I mean, I get an alarm message on my cell phone every single morning at 9 AM that says, “I like myself.” It’s my phone telling me to like myself. It’s me telling me I like myself. And I don’t even hate myself, girl. And I still do it. I still make myself receive that message.

Do something like that. Put a sign on your mirror so every morning when you look in it you see something positive. Something that is telling you that you like yourself. That you love yourself. That you are good. It may be false. You may not like yourself or love yourself, but it sinks in. Allow it to happen.

Let me lay it out differently. If you hear the message, “You’re fat” or “You’re stupid” every day for your whole life, you’re going to start to believe that, right? Well, if you hear the message “I like myself” or “You’re good” every day for your whole life, you’re going to start to believe that too.

Cool, huh? Do a role reversal. If you smile because you find the message silly for a while, it’s still serving a purpose.

And yes, you CAN siphon courage from others, but ultimately, that courage must fuel your own courage. You can rely on it in bits and pieces…or for short periods of time…but you need to use it as an example of what you want to give yourself, not a replacement. Know what I mean?

By all means, surround yourself with people who fill you up and help you. Support is vital. Let it buoy you up and hold you above the water so that you can finally start to work on your issues and rise above what is bringing you down. In time, you’ll find that you are doing a lot of it on your own, and you don’t need them to do it for you.

A helping hand is never something to push away. Just remember that the goal is to be helped into helping yourself.

In response to your other question, it is always possible to hate yourself more. But it is always possible to love yourself more too. Don’t choose the wrong end of the spectrum. A choice is easy. It’s the following through that’s difficult, but you have to believe it can happen. You can’t give up on yourself—even if you don’t like yourself.

I hope I’ve given you more to think about. I know I put it all out there as if it’s simple, but it’s not and I will never pretend it is. Please feel free to respond again…and remember—the simplest things (like what I’ve been describing) are sometimes the best things we can do for ourselves. So don’t make excuses… today is the perfect day to begin.

Much love,

Arielle

Support: A Give & Take

A new video. Watch it with hope in your heart.

Post-It Gallery

I created a new page you can reach via this site. It's called Arielle's Post-It Gallery. It can be found on the left-hand side of the page.

Spread the love and positivity! Make someone's day!

To Me

Again, I wrote this about 2 years ago. This is like the letter to myself I posted earlier (below), except this is a poem and it's not necessarily to me as a child, but it does speak to the child that is IN me. I love this poem, because I say all the right things...to myself.

I need to tell you what to do--
Ask it fast and mean it true--
It's for me and it's for you:
Help yourself--it's helping two...
You and me and me and you.

I need to give you what you need,
Bandage up your wounds that bleed,
Hold you up so you succeed.
Stop and know it is not greed--
When it is time you will be freed.

Believe, achieve, receive, and grieve
For all of You that you deceive.
Reply and try--do not deny...
Above all, do not leave.

I need to hold you close to me--
Breasts and bones and dignity,
Curly hair and eyes of blue,
Because you're me and I am you.
Reaching fingers, awkward knees,
Jutting ribs, despondency...
Aching heart and tired head,
Little soul once so well fed...
I need to hold you close to me--
Precocious words and empathy,
Dreams and love and weight and pain,
Creativity and shame...
Promises and fragile skin,
Song and breath and smile and sin...
Panic, pressure, lies and fears,
Worries, wishes, fits, and tears.
I need to hold you close to me--
The loneliness, anxiety,
Feelings old and feelings new,
Because you're me and I am you.

(c) Arielle Lee Becker 2005

***

If you'd like to share your own poetry or letter (or anything for that matter), check out Tell Your Tale Tuesdays. I'd love to hear from you!