The imPerfect Body

*trigger warning for anyone struggling with eating disorders

*if you or anyone you know is struggling with eating disorders you can call (866)256-3563 for support.

some of what I have written below is unknown to nearly anyone in my life including the therapists I have had over the years - so to the friends and family that have been my support, I love you and am so grateful for everything you have done for me. your support has not gone unnoticed or unappreciated. you have all saved me in more ways than I can count.

this is a moment of pure vulnerability so please read with a kind heart. and if you or anyone you know might benefit from this and knowing you are not alone please share this and please reach out if there is anything I can do to support you.

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For the last twenty years, I have struggled with the idea that my body is not perfect. With that comes the idea that in order for it to be perfect I need to eat a certain way – which is not eating or binging and then purging.

While the adolescent version of me didn’t necessarily pertain to these methods, the young adult version did. I can remember the first time I sat thinking about what I “needed” to do to get my body to where I wanted it to be. How could I possibly attain this level of perfection that I had been envisioning since I was playing with Barbie’s.

Yes, I will say that I wholeheartedly believe Barbie had a huge effect on my mental state, amongst many other things. From growing up in the world of dance to constantly comparing myself to my sisters and friends. Hearing comments about my body from my dad. Never feeling wanted by anyone all through high school. Constantly feeling like even if I did scream, no one would hear and certainly, no one would care was a burden I took to mean I wasn’t beautiful and that’s why no one liked me.

(If I could go back in time I would squeeze that little girl and tell her she is the most beautiful greatest thing on this planet and everything is going to be okay.)

My freshman year of college was when I finally decided to do something about the way I looked. It started by finally getting into the gym. I would get up early and go before class, but it still didn’t do enough for me fast enough. The levels of perfection so carefully carved into my mind felt even further away than before. So… my friend Kristen and I sat down and decided to make a pact….

We would starve ourselves and workout more and we would do it together. Hold each other accountable. Check in with each other. Make sure the slow deterioration of our bodies was happening at a steady state. We weren’t going to do it forever, we just wanted to drop some weight fast. That’s what I told myself anyway.

I truly believed that was the only way that I would be attractive to people. Sometimes I still believe it. It certainly isn’t easy and it can be scary. When friends, male friends to be more specific, started commenting on how good I was looking, it made it easier to keep going. To sit in the dining hall, nursing a water or a small salad because “I wasn’t hungry”. I could feel the fatigue taking a toll though.

Every morning was more difficult than the last to get up. Every morning was like a giant weight holding me down. Every workout was harder and harder and every day I was a little more disappointed in myself.

You know there is part of me that wishes someone had cared enough to ask if I was alright. Not that people didn’t care, but no one was concerned. Which in turn made me feel worse. Realizing that I was so overweight, that when I starved myself to a point of reaching a true healthy weight I finally became more attractive. It confirmed everything I had been telling myself. It was definitive that being unhealthy would make me look healthy. That was all the confirmation I needed to understand that temporary was going to last a lot longer.

As the weeks went on, Kristen and I would talk about how exhausted we were and how that must mean it’s working. Even after our pact died off, I stopped eating as much and when I did, I felt so much guilt and shame I would cry myself to sleep – disgusted. The guilt radiated. It was like this evanescent glow lingering in the background of my mind: dim and worn but strong enough to pull me down. Taunting and teasing me- keeping me locked in the shadows of my own mind. Scared of myself and what I would do next, but ready to keep going anyway.

So when I started eating again and after the guilt had surmounted to an unreasonable amount, that was when I took to the toilet. I’ll be honest, the first time I tried, it did not go well, which ironically, makes that a good thing. With the thought of giving up looming, I dug into the resilient part of me and refused to let one try be the end all be all. So I tried again and you know what? I succeeded.

I started to indulge in the food from Southside Dining Center and would follow it up with a quick trip to the toilet to rid my body of the crap normally referred to as nutrients and sustenance.

I did try to stop. Multiple times. I actually remember one moment very clearly. I had just had sushi with friends and we were back in the dorm lounge. I had this combative conversation running through my mind –

Don’t do it. You know it’s not good for you.

So what? It feels good. Plus you just put a whole lot of fat and grime in your body why wouldn’t you?

Because it isn’t healthy. There are other ways.

None as quick or efficient as this.

I won’t give in.

But you will.

And I did. I sat in front of that toilet for ten minutes before I did anything that night. After puking everything out of my system, I knew I needed to call my mom.

Crying on the phone, I told her what had been going on. She did the right thing. Other than be the most supportive person I could have asked for, she told me I was coming home at the end of the semester and we would figure out what to do when I was back. Therapy was not a choice and in order to go back to school, I had to get things right again. I told no one why I was leaving except for the guy who would later be my first boyfriend. Sounds silly when I say it now, but I was ashamed of what I had allowed to become of myself. Since my self judgement was already heavy, I didn’t want the weight of other people’s thoughts and opinions too.

The funny thing is, I still didn’t achieve the body I wanted. It still wasn’t enough.

I wasn’t enough.

Having family right in the other room should have been some semblance of motivation, them watching out for me, but honestly, it never is because at the end of the day it all comes from inside. It’s my own self-worth that wasn’t measuring up. It was the constant comparisons and lack of emotionally stable parents growing up that led me down this trail of self-deprecating thoughts and actions.

(Of course I don’t blame them anymore. I believe people are just doing the best they can, even when it hurts. Things were what they were and I’m a better person today for all of it. I wouldn’t trade those experiences for the world.)

Jump forward another 10 years and we have reached present day me. The evolution of me has not been perfect and in these continuous blog posts I will continue to let you into the dark moments in my life as well as some of the brightest.

I am still on this journey. I still struggle with my body at times and I do have my bad days. Days when I find myself hovering over a toilet bowl or finding other ways to cleanse my system. It hurts and it is never fun and the wave of guilt that passes over never changes or lessens. It remains prominent and bold. Demanding of attention I do not wish to give it but somehow cater to all the same. Ashamed that no one will love me because I’m still struggling with this.

I wish I could say now I have achieved “perfect”, but this has been one of the biggest lessons in my life around the ideal of perfection:

If we constantly seek perfection, we will never get there. Skinny enough will never be enough. Strong enough will never be strong enough. Smart enough will never be enough. It’ll never be the right time or the right person. Nothing will ever be enough.

So why did I share all of this? Not to bring you down or give you a moment of woe is me, but to share that the continual search for perfection leads nowhere good.

Instead, I have been working on learning how to accept progress and let go of everything else. I don’t have to be perfect, and neither do you. We are human and the only thing that matters is finding love for ourselves in ourselves. This is not easy for a lot of people and I recognize that. All we can do is keep trying, putting one foot in front of the other.

I believe we are all capable of love. I believe we are all capable of loving ourselves for ourselves. Most importantly, I believe that we are destined for more than we will ever be able to give ourselves credit for.

These words do not come lightly. These words are from the bottom of my heart.

You are a gift. You are a gift as you are in this walk of life and in this moment. You will continue to be a gift and no matter what perfection you are struggling to achieve, I will be here to say I love you and you have a friend in me.

Love always is more than loving others, it’s loving ourselves too. Sometimes we just need to hear it first.

Love Always,

Riss