"You are a woman. Skin and bones,
veins and nerves, hair and sweat.
You are not made of metaphors. Not
apologies, not excuses."
-Sarah Kay ("The Type")
I will be posting this early because we are out of town tomorrow. I purposely took a simple shot of my face, super up close. Those lines that inspired me to choose it as theme of the week really got to me. Yes, I am a woman. Just a few years ago, I became one--at 26. Late, right? The story goes way back, and you know, appearance does deceive. When my husband met me, he thought I was a woman oozing out confidence. He was wrong. A week into the relationship he saw me for what I really am--an insecure female with an eating disorder that empowered me to be all that I was. It consumed me, eventually it became me. I will not eat to feel alive, to feel beautiful, to feel how life is worth living. Ironic.
I needed to starve myself to feel beautiful. If I ate in the morning, I'd refuse to go out the whole day...because I'd feel ugly and fat. I'd double my time running, sometimes the two sets of one hour runs would be a two hour run straight. And I felt proud of myself for the discipline. Even if my stomach would ache, even when there were days I couldn't get out of bed. Even when my hair started to fall out, and my period was disappearing--I felt beautiful; I felt powerful.
Love does change you, if you find the right kind of love you deserve. I started to value food because of my love for my husband. I ate because he felt sad eating alone, or eating what's on my plate. I started to eat well because I wanted to sprout a little life, too. And when that little life came, I ate regular meals (though I feel guilty still for measuring my food). This is only a part of a bigger mess that I was then.
Twice the love made me a woman. Love from my husband, and love from my daughter. She made me realize how beauty is not found only in you, but how you share the beauty of life with others. I am no longer ashamed of who I am. And now, starving does not empower me...maybe a red lip does!
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