Just the way I am!
I am 12 years old wearing only a pair of underwear. My mother is making me stand in front of a mirror. I am mortified.
She asks me what I see...I roll my eyes, pinch the skin on my belly and say ,"I see fat,fat and more fat... Happy?"
She sees frail and fragile, and hears the sarcasm in my voice. She is beyond frightened.
We are both looking at the same thing...my almost naked body, yet we see completely different things, have completely different emotions and are thinking completely different thoughts
I am feeling awkward, angry, embarrassed and mixed up, while my mom is feeling terrified and troubled. She has been watching me slowly disappear in front of her eyes over the past 6 months and is unsure of where to turn next.
Anorexia Nervosa was the diagnosis. It was virtually unknown to most 1975, it wasnt until 1983 when Karen Carpenter died from her anorexia, that people recognised the diagnosis.
It took 3 years of counseling, a month of hopitilization and lots of tears shed before the dinner table in the Poirier household was not a war zone.
Food and exercise have been the coach and the quarterback throughout my life. They dictated actions, decisions and choices. Calories counted non stop, exercise logged and analyzed, scale down=worthy and happy, scale up=depressed and ugly.
She asks me what I see...I roll my eyes, pinch the skin on my belly and say ,"I see fat,fat and more fat... Happy?"
She sees frail and fragile, and hears the sarcasm in my voice. She is beyond frightened.
We are both looking at the same thing...my almost naked body, yet we see completely different things, have completely different emotions and are thinking completely different thoughts
I am feeling awkward, angry, embarrassed and mixed up, while my mom is feeling terrified and troubled. She has been watching me slowly disappear in front of her eyes over the past 6 months and is unsure of where to turn next.
Anorexia Nervosa was the diagnosis. It was virtually unknown to most 1975, it wasnt until 1983 when Karen Carpenter died from her anorexia, that people recognised the diagnosis.
It took 3 years of counseling, a month of hopitilization and lots of tears shed before the dinner table in the Poirier household was not a war zone.
Food and exercise have been the coach and the quarterback throughout my life. They dictated actions, decisions and choices. Calories counted non stop, exercise logged and analyzed, scale down=worthy and happy, scale up=depressed and ugly.
It has been only over the last few years that I have finally begun to accepted and appreciated what my body has done for me.
It can throw like a boy, kick a soccer ball down field, fight a fire, climb and repelled off a ferris wheel, run a marathon or 2, deliver babies, naturally and via c-section, it can climb mountains and swim in the ocean....It can hug, smile, laugh and cry...
My body has done amazing things...why have I hated it so much and treated it so poorly? It is time for me to begin to respect and honor my body, JUST THE WAY IT IS!
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