nonfat life

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likeloveadore:

so nice.

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likeloveadore:

I am about to share things that probably almost none of you who follow me know.
I only post honest things when it’s late at night and I’m fairly certain most of my (real life) friends are asleep. I always “flirted” with an eating disorder from the age 12 or so onwards. By flirted with I mean that I absolutely had an ED - I fainted from calorie restriction, I binged and purged, I took diet pills - yet I was never sick to the point of hospitalization. I was a high level (travelled and competed internationally) figure skater from the age of 3 to 18 when I “retired” from injuries. Because of this, no one really questioned my careful (read: obsessive) nutrition, my constant exercise, my low body weight.But when I turned 18 I took a flight to Africa, and I lived in a tent in the bush in Namibia for 11 and a half months. For almost a year I lived in a tent in 52 degrees C (that’s 126 F) with just 3 pairs of pants and 4 shirts and I ate what I was given to eat.I moved to Toronto afterwards, and then back to Alberta for University. Things were fine, things were good even. I had a serious girlfriend, I was going to a good school for nursing (what I’d always wanted), I was building a relationship with my father, I had friends, I felt good about my body. I would eat french toast and drink coffee with a splash of cream in it with my girlfriend on the weekends, and I never counted my calories.In January of last year everything in my life fell apart. I stopped getting out of bed. I stopped waking up in the morning. I stopped eating. I ended up having to drop my entire semester at university, which sets me back an entire year.I lost 33 pounds in 5 weeks.But no one around me panicked; because I claimed it was due to a medical condition I had (genuinely) recently been diagnosed with. No one thought the weight loss was intentional or even desired by me. I told everyone who asked (and ask they did) that I ate tons, but the weight kept falling off. Eventually my period stopped coming. I never admitted to anyone that I had a problem. When my doctor refused to continue treating my medical conditions until I admitted I had an eating disorder, I switched doctors. When a psychiatrist my school sent me to tried to make me realize I was underweight, I stopped seeing her. I thought I was fine. I thought I was fine until I realized I really was not.
And so I threw my scales away (again). I ran away (again), this time to Austin, Texas. I stopped going out 4-5 nights every week. I started eating again. I stopped living at the pool every single day. I decided to go back to University.I’ve gained weight. I don’t know how much. But quite a bit. Because I’ve gained weight since this time last year I have this sense of myself as “big”, as being “not thin anymore”. In my head I am curvy to the point of being chubby. But I took the picture above yesterday; and I guess I need to admit that I’m still thinner than I realize.I was laying in bed yesterday morning with a girl who was tracing the outline of my body with her fingers (and sometimes her lips) and she said offhand (knowing nothing of my history with my body) “You’re so thin.” I was completely taken aback. I truly do not view myself that way at all and I was so confused by her saying that, why she would think that.
So I came home and took a picture of myself right away because for some reason I can see myself more clearly in a photo than I can in the mirror (and certainly more clearly than looking down at myself). And I guess what I don’t realize or understand is that I AM thin. I worry so much still every day that I eat too much, that I should try to lose weight again, that no one will like me or love me when I “look like this”. But looking at this photo (and other recent ones), I can see that perhaps to an extent, it’s all in my head? Maybe I am thin.But even if I am not thin, WHY does it matter? I am a beautiful, strong woman who has been through a lot, and achieved a lot, and wants to live to accomplish many more things, and love many more people. Weight is really just a silly number.
This isn’t who I am, it’s just what I look like.
I am deciding to post this because I adamantly believe in the necessity of transparency. I am so vocal about the need for feminine lesbians to be VISIBLE in order to fight femme invisibility. I speak openly about my sexuality in all aspects of my life, whether someone has questions about what lesbian sex is “like”, my plans or my future, or how it affected my family. I can tell a stranger about my sex life. Yet I cannot tell people I am closest to that at almost 22 years old I’ve spent more than half my life crying over food. I don’t know why I care so much. I just know that I do.I have a lot of followers, more than I ever expected. A lot of people follow me who have distorted eating habits or behaviours, or have in the past, or might in the future, or know someone who does. THAT IS THOUSANDS OF YOU. I’m sick of pretending that I don’t care about my figure. I’ve spent my whole life caring more than is healthy.So please talk to me. Come to me. I will listen if you need someone to listen. You can ask me questions.
Because this is not a struggle I am done with but it is a struggle I am done hiding.

This is the most amazing and inspiring girl I know, you should all go follow her blog right now.

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