Today, rather than give you words, I thought I'd give you pictures...
Pictures of me laughing, that is...
Because I do it a lot in this recovered life!
Showing posts with label photos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label photos. Show all posts
Monday, June 18, 2012
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Back to the Questions...#7:
Here's another one (and a good one) by Licketysplit. She asks:
"Is there anything you can remember helping you specifically with being able to accept your body? Although I'm in a much better place than I have been in past years, it seems like every time I get momentum to finally kick this thing to the curb, my body image gets in the way and takes me back to ED."
I know this is going to sound strange, but I think Women’s Studies helped me be able to accept my body in a big way. I was an English major in college, but I also ended up leaving with a degree in Women’s Studies as well as English. I dabbled at first, taking a Women’s Studies class here and there, ended up making it my minor, and then took the plunge and added a second major to my workload. I liked it that much... and what's more, it made me feel good about myself.
Let me explain: While I sat in a lot of my Women’s Studies classes, I began to GROW a deep appreciation for my female body. I was super proud to be a woman, and I realized that a body came with that. I also was able to delve into a lot of eating disorder issues via books, films, discussions, and courses, so I could explore my own feelings, experiences, and better help myself and others. Being a Women’s Studies major helped me to like myself.
I don’t by any means think that the answer to accepting your body is Women’s Studies. (Haha.) It just happened to be a big part of the equation for me. I found my voice in those classes. I found some of the spirit I felt I had lost. I became less shy, less self-hating, and I discovered things about myself I didn’t even know. Plus, the feeling of...sisterhood, for lack of a better word... made me feel comforted and at ease. I liked feeling like a part of something and that something happened to be womanhood... a piece of the human race... which allowed me to express myself, accept myself and my body, and understand that all women are incredibly different and beautiful.
A lot of accepting my body was the “fake it ‘til you make it” rule of thumb. I just pretended really hard to be okay with myself and like myself, and the rest began to follow.
I took a lot of photos of myself. A lot. Not for bones and thinness and other things. But for beauty. I took pictures of myself and looked for beauty in them. I ended up liking a lot of photos I took of myself. I learned to smile at myself. Used my artistic eye to see loveliness. Told myself it was okay to have thoughts like, “Wow, I look really pretty here.” It didn’t mean I was conceited. It meant I was learning to like my own appearance, even as the weight went on. I used to just sit with myself, inside or outside, hair up or hair down, and snap photos of my own face and body with my digital camera. I saved them on my computer in a folder and instead of picking them apart, I admired them. It gave me a really good feeling to know that I was ADMIRING myself. Finally finding beauty in my appearance. (I don’t mind sharing these nutty things, as they obviously did a world of good. Haha.)
I also tried to make things a celebration instead of a meltdown, even if I had to force myself. It usually ended up transforming anyway. Prime example: When I was doing really well in recovery and I had to buy new clothes because my old ones were too small, I didn’t let it freak me out. As you know, it’s not a very good feeling to pull on pants and have them not fit. Especially if it’s not just one pair, but many pairs. It had the potential to make me panic. I had to buy a bunch of new clothes. Bigger sizes. And when I came home, I could feel the panic rising...so I called my best friend and turned what could have been a meltdown into a celebration. “I had to buy new clothes!” I yelled into the phone, happily. “A lot of my stuff was too small. I bought BIGGER sizes! I can’t believe it! It’s so amazing that I’m not wearing a size X anymore!” I was proud of myself, but I was antsy and uneasy. So I simply tried to portray the happiness I knew I should wholly be feeling. I knew I should be congratulating myself.
She was so happy to hear what I told her, and so proud of me. And obviously glad that I was at a healthier weight that I wasn’t fitting into my old clothes. So she celebrated with me. She congratulated me. We made it a good and a happy thing. I got off the phone feeling good, feeling proud of what I had done: stuck with recovery long enough to gain weight and keep it on... then not fit in my clothes, then buy NEW, BIGGER ones, then NOT freak out. It was huge.
Body image may get in the way for a while, but you don’t have to let it cause you to restrict or (insert other behavior) and head back down an unhealthy road. Work with it! If you don’t give in to it, it will pass. It will come in spurts for a while, here and there, but eventually, it will pass. You have the power to turn things around. Don’t let fear stop you.
"Is there anything you can remember helping you specifically with being able to accept your body? Although I'm in a much better place than I have been in past years, it seems like every time I get momentum to finally kick this thing to the curb, my body image gets in the way and takes me back to ED."
I know this is going to sound strange, but I think Women’s Studies helped me be able to accept my body in a big way. I was an English major in college, but I also ended up leaving with a degree in Women’s Studies as well as English. I dabbled at first, taking a Women’s Studies class here and there, ended up making it my minor, and then took the plunge and added a second major to my workload. I liked it that much... and what's more, it made me feel good about myself.
Let me explain: While I sat in a lot of my Women’s Studies classes, I began to GROW a deep appreciation for my female body. I was super proud to be a woman, and I realized that a body came with that. I also was able to delve into a lot of eating disorder issues via books, films, discussions, and courses, so I could explore my own feelings, experiences, and better help myself and others. Being a Women’s Studies major helped me to like myself.
I don’t by any means think that the answer to accepting your body is Women’s Studies. (Haha.) It just happened to be a big part of the equation for me. I found my voice in those classes. I found some of the spirit I felt I had lost. I became less shy, less self-hating, and I discovered things about myself I didn’t even know. Plus, the feeling of...sisterhood, for lack of a better word... made me feel comforted and at ease. I liked feeling like a part of something and that something happened to be womanhood... a piece of the human race... which allowed me to express myself, accept myself and my body, and understand that all women are incredibly different and beautiful.
A lot of accepting my body was the “fake it ‘til you make it” rule of thumb. I just pretended really hard to be okay with myself and like myself, and the rest began to follow.
I took a lot of photos of myself. A lot. Not for bones and thinness and other things. But for beauty. I took pictures of myself and looked for beauty in them. I ended up liking a lot of photos I took of myself. I learned to smile at myself. Used my artistic eye to see loveliness. Told myself it was okay to have thoughts like, “Wow, I look really pretty here.” It didn’t mean I was conceited. It meant I was learning to like my own appearance, even as the weight went on. I used to just sit with myself, inside or outside, hair up or hair down, and snap photos of my own face and body with my digital camera. I saved them on my computer in a folder and instead of picking them apart, I admired them. It gave me a really good feeling to know that I was ADMIRING myself. Finally finding beauty in my appearance. (I don’t mind sharing these nutty things, as they obviously did a world of good. Haha.)
I also tried to make things a celebration instead of a meltdown, even if I had to force myself. It usually ended up transforming anyway. Prime example: When I was doing really well in recovery and I had to buy new clothes because my old ones were too small, I didn’t let it freak me out. As you know, it’s not a very good feeling to pull on pants and have them not fit. Especially if it’s not just one pair, but many pairs. It had the potential to make me panic. I had to buy a bunch of new clothes. Bigger sizes. And when I came home, I could feel the panic rising...so I called my best friend and turned what could have been a meltdown into a celebration. “I had to buy new clothes!” I yelled into the phone, happily. “A lot of my stuff was too small. I bought BIGGER sizes! I can’t believe it! It’s so amazing that I’m not wearing a size X anymore!” I was proud of myself, but I was antsy and uneasy. So I simply tried to portray the happiness I knew I should wholly be feeling. I knew I should be congratulating myself.
She was so happy to hear what I told her, and so proud of me. And obviously glad that I was at a healthier weight that I wasn’t fitting into my old clothes. So she celebrated with me. She congratulated me. We made it a good and a happy thing. I got off the phone feeling good, feeling proud of what I had done: stuck with recovery long enough to gain weight and keep it on... then not fit in my clothes, then buy NEW, BIGGER ones, then NOT freak out. It was huge.
Body image may get in the way for a while, but you don’t have to let it cause you to restrict or (insert other behavior) and head back down an unhealthy road. Work with it! If you don’t give in to it, it will pass. It will come in spurts for a while, here and there, but eventually, it will pass. You have the power to turn things around. Don’t let fear stop you.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
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!
Spread the love and positivity! Make someone's day!
Monday, January 7, 2008
Goodbye 2007, Hello 2008
2007 is over now and it was the healthiest year I've had in a long long time. Even as a kid I know I often was far too skinny for my own good, though I wasn't yet aware of the way in which my issues were manifesting themselves. I was feeling so thankful for having such a great year--a year of health and happiness, complete with an engagement, buying a new home with my fiance, and planning my wedding...then I realized--I'm not just thankful--I'm proud of myself too.
I'd go as far as to say that 2007 was my best year to date. I know that part of that is because of all the wonderful things this year has brought me, but a large part of it is because I was in a good place...a place where I could enjoy them. I was not obsessive, I was not anxious, and I was not unhappy. It took work to get to this place. I think, at times, I felt I was there before I really was. But now, I know that I can safely say I am in a good place. A place of which I can be proud. A place I can call home. I place I can call life.
At about 25 pounds heavier than my lowest weight, I feel healthy. I like my body. I still have my moments where I grimace when I look in the mirror or where I sigh when putting on a pair of pants, but these moments are fleeting and I do not think about them after. I think a lot of women, eating disordered or not, feel this way sometimes. But all in all, I like my body the way it is. It's pretty. It's me.
I'm still considered slender, but I have breasts now. I have shiny hair. I have legs that have shape. I eat right, I have snacks when I want to, and I work out--but not in excess. I'm taking care of myself. My stomach is still flat, but now I have enough body fat to be able to have a child. Before, when my body fat percentage was dangerously low, it would have been impossible to conceive. I had to buy new pants. It stung a bit at first, but in the long run, I'm glad. I told my best friend proudly that I had to get rid of some size 0s and 1s that used to be big on me because I couldn't even zip them up. I rejoiced in filling out my bras again. I look good, not ill. But most of all, I look happy.
I looked at old photos the other night...photos in which my collar bones jutted out grotesquely and my face looked drawn. I saw photos of me--of a concave stomach, a torso with protruding ribs, legs that were sticks and not feminine. I was so sad for that girl. Until I realized that girl is me--and I'm okay now! Better than okay. I don't know if it's strange or not, but I keep those old pictures of myself in a special folder on my computer so I can look at them when I want to love the body I have now. When I want to remember what it was like to be sad, dejected, hungry, and plagued by something I could not shake.
And now, when I look at those photos, I can tell that poor girl that it's going to be okay. Because it is. It really is.
I'd go as far as to say that 2007 was my best year to date. I know that part of that is because of all the wonderful things this year has brought me, but a large part of it is because I was in a good place...a place where I could enjoy them. I was not obsessive, I was not anxious, and I was not unhappy. It took work to get to this place. I think, at times, I felt I was there before I really was. But now, I know that I can safely say I am in a good place. A place of which I can be proud. A place I can call home. I place I can call life.
At about 25 pounds heavier than my lowest weight, I feel healthy. I like my body. I still have my moments where I grimace when I look in the mirror or where I sigh when putting on a pair of pants, but these moments are fleeting and I do not think about them after. I think a lot of women, eating disordered or not, feel this way sometimes. But all in all, I like my body the way it is. It's pretty. It's me.
I'm still considered slender, but I have breasts now. I have shiny hair. I have legs that have shape. I eat right, I have snacks when I want to, and I work out--but not in excess. I'm taking care of myself. My stomach is still flat, but now I have enough body fat to be able to have a child. Before, when my body fat percentage was dangerously low, it would have been impossible to conceive. I had to buy new pants. It stung a bit at first, but in the long run, I'm glad. I told my best friend proudly that I had to get rid of some size 0s and 1s that used to be big on me because I couldn't even zip them up. I rejoiced in filling out my bras again. I look good, not ill. But most of all, I look happy.
I looked at old photos the other night...photos in which my collar bones jutted out grotesquely and my face looked drawn. I saw photos of me--of a concave stomach, a torso with protruding ribs, legs that were sticks and not feminine. I was so sad for that girl. Until I realized that girl is me--and I'm okay now! Better than okay. I don't know if it's strange or not, but I keep those old pictures of myself in a special folder on my computer so I can look at them when I want to love the body I have now. When I want to remember what it was like to be sad, dejected, hungry, and plagued by something I could not shake.
And now, when I look at those photos, I can tell that poor girl that it's going to be okay. Because it is. It really is.
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