Love For My ED Body
I watched my old track team compete last weekend. Being at the meet brought back a slew of old memories. Very bittersweet.
On the one hand it was a real relief to not have the anxiety and pressure that surrounded me before a race, but on the other I missed it. I missed the opportunity to test yourself, to see your hard work pay off, to push yourself to your physical and mental limits, and all with the support and comradery of a team behind you. There is not much I wouldn’t give to be able to do it all again.
As I sat in the stands I realized how triggering this environment was for me. It was tough to be surrounded by athletes in peak physical shape doing what I loved. While I am on much more stable footing in regards to my body acceptance and self-confidence now, to be honest— I missed my old body.
And this got me thinking about how I used to view and take care of myself when I had my eating disorder. This statement may not be something you hear very often when someone recounts the depths of their ED, but for me the main thing that popped into my head was:
How Much Love I Had For My Body.
I am very aware that for a lot of people struggling with an eating disorder there is an intense amount of self-hatred. But that just does not fit with my story.
From the bleachers I watched people race and I kept thinking about the amount of love, care, and attention I gave to my body during my ED. All I wanted was to take care of it. I remember sitting on the floor in front of the TV each night massaging, foam rolling, and stretching my tight muscles. I remember scheduling my days to make sure I was in bed for a full night’s rest. I remember buying an Ipad to replace my laptop so that there would be less weight and stress on my back as I rode my bike from class to class. And finally I remember my obsession with filling my meals with fruits and vegetables, lean proteins, and whole grains. I had no reservations at the amount I was willing to spend on groceries, or the time I was willing to spend constructing my meals. And yes it absolutely turned into an eating disorder, but at the time it was stemming from a love for my body and a desire to nourish it to the best of my abilities.
Only now can I see the flaws in my logic that my disorder convinced me where right. I know that eating such a low fat diet is bad for my health and especially my hormones. I know that eating so strictly with such an intense exercise program prevented me from maintaining my weight. I know that having such a low body fat will damage my body with lasting effects. And maybe the piece most relevant to the old me: I know that being so lean, and restrictive with my diet will prevent me from having the strength, energy, and endurance, to perform at my potential. And I understand that the disordered me just could not wrap my head around this reality. But that is what it is. A truth.
That is why I speak out about my story. Because no one was able to convince me of this reality. But I might be able to convince someone else. Someone who resonates with these experiences and struggles.
Returning to a track meet may always be triggering for me. Those memories represent some of the best times I have ever had, and I believe I will always miss them. But I just kept reminding myself that I am at a different stage in my life now with different demands and opportunities. And I am just grateful that I had my chance to experience being a student athlete even though it could not last forever. And now it is time to accomplish new goals with the same passion and resolve that I brought with me on the track, with one of those being to share my story and help others avoid the mistakes I made <3