When you’re a little off center…

It took me awhile but after twenty-three years, I’ve finally found my center. You know, the place everyone is referring to when they describe themselves “centered”. The place where peace emanates from, the place where I feel grounded and whole. I am centered when I have a low (but not too low) stress level. I am centered when I am doing work and activities that fulfill me. I am centered when I am making time for myself. I am centered when I am eating regularly and enough. It’s in this place that I can think clearly, laugh loudly and feel good, despite what thoughts pop up.

I am very off-center.

Before anyone gets worried (ahem, mom), I am fine. I am just a normal person who sometimes has bad days and who sometimes doesn’t sleep well at night. Most importantly for myself, I am eating enough (although I do believe I could stand to eat more because I’m a bit more draggy than usual, even for this kind of mood. Oh, the wonders of recovery. Never know when your body suddenly wants to make more repairs).

I started moving away from my center this weekend. I spent my weekend in Rhode Island, which is where I went to college and where a lot of my friends still live. Let’s get two things out of the way first: I’ve had my panties in a bunch because my October weekends are getting eaten alive by life. I just want to slow down, enjoy my favorite time of year, go for a hike in these beautiful NH mountains by myself. I want to go to the farmer’s market on Saturday morning and get a cookie butter coffee while I’m over there. I want to write and read and bask in the beauty of the Earth. I regret to inform you all that I am selfish when it comes to my weekends. I love seeing people and spending time with my friends but I also love two whole days where I have no plans, no obligations, just me doing my own thang. And I have not a single weekend in October to myself which makes me (again, selfishly) grumpasaurus rex. Second, the full moon was this weekend so this moon child was feeling all sorts of nutty.

Also before everyone I’ve spent an October weekend with feels bad/mad/sad: HI GUYS I love you all so much it’s stupid, I am just being a greedy wench who wants it both ways. 

That being said…I went to Rhode Island this weekend. Which is a place where I spent four long, unhappy years trapped by my eating disorder and unbearable anxiety. It’s a place where I spent many nights crying, feeling unwanted, feeling bad about myself, feeling different, feeling every emotion under the sun. I had some very dark days there. And it’s a place I have not been back to since recovery.So basically, my weekend brought up some unexpected things. And for the most part, thatI spent most of my weekend with four of my friends, all of whom except one had not seen me since recovery (it is worth noting here that I was not worried at all about them seeing me and thinking of me differently. That’s just a thought I had now like hey, they might have noticed you gained 50 pounds but it’s totally not anything I thought of beforehand because they are all good and loving and funny people who don’t judge people based on the way they look. These are the kind of people everyone should hang out with). Anywho. I just wasn’t used to being my recovered self with them. Even when we went out to meals, I started having thoughts about who I used to be when I was with them and how I used to eat and who I am now and what I eat. It’s like looking at a picture from your childhood; suddenly, you are sucked back into the past and you forget where you are or what you’re doing or how you’ve grown.

didn’t stop me from enjoying the weekend. I had a swell time. I laughed harder than I have in awhile and loved up on people who I haven’t seen in awhile and ate delicious breakfast foods. But those thoughts sat in the back of mind, lingering there like smoke after you blow out the flame. And then I continued to let it smolder for a few more hours while I drove home. And then I decided that I didn’t feel like journaling (which I do every night, especially after a weekend of not writing) and I didn’t feel like reading and all I wanted to do was watch mindless TV and get mad over silly things and then walk by the river with a podcast in to distract myself from it all. Note: this is not helpful.

Yesterday, I was trying to be kind to myself but my tummy hurt and work was dragging by and I didn’t like my swollen belly and my hair was driving me crazy and my knee was bothering me more than usual and I went to bed later than I wanted to and I didn’t sleep hardly at all and this morning when I woke up, it was cloudy and colder than it was supposed to be and I didn’t feel like going to work and I had a headache and an ingrown hair and it was raining on me during my outreach stops and they gave me the wrong thing for lunch and I forgot my seltzer water home and how could anyone possibly happy when so many catastrophic things are happening to her?!?!?!

Yes, I am being a baby. But even still, this whole combination of things plus exhaustion brought up some very real depression/anxiety/body image thoughts for me. As I drove home from work today, I just thought to myself: what are you doing? Why are you making yourself miserable? Why aren’t you writing when you know it will help? Why aren’t you reading when you know you would rather do that than watch that episode of Friends for the 27th time (not that there’s anything wrong with that)? Why are you letting those body image thoughts take hold in your brain?

I’m not saying that depression or anxiety or eating disorders are decisions; they aren’t. They are very real, very scary, very distressing and unpleasant. But after seven years of dealing with these things, there are things I know I can do to make myself feel better. It’s easier, yes, to be enveloped by the bad thoughts and curl up in them like a blanket. That is a place I once took great comfort. But that’s not where I want to live anymore. That blanket that once felt warm and cozy now feels scratchy and harsh, like it’s been used too many times. That warm feeling comes when I’m at my center, when I’m honoring my truth in my little bubble of authentic life.

So I need to move back towards that space, back to to the place where I feel like I am serving a greater purpose and am fulfilled, happy, whole.It’s not easy. But it’s easier than getting sucked into that dark place, where the light gets so dim it eventually goes out. Fighting back against that by doing things I love to a place where I feel like I am beaming light? Yes please. That is where I want to be. That is where I’m going. We all have that center, the place where we emulate light and love, to the place where we’re all just feelin’ really good, man. It’s our job to find that place, figure out how to get there and then do everything in our power to stay in that sliver of life where joy and fulfillment and contentment and passion live. We all have that place. And we can all get there. Tomorrow is a new day.

Now I want you to tell me…
If you’ve had an ED, has going back to places/people you associate with that thing brought difficult thoughts up?
Does this post resonate with people who have dealt with mental illness in general? Do you feel like there are times when you are off-balance and can feel yourself being pulled in the opposite direction?
How do you find your center?
What’s the best thing that happened to you today? (In case anyone is wondering, mine would be writing this blog post in my sweatpants under this cozy blanket.)

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Pregnancy-Safe Skin Care Products

Congratulations! You are now on your way to becoming a mom. The condition will definitely raise you and your significant others’ curiosity, especially it is going to be your first baby. There will be much concern as to how you and your baby will stay healthy while enjoying the journey.

There will be periods of highs and lows and these will be greatly affected by factors that primarily involves how your baby is developing inside your womb.

You will experience unusual bodily changes that may also trigger certain emotional responses. In the beginning, you may feel that certain high while noticing the bump in your tummy growing with each passing day. However, your condition will also require that you get more nutritional value from the food that you take. It will also charge your body to require more rest than you normally provide it.

As your baby continues to develop, you will notice that your body features (hair, nails, skin) will show a variety of changes. Some women feel that they are at their best during this period. Some experience otherwise. Most women will notice that their skin cells need to be hydrated more frequently as your body is now providing for not just one but two persons.

Pregnancy Skin Care Product

Mothers need all the pampering that they can get. However, not everything that may be provided for you may be beneficial. There are certain diets, beauty regimen, as well as skin care products that you used to love that you may have to give up during pregnancy.

Here are some of the Pregnancy skin care products that you should stay away from:

  1. Nail Care Products. Most women like to flaunt fabulous nails. Though your nails are dead skin cells they may still be damaged with constant exposure to harmful chemicals found in some nail care products. Dibutyl phthalate, formaldehyde, toluene, and other nasty chemicals found in nail polish products and nail polish removers may pass through the pores of your skin and on your nail beds. These products also release toxic fumes, and constant exposure to them will pose danger to both you and your baby. It is a practical choice not to allow these harsh chemicals to touch your skin during your pregnancy, especially in the first trimester when the baby’s brain is starting to develop.
  2. Tanning Sprays. Spray-on tan formulas contain DHA (dihydroxyacetone), an element that is though considered safe for external use, may pose a potential danger when inhaled. Moreover, there are certain studies that indicated that DHA can cause primary DNA damage. Instead of allowing this harmful chemical, why not opt for the healthier alternative. Get the vitamin D that you and your baby need from the radiant glow of the sun. Sunbathe for about 15 minutes every day to get the essential vitamin needed for strong bones. Remember to put on the proper UVA and UVB protection and do not stay longer or after 9 am when the sun starts to shine its brightest.
  3. Skin Lighteners. Dark spots, which is also known as “pregnancy masks” often appear on the face due to hormonal imbalance. Even if the pigmentation may be too annoying for you, you should never attempt to use any skin lightener. This product usually contains a hormone disruptor called “Hydroquinone.” Such chemical has been linked to cancer and organ toxicity.
  4. Artificial Fragrances. These products may provide temporary scents that musk the body’s natural odor, but most of these products also contain a plasticizing agent known as phthalates. They are added to the fragrances to allow them to gel with the skin. Studies indicate that Phthalates cause birth defects and may affect the endocrine system.
  5. Hair Dyes. Many hair coloring products are formulated with carcinogenic chemicals, such as Arylamines and PPD (p-phenylenediamine). If you still think that a change in your hair color will lift your mood, opt for natural hair dye alternatives. (Is it okay if you link one of the articles to this article?)
  6. Parabens. If you are the kind of person who likes to read the labels before buying a product, you will know that parabens (also listed as one of these on product labels: methyl, propyl, butyl, and ethyl) are included in many personal care products.
  7. Chemical Sunscreen. Chemical sunscreens, either conventional or natural, may contain Oxybenzone (sometimes labeled as benzophenone). This chemical is actually linked to developmental and hormonal disruptions, thus should not be used. To protect your skin from the UV rays of the sun, look for mineral-based sunscreens that contain zinc oxide instead.
  8. Salicylic and Retinoids. These compounds are known to cause pregnancy complications and birth defects. Products with these chemicals are commonly used for acne treatments, exfoliation and as an additive to anti-aging products

Now that you know the products that you should NOT use on your skin, it is time to discover what you can USE to pamper yourself even while you are pregnant. Including these beauty routines will allow you to enjoy a more radiant skin without the guilt.

  1. Reduce unsightly stretch marks. Stretch marks are likely to form on your baby bump, and other parts of the body as your baby grows inside your belly. To lessen the appearance of stretch marks, make sure to eat healthy foods, always keep your body hydrated, and moisturize your skin throughout the day. Look for healthy alternatives as always.
  2. Control facial oil that may clog your skin pores. Look for products that will naturally remove excess oil and dirt on your skin without drying it.
  3. Practice the use of natural oils to enhance your psychological and physical well-being. There are pregnancy-safe options (spearmint, lavender, eucalyptus, etc.) that you may use to enhance your mood as well as increase your cognitive function.

We hope that this will help you have a more enjoyable journey to motherhood. As always, do your due diligence to read the label and learn more about the ingredients on the product labels that you are using or intend to use.

A Piece of the Puzzle (Recovery Thoughts Seven Months In)

Do you guys notice anything different about me? I’ve given myself a blog makeover and I gotta tell you guys, I’m loving it! I realized that my old format looks different on laptops vs phones vs tablets and sometimes made the font and layout different depending on your device so I decided it was time for some renovations. I also made some edits to my Facebook page and have been keeping up with my Instagram, as usual. Soon enough, I will get into the habit of tweeting but I’ve been off Twitter since my junior year of college so it’s a hard thing for me to get back into! Does anyone else have Twitter problems? I certainly do.

Anyways, the last month has been busy in the best kind of way. I’ve been settling into my own, all-mine apartment which still makes me feel like I’m on a vacation with myself. I’ve also been getting adjusted at work (side note: I love my job, I love my job, I love my job). I’ve been going for night-time walks, listening to lots of podcasts, watching lots of Netflix, rediscovering my love of cooking, reading, writing, exploring and generally just doing lots of things that make me feel fulfilled.

This past week marks my seventh month in recovery. Recovery hasn’t been at the forefront of my mind like it has been for the past few months. This is both good and bad- good because my life is getting bigger. It’s like my food and recovery and exercise thoughts were a thought bubble over my head that is slowly getting further and further away, crowded out by thoughts of self-care, writing, relationships and late-night ice cream endeavors. But in another way, I recognize that it may make it easier to slip into old behaviors and thought patterns if I’m not careful. So I’m being careful. Boy-in-a-germ-proof-bubble kind of careful. I try to make sure that I’m eating enough and taking care of myself and when I find that I have an ED thought or a body hate moment, I show myself compassion and gently direct myself back on the right path. Sometimes this is easy and sometimes it’s not. It’s always worth it.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about my recovery and my progress and my struggles. One early recovery memory has come back to me a few times over the past month. Let me just paint the picture here. It’s a chilly February morning. I’m driving to my internship at the hospital. Normally, this drive seems long and tiresome. Usually at this point, I’m already hoping that I would get out of the hospital a little bit early because the afternoon rut I always hit leaves me foggy-headed and exhausted. But this day in particular, I found myself singing along to the radio in my car. And this is not my normal, quiet kind of singing that I do so often with the folksy, sing-song-y music that I’m usually listening to. This is full-on, body-moving, running-out-of-breath singing along to a Taylor Swift song that came up on my iPod. I was bouncing around and then laughing at the silliness of the whole situation- actually laughing, out loud, at myself.

It wasn’t until later that week that I realized why that moment felt so refreshing and real. It was because for the first time in a long time, I actually had energy. I was actually meeting my body’s needs and not using all my energy on an extensive work out in the afternoon. My body was actually being taken care of in a way it hadn’t been for years. I was dancing, shaking, moving, singing in a beautiful, revitalizing way without realizing what a wonderful accomplishment that was in and of itself. It took me days to realize that that silly, happy moment was actually representative of the progress I had made.

That is what recovery is like.

As I move further along into my recovery, I find myself passing these milestone moments and not realizing until later. Not even always milestones- just moments that show how much progress I’ve made since I started this process. In the beginning, everything was a big THING. A few weeks into recovery, I went out for a milkshake-and-french-fry snack in the middle of the day. MILKSHAKES. In. the. Middle. Of. The. Day. This is groundbreaking stuff people. And it was a THING. All day, I thought about this huge recovery win. And it was. In the beginning everything was a huge win and I don’t have any regrets about that. In the beginning, these things need to be celebrated and it is something to be excited about. Beating those fear foods becomes an event and that is a-okay with me. Making a breakfast date with my partner (can I start just calling him Charles now? Yes? Good!) specifically to eat French toast was understandable and it was exciting. But now, the focus has come less off the food and more on the living.

I still have recovery wins- when I have an unexpected afternoon snack, when I bought Oreos for the first time in years last week (!!!), when I let myself lay on the couch afterThese things are still exciting to me- how could they not be after the box that my eating disorder trapped me in? But they’re not the only things I think about anymore. I’m learning tolive a much bigger life and embrace all the bumps and the laughs and the changes and the anxieties and the beauty. I try to show up to this life and engage in it as much as possible. And through all this living, I sometimes forget to celebrate all the things that would have made me through myself a small party in the past. But that’s okay, too. I don’t feel like I’m missing out. Rather, I accept those things as part of this new, happier, healthier, greater life I’m living. A piece of the puzzle.work and just be lazy, something that my ED would have never allowed me to do. Last weekend, I went to a lake house in Maine with my Charles’ family and his grandfather made sausage and biscuits for breakfast, which Charles has told me about multiple times over the past few years. And instead of making myself something else for breakfast (even though I really wanted the biscuits) or eating it and having a fit of anxiety later or denying breakfast altogether, I was able to enjoy the moment with his family and eat. No guilt, no shame, no anxiety. I was able to engage in life without feeling trapped by my eating disorder. (PS later that day, I had a cookie straight out of the oven when his grandmother offered me one- two wins in one day!)

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Link Love: September Favorites

Happy September! I can’t believe it’s already September. Where does the time go? I feel like it’s been awhile (at least a couple weeks) since I had a regular post on here and I assure you, I will be back to regular programming soon. Between my job, adjusting to the move and the physical therapy I’ve been doing for my knees, I haven’t had much time to write lately. I have about three posts in the works- here’s hoping I finish one soon! (PS as always, I’ve managed to keep up with Instagram- if you’re not already following me, check it out HERE)


It’s been awhile since I did Link Love- I got into the pattern of doing it on the first of the month but August 1 was the day I moved into my new apartment and blogging just wasn’t happening  that day or the days leading up to it (I kind of waited until the last 48 hours to pack my life’s belongings up neatly into boxes…oops). So instead, I have two month’s worth of links to share with all of y’all! Hope you enjoy them and if you have any thoughts or comments or questions or general merriment to share, please leave them in the comments below! Happy reading 🙂

Why it’s so hard for white people to talk about racism
This is a great article about racism in the US. There are so many people I’ve met in my life who try to deny the presence of systemic racism in our country and it makes me frustrated that people can’t talk about it in a reasonable, adult way. I also just need to share the tweet below that so profoundly describes white privilege (don’t even get me started on this Colin Kaepernick situation).


There is no social justice without bodies
Linda Bacon, the pioneer of the Health at Every Size movement and author of the book, wrote a great piece about weightism on the HAES blog this month. Linda Bacon is knowledgable, progressive and all-around amazing. 

When will food issues be on politician’s plates?
Food issues- sustainable agriculture, food insecurity and anti-hunger initiatives- are all things I am very passionate about (hence the reason I have the job that I do) but they are issues that politicians rarely address. I met a woman running for State Representative here in New Hampshire who advocates for sustainable agriculture as one of her main issues and it was so refreshing and exciting to see a political who is passionate about the work that is so important to our future.

Body acceptance rises among women
!!!!!! Finally some good news. This makes me so happy. Let’s take our bodies BACK.

We’re so confused: The problem with health and exercise studies
As a dietitian, the amount of nutrition information on the internet is truly terrifying. If I had a nickel for every time someone read that “you should eat XYZ everyday” or that “ABC is the new superfood/magic potion/answer to all of life’s questions”, I would be a freaking millionaire.

What to do with those leftover meal plan swipes
Back to school seemed like a good time to talk about food insecurity on college campuses. Most people don’t think about hunger on college campuses but it is very real. And in many cases, dining halls give you more swipes than you can use in a semester. What a wonderful solution to a big problem!

The problem with thin privilege
THIS IS SO GOOD. Thin privilege, body shaming, feminism, social justice all in one place. PLUS Kelsey Miller is amazing and you should all read her book Big Girl if you’re looking to see why you should give up dieting for good!

That’s all for now! Like I said, please feel free to leave any comments below and have a beautiful first day of September!

Lost and found.

I got lost on my run today. I guess that’s what I get for turning down a random path I found in the woods (it was well-marked parents, don’t worry). I ended up on some road and had no idea how to get home but I got there eventually. Here’s the thing about getting lost: sometimes it’s fun. If you have the time and no place to be (and it’s not a hot July day), then it’s pretty nice actually. It’s not so much getting lost as it is wandering and just wandering can be good. It can be refreshing. You almost always learn something new after. But sometimes, if you’ve been in the car for hours or you’re hungry or tired or driving or running or moving, it is exhausting. You just want to get to the end point and you just can’t get there. It is the best feeling when things start to make sense again, you recognize where you’re going and you know you’re close.

I have been lost for quite some time in an abstract, metaphysical kinda way. For the majority of the last four years, perhaps longer, I have been lost. I was riddled by uncertainty and insecurity, a recipe for disaster. I felt like I just couldn’t get to where I wanted to be. College is supposedly the best time of our lives, but it wasn’t for me and I’m not ashamed to say it. To be clear, I don’t regret my college choice. I have only the best things to say about URI and I love the people I met there. It’s not about where I was because I think it would have happened anywhere.

If you were privy to the inner workings of my life the last few years (bless those who were), you know that it’s been more than a little bit rough for me. I’ve struggled a lot. I had some good times in college of course but I also had some really bad times. I went down roads that I hope to never go down again. I spent days where I was so stuck in my own head and so very uncomfortable with myself that all I could do was cry. I never fit the typical college kid profile. I have no desire to drink until I can’t see anymore or have sex with strangers or spend days hungover talking about what a great night it was. I didn’t skip classes. I got a stomachache every time I went out to a party or to the bar. It just didn’t appeal to me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had some of these stereotypical college kid experiences. I’ve done the college kid thing. I’ve drank more than I should have, I’ve crashed house parties, I’ve worn the short skirts and put too much make up on. It’s not that I never tried it. I did and sometimes it was fun, but mostly it was just okay. It wasn’t me and it never was something I was excited to do. All of freshmen year and even sometimes beyond that, I dreaded the weekends because I didn’t want to do what everyone else was doing but I wasn’t comfortable enough with myself to do what I really wanted to do.

I’ve had this really awful habit almost my whole life of comparing myself to other people. What they’re doing, what they look like, what they like and care about. All during college, people were more interested in what other people were wearing than what they were saying. They wanted to talk about plans for the weekend and I wanted to talk about plans for the future of the world, essentially. I wanted to talk about life and it was hard for me to find college kids who really want to sit down and talk about life and politics and saving the Earth and why we’re even here on this planet, which is what I think about. Of course, I understand that this isn’t what most college kids want to think about. There are very few years in our lives where it’s socially acceptable to wake up drunk and to stay up all night and to experiment with activities that may not exactly be legal. I get that. And I’m good with that. I’m not judging this lifestyle even a little bit. If it makes you happy, I wholeheartedly encourage it. But it didn’t make me happy and I didn’t enjoy it, not really. It felt like a chore.

I realize this makes me sound like the least exciting person ever and that’s okay with me. I’ve fully accepted my role as an 80-year-old woman in a (almost) 22-year-old body. I’m okay with this. But it took a VERY long time for me to be okay with this. I think I pretended for far too long that I enjoyed being a partying, fun college student. So much so that by the time I graduated, I was over it. I spent the last semester of college going out very seldom, and normally spending Friday nights on the couch with a glass of wine with two of my roommates. Honestly, that was better than any bar/party experience I had ever had. I realize this would bore some people to tears but it did the three of us just fine.

The habit of comparing myself to others is a habit I am finally, finally starting to grow out of. It doesn’t really matter what anyone else is doing. If they want to do the same things as I do, that’s okay. If they don’t, that’s fine too. My body is my own and it doesn’t need to look like anyone else’s (it took me extra long to learn that lesson). I have an unnatural love of Fleetwood Mac and Simon and Garfunkel. I genuinely enjoy NPR. I just spent $25 on a drill so I can make my own compost bin but I would hardly ever spend $25 on an item of clothing. I asked for a book on fermentation for my birthday.  I am a tree-hugging, nature-loving, liberal feminist who is compassionate to the world. I like reading and writing and sitting and being. That’s just who I am.

I was lost during college. I felt like I just kept moving, I wanted to slow down, I wanted to get there. I wanted to be the person I wanted to be and because I was surrounded by people who were different, I didn’t trust who I wanted to be. I didn’t trust my thoughts or my opinions, I didn’t really feel like they counted.  I don’t feel that way anymore. I picked up from college, plopped myself down in the middle of New Hampshire and I’m doing just fine. I spend my days at the internship and my nights doing work for it but it’s things that I care about it and I don’t view it as a chore (unless I’m grumpy and tired). I’m surrounded nature and people who care about the same things as I do. I voice my opinions and I’m not riddled by anxiety about whether people feel the same way or agree.

It’s a very strange thing when you’ve been lost for a long time and things start to make sense again. It’s an even stranger thing when your life starts to make sense again. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt so comfortable being myself. It’s been so long that I actually question when the last time I was so completely comfortable was. That makes me sad. It makes me feel like I missed out on what could have been really fun years. But it was a journey and like my dad told me yesterday, “it’s not where you’ve been it’s where you are.” And where I am now is really, really good. If I hadn’t spent the last few years lost, I would never have gotten to know myself so well. I think that it’s something I had to go through and though I would never want to do it again and I hope I never do, I’m glad I did. I came out on the other side better than I was when I went into it.

I’m glad that I know myself as well as I do and to be honest, I’m really freaking proud of myself to have gotten to this point. In all fairness, I did not do this on my own. I couldn’t have gotten here without my friends and family, whether they knew they were helping or not. And to be completely honest, I don’t think I would have gotten here without a few years with a good therapist. To be even vaguely comfortable in your own skin is a very new concept for me. It makes me realize how very uncomfortable I’ve been these last few years. I’m not done with the whole journey yet and I know that. Of course, there are still the unwelcome and unexpected self-hate thoughts that pop in sometimes. But I’m getting better at slamming the door in their face and that’s a pretty incredible feeling.

Oh, the thoughts you have when you get lost on a run.

23 Years, 23 Things

Today is my 23rd birthday- it’s not a milestone, it’s not a monumental one by any means but I find myself feeling more thankful for this birthday than I did for the last few. My heart over the past few weeks and months have been full, overflowing even. Here’s 23 things I’m grateful for (in no particular order).

  1. All of the wonderful, loving, kind, funny, generous, gracious people in my life. My mom and dad for being my best friends always. My step parents for their support. My sister for being the coolest oldest sister ever. My best friends for being the best people I know and keeping my head above water on days where I’m struggling. My partner for making me laugh while also making sure I feel loved and protected- and his incredible family for graciously welcoming me in over the past four years. I’m thankful for all the people I interact with on a daily basis, who keep me going, keep me laughing, keep me loving.
  2.  RECOVERY. Obviously. The past year has been unreal. I hardly recognize myself anymore. Sometimes when I’m reaching for the ice cream scoop at night or picking up an unexpected IMG_6201snack before work, I allow myself a few minutes to marvel at who I’ve become. Someone who’s unafraid of food. Someone who doesn’t force herself to exercise every day. Someone who can fully embrace life and can live spontaneously, without worrying about what and when she’ll eat, where and when she’ll exercise, if she’ll be “safe”. I’m so proud of that girl.
  3. Clean water. Such a simple, often overlooked thing but I am thankful each and every day that I have access to clean water- for drinking, for showering, for brushing my teeth. It’s such a simple thing but it’s something that so many people live without and something I remind myself to be thankful for daily.
  4. A new, full-time job at the New Hampshire Food Bank where I’ll be doing community outreach (working with SNAP, Summer Meals Program and Cooking Matters) and helping people who are food insecure. I am so excited about this position and feel grateful that this opportunity came up so soon after completing my dietetic internship. My start date is in a week and a half- wish me luck!
  5. A cozy, bright one-bedroom apartment in New Hampshire that is 100% all mine. After my internship year, I decided that I needed some time to myself to continue down this road of self discovery. My plans vacillated between a few different options, including living with my partner, but I realized I wanted (and needed) some time to myself in a place that I wanted to be before committing to that kind of change. Putting myself first was a very new feeling for me and I gotta tell ya, so far it feels good! I’m moving in Monday and I can’t wait to make it all my own.
  6. The opportunity to work with my big sister this summer! During the in between months going from
    my internship to my job, I’ve been working in a cute little shop that my sister manages. This marks the most time I’ve spent with her since before she left for college (in 2007) and it’s been so nice to spend time with her, her husband and her puppies. I’m so grateful for this time and so sad about not being able to see her everyday or hang out at her house or hunt for Pokemon together after work (she got me hooked guys). She’s so cool and conducts herself with a grace and style that I just do not have. I’m so lucky to have her. Also- she crafts some very cool things and has a cute little Etsy shop. My favorite are her Payne Killers which are aromatherapy scented pillows that are wonderful for recovery aches and pains. If you want to see her stuff, check out her site HERE.
  7. The democratic system. I, like many others, have been glued to my TV each night this week watching the Democratic National Convention and last week, I watched bits and pieces of the
    RNC. I have unabashedly been a Bernie fan from the beginning- well, that’s not true. I was a Hillary fan right out of the gate. But once Bernie came on the scene, he had my political heart. I have never seen a candidate that I agree so strongly with, nor have I ever seen such a genuine, down-to-earth, bullshit-calling  candidate (although it’s worth mentioning, I have only become wildly interested in politics over the last few years). I was blessed to be in New Hampshire during the political season- and had the opportunity to see Bernie (three times, not that I’m bragging)and 14 of the 16 Republican candidates. That being said, I was immensely proud and happy for our country to finally nominate a woman (a progressive, experienced, passionate, smart woman at that) for a major party presidential candidate. Even though I cried when Bernie gave his speech this week, I got chills watching Hillary accept the official nomination last night….but I’m still not taking this bumper sticker off my car.
  8. My two months home in between my internship and moving out for real. It’s been two months of family, good friends, relaxation, stress (the good kind), gin cocktails, eating dinner outside on summer nights, puppies (not mine, unfortunately), journaling and lots and lots of ice cream.
  9. A warm bed- in fact, more than one. So many people go to bed every night without their own bed or without a bed at all. There are so many families, living in the US and elsewhere, who live with no privacy and no space to call their own. For the last 23 years, I have always had my own room. After my parent’s got divorced, I had two beds all to myself. I still do. Without my own space, I wouldn’t be able to relax and read or concentrate on my writing or be able to watch as many episodes of Parks and Rec as I wanted to late into the night.
  10. EARTH. I got a love of nature from my parents and it runs deep. I love everything about the Earth- the stars, the sky, the trees, the grass, the dirt, the creatures. During my internship, I would say a little prayer out loud to myself on my way to work- a habit I’ve gotten out of now, but really need to get back into for my own peace of mind. The first thing I always gave thanks for was the Earth and all the things it has brought to my life. Part of the reason I’m moving to NH is for the hiking, the way everything is spaced out, the trees, the trails, the lakes. All that good Earth hiding away up there.
  11. Coffee. Coffee, coffee, coffee. Coffee with milk, coffee with cream. Coffee ice cream. Coffee gives me life. Note: I used to NEVER let myself have cream in my coffee but man sometimes some cream in your coffee really hits the spot.
  12. Wine. Wine, wine, wine. White wine, red wine, or a nice rose (my personal favorite). Cheap wine, expensive wine. Wine makes my already wonderful life just a tad better. Note: I used to avoid drinking alcohol to avoid the extra calories but now I am unashamed to have a glass of wine at the end of the day. Not that I’m some alcohol fiend but still, a good glass of wine every once in a while is quite lovely.
  13. My health and my access to healthcare. Ironically, my body had less aches and pains than it did last birthday when I was beating it into the ground. Eventually, obsessive exercise will catch up with you, as it did with me which has resulted in all sorts of knee, hip and foot pain. However, even though I’m achy, my body is recovering from all the hell I put it through over the past 7 years and I’m thankful for that. I’m also thankful for my access to healthcare (not something everyone has, unfortunately) and the doctors who are and have treated me.
  14. Similarly, THERAPY. I love therapy. I think everyone should go to therapy (if it is available for them). I left my therapist in May when I left New Hampshire but am hoping to see her again soon. Even if I feel like I’m doing much (much) better than I was in the days I was seeing her, there’s still little pieces of things that come up where therapy really makes a difference. Seriously, go to therapy. It’s the best.
  15. I already mentioned him above but- my partner, Charles, is one of the best people in my life. I tend not to talk about him too much on my blog since I don’t think he feels great about being discussed in the big blog world but it’s my birthday and I’ll talk about him if I want to! Charles makes me laugh, he reminds me not to take life so seriously (something that I work on nearly daily). Throughout the last 4 years, he has seen me at my absolute lowest point. He saw the raw, real, miserable part of me that I tried to disguise to most other people in my life. And he saw me through it and loves me just the same. Our relationship has gotten stronger and simpler over the past few months and I’m so thankful for that.
  16. I have never, not ever, had to worry about where my next meal is coming from. Food and I have a complicated relationship but food insecurity has never been a part of my story. I’m thrilled to have accepted a job that will help people get access to food.
  17. My uncle’s healing and recovery! For almost 2 and half months now, my uncle has been in the hospital after a whole bunch of complicated, scary health problems. I am so happy that he is finally getting better and that I’ve been able to visit him twice now and see him on the upswing. Even though it’s been a long process, it’s so great to see him getting back to his old self.
  18. Books. Obviously. All books- fiction, juicy beach reads, memoirs, biographies. I’m particularly thankful for books by funny women like Amy Poelher, Tina Fey and Chelsea Handler (books I also re-read during moves to alleviate stress). There’s nothing I like better than curling up on a couch and getting sucked into a new book. It’s my favorite way to travel.
  19. The recovery community online! Honestly, I’m not sure I would have gotten this far without the community I’ve discovered. As I’ve mentioned before, I relied (rely) on the Minnie Maud method for recovery and at first, it took a lot of support and reliance on the people who were using/have used MM to recover. I’m now part of many different recovery/body positive forums that I use for inspiration, support and compassionate understanding. If you’re looking for extra support or want to hear more about things like this, please feel free to comment or email me at [email protected]!
  20. I’m equally thankful for the recovery and body positive accounts that I follow and connect with on Instagram. Some of my favorites include- @bodyposipanda, @nourishandeat, @thefuckitdiet,@thelifeofandie, @goofy_ginger and @dothehotpants- all of whom I’ve connected with in some way or another and have immense respect and gratitude for. Seriously, if you’re looking for badass, uplifting and refreshing badass women, there you have it. There are lots of other accounts that keep me motivated and show me love and support on the daily. If you’re not already following me, check it out here!
  21. The ability to be present for my own life. Since I started recovery, I realized how many times I was
    absent to my own life and that makes me so sad to realize. I choose not to feel sorry or sad for myself, and instead choose to show up everyday to my own life.
  22. The people who read this blog! When I first started blogging, I was a bit (a lot) uncomfortable with both the process and myself in general. I had always narrated my life in my head, like I was writing a novel or magazine article, so starting a blog was natural in some ways but also took a leap of faith. I was nervous to put myself out there but have been met with warmth and love and support, all of which I cannot thank you all for enough.
  23. This past year of unequivocal self-discovery. I’ve learned more about myself this year than I have in my whole life. It’s so empowering and makes me a more confident and happier person each and everyday. I’m so incredibly, wonderfully grateful for all I’ve learned about myself and all the ways in which I’ve learned to love myself.

I have so much goodness in my life. Honestly, I feel guilty sometimes for all that I have. There are so many people who have less. It was a full and grateful heart that I say thank you to all of you who keep up with my blog and thank you for reading this today. Happy weekend my friends!

A Celebration of Fathers

A pause on the body positive, recovery things for a big Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there! As I am wont to do, I’m going to use this here blog as a platform to honor two of the most important people in my life.


My step dad came into my life when I was 8 years old and even though we had somewhat of  a rocky start, I am extraordinarily lucky to have him in my life. He has always supported me in whatever I do. He regularly reminds me how proud he is of me and what I’m doing. And there is no one who embraces family quite like he does. He shows his love for his family- his parents, his sisters, his sons, nephews and niece- often and sincerely. I’m so lucky to have that kind of love in my life and so thankful for his unending support.

As for my dad…

The very first thing I can remember in my life is of my dad, coming into my room when I was standing up in my crib, crying. I remember him finding my pacifier so I could go back to sleep. Although it had been happening for many months before, that’s the first time I actively remember my dad taking care of me and it hasn’t stopped since. As I write this, he is in the kitchen making me a salmon burger since I just got home from work (note: I am not writing this on actual Father’s Day!)

My dad is the coolest person I know. He taught me how to fish (even if I still make him worm my hook and take the fish off because it freaks me out). He passed on his aptitude for science and his love of running (which is currently on pause for the sake of recovery). He passed on parts of his dry, sarcastic sense of humor onto me and my sister. He introduced me to Fleetwood Mac, Simon and Garfunkel, Billy Joel which continue to be my all-time favorites. (He also gave me his finicky digestive system, horrendous sinuses and terribly wide fingernails, but I’m not talking about those things).

My dad was made to raise two daughters. I think it’s probably hard for some dads to raise two girls but man, this guy nailed it (in my humble opinion). My dad has supported my sister and I, always.  He is constantly reminding us that he is proud of us no matter what we choose to do. He reminds me that all he wants is for me to be happy, regardless of what I choose to do or where I choose to go in my life.

My dad is non-judgmental and full of compassion. He taught me how to important it is to care about the world around me. He instilled in me a deep love of the Earth and nature and trees and dirt and stars. He set up his telescope when we were younger so he could show us the stars and planets in the night sky. He brought us on vacations that allowed us to see new things and explore nature. He took us to Los Angelos and brought me to Yogurtland three times that week when I became obsessed with it. I’ve spent many-a-week with him at lake houses in the summer time, sitting on the dock talking about life after making burgers and corn on the cob for dinner. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

For the first several years of my life, I was told often how much I looked and acted like my mom (which is a compliment in its own right). Once I went away to college, I discovered new pieces of myself- new passions, new ideas, new interests- and suddenly, everyone was telling me how much like my dad I am and that, my friends, is the compliment that I wear most proudly. There’s a certain part of me that I think only my dad can understand. It’s the part that I don’t think either of us could put into words but he just gets me on a cellular level and I’m so immensely thankful for that. There’s not a lot of women my age who could say that their dad is one of their best friends, but I can confidently say that I am one who can. My dad is the coolest, tallest, baldest person I know and I’m so infinitely grateful for him.

To all the fathers out there: thank you. For fixing the things that break, for the vacations, the meals, the trips to the movies and the park. For cheering at the sports we were never good at. For the support. For the love. Thank you.

An ode to mothers

I never knew my grandfathers. But  while my parents were at work when I was growing up, I spent my days with one of my two beautiful, strong, funny grandmothers. Both my grandmothers have seen some tough things in their days- and both of them have remained strong throughout and have kept their sense of humor. I learned a lot by watching them- how to keep my faith, how to laugh about what you can’t control, how to tell it like it is. Thanks to my father’s mother, I learned how to play roulette at age 5 and spent many hours of my childhood spinning that little metal ball in the roulette wheel. She played Monopoly with us, convinced us that there was a real genie living in her bottle in the kitchen (twenty years later, Gram, I know it was your voice all along!). She let me eat three cheese-filled Oscar Meyer weiners while I watched the old Alice in Wonderland movie at her house (the one with real people, not the cartoon). If we were good, she let us pick out two things from the dollar store, which resulting in a weird collection of little cat figurines in my room. My mother’s mother let me play her piano and pretended like I was good, even when I wasn’t. She took me to swimming lessons and picked me up from preschool. She showed me both how to be a good wife and how strong love can be- she steadily took me to visit my grandfather everyday after he got into a car accident when I was a baby and remained hospitalized. She took me out to lunch and always let me get dessert. She brought my sister and I to the mall, where we tried on silly hats and laughed so hard our stomachs hurt. They continue to be two of the women I admire most in the world.

I’m lucky to have been raised by these two women. And I’m lucky, too, to have my stepmom, who is the exact opposite of every evil stepmom in a Disney movie. She is kind and funny and is always willing to be my own personal nurse when I have a problem. She helped my sister learn how to sew and let me play with all the scraps of fabric, which is all I really wanted to do. She taught me to wash mirrors with the lights off so that you don’t get streaks and she can get out literally ANY stain (trust me, I’ve tested the limits). She helped me when my anxiety was too much to bare and empathized with me during one of the lowest points of my life. Plus, she makes my dad happy too so it’s a win-win for us all.

And my mom- I’ve looked up to my mom for as long as I can remember. She’s been my best friend, my cheerleader, my doctor, my driver, my teacher, my chef, the one who sang to me every night growing up and who tucked me in far after it was cool to have your mom tuck you in. She planned my birthday parties and helped me with my homework. After my parents got divorced, she worked full time, drove a 45 minute commute every day and still made my sister and I dinner every night (which I marvel at, now that I’m older). She held my hand at the doctor’s office and let me eat blueberry poptarts for breakfast. She let me stay up for Survivor and made all holidays special. She took April vacation off every year so we could spend time together, always taking a day to go shop at the outlets and eat lobster rolls. She lets me borrow her shoes. She always encouraged me to do my best and never made me feel like my best wasn’t good enough. She continues to be the first person I call when something goes wrong, when I need advice, when I feel like the world is not on my side. She was the first one to point out to me in the beginning of my eating disorder that what I was doing wasn’t healthy. She helped me get help. She encouraged me and checked on me, even when I was annoyed that she did. She can tell, without even talking to me, when I am sad or anxious or stressed. She has an insane mother’s intuition that continues to boggle my mind.

Over the last 22 and a half years, I’ve learned a lot from her. I’ve learned that it’s okay to eat apple pie for breakfast. I learned how to make a macaroni salad that will make the neighbors jealous.  I learned the names of flowers and birds and spend parts of my childhood with pressed up against the window with binoculars, looking at her bird book. I learned how to dress like an adult and how to wear socks that aren’t gym socks. I learned that it’s important to write thank you notes and to always keep Dove dark chocolates in the kitchen. I learned how to make the best waffles in the entire world (and I’ll go to the mat on that one). I learned that looking young isn’t always a bad thing. I learned how to be compassionate and genuinely care about other people. I learned how valuable being nice to people is. I learned that if you believe everything happens for a reason, then eventually you really will find a reason.

I’m so thankful for these women. The women who raised me, the women who made me. I continue to admire their strength, their humor, their goodness. And I’m lucky enough to have lots of other mothers in my life- aunts who aren’t related by blood, best friends’ mothers who became “second moms” in my childhood, my godmother, women who I’ve met in my adult life who’ve acted like a mom for me. To all these beautiful women and to all the mothers out there, I wish you a big, giant, over-the-top happy mother’s day. Thanks for inspiring.

Why we need to stop wasting our time with weight loss

Hey hi hello friends! I feel like it’s been awhile since I’ve posted on here- things have been quite busy over in internship land. I am about two weeks away from being done with my internship which means I am two weeks away from becoming eligible to be a full-fledged registered dietitian, YAY! If I’m going to be honest with you, a career as a registered dietitian is something I grapple with nearly daily. I never, ever want to be a weight loss dietitian. I do not ever want to counsel people to lose weight- it just feels too hypocritical to me. Plus when you look at research looking at the effects of weight loss and health…it’s really not the holy grail it was once considered to be. More on that later.

Given that I’m almost done, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I’m going to do once I’m done. I have a little bit of a buffer period where I’ll move back home for a few months and work for my sister and get all my doctors appointments out of the way to make sure my health is improving (fingers crossed!) but come fall, I’m going to be out in this big wide world and I’m going to need a job and a purpose.

Last week, I was talking to a woman in the hospital where I’ve been interning who was 87 years old. I went in to chat with her about the (medically necessary) low-sodium diet she was prescribed. As I started talking to her and asking about her usual intake, she told me that she had been on Weight Watchers for the last 20 years and eats mostly their frozen, pre-packaged meals. To which my only response was: ick! (in my head so as not to offend this little old lady).

Weight loss is so unanimously sought after that this nearly 90 year old woman was still trying to chase it. In fact, she was chasing it in detriment to her health (because those frozen meals were not really what she needed for her condition). Which got me thinking- do I really want to be like that? Do I really want to be on my death bed but be able to say that I’ve dieted for the last 20 years? Do I really want to be laying sick in the hospital but be able to say that I lost a couple pounds? That I’ve followed “diet” rules for the majority of my life? Will that mean anything in the end?

Or do I want to be like the other woman I saw last week- who was 90 years old, had no significant medical problems, who had zero interest in changing her eating habits at all because she’s going eat how she wants to eat? The lady who was eating pizza for lunch and potato chips for dinner, who had no illness to speak of? That lady was killin’ it. And to be honest, I would much rather be like her. I would so much rather live my life and eat what I want than dedicate my life to following diet rules.

There are so many talented, smart, passionate, genuine women who are wasting their time trying to lose weight or look a certain way. And it is so sad to me. We are capable of SO MUCH MORE than weight loss. In the end, I would rather be remembered for the good I did in this world than the body I inhabited. I am forever grateful to my body for moving me through life, for keeping me going even when it was starved, for being the vessel that carries me. And for the first time in years, I’m not going to try to fight my body into looking a certain way but rather accept it where it is and continue to be grateful for what it does. I’m slowly learning that there’s beauty in making peace with your body and not trying to change it. And what’s more, if I’m not focused on my body, I can be focused on the things I really do care about in this life. I can focus on the big things, the important things rather than spending my time in front of a mirror scrutinizing my body. I’m learning through my recovery that the brains in my head and my passion for life is much more important than my ability to control what I eat and how I look.

I’ve spent a lot of years trying to change my body or comparing it to other people and I have no desire to spend another minute engaging in these comparisons. I don’t know what I’m going to do after I’m done with this internship. But I do know that I want to help people be empowered by their lives and encourage people to live BIG- and not to restrict or reduce their life down to counting calories or minutes at the gym. For the first time in my life, I’m realizing that I’m capable of so much more than I ever thought. And for anyone out there who continues to struggle (whether you have an eating disorder or not)- YOU ARE CAPABLE OF SO MUCH MORE THAN YOU THINK. I promise. Even if you can’t see it yet. I promise.

Looking for ourselves in old photos

This past week, I’ve found myself looking at old pictures of me. Pictures of me in college, pictures of me at the beach, pictures of me at my sister’s wedding, pictures of me at my graduation. In all this pictures, I am smiling, looking happy, taking photos with all my family, laughing with my friends and I looked back at these photos and I felt…

Awful. Terrible. Ashamed. Self-conscious. Sad.

In all this pictures, I weigh less than I do right now. Most of these pictures were taken in the span of time I was at my lowest weight and the ones that weren’t were when I was at a weight that was still too low for my body. And right now, I weigh more than I ever have in my life (I can’t say that definitively because I don’t own a scale or weigh myself but I can tell you with pretty much absolute certainty that it’s true). I don’t look like I do in those pictures, at least not to me. I look nearly unrecognizable to my disordered eyes. My belly has some squish, my bum is ever-expanding and my first reaction when I saw these pictures was I want to look like that again. 

But here is the thing: that’s not true. I don’t want to look like that again. Because when I looked like that, I was waging a war inside my head. I was exhausted, mentally and physically. I was too busy counting calories and planning workouts to enjoy the beach or the time with my friends or the party. Wherever I was, I wasn’t really there. I was off in my own little world, a world filled with self-hate and calories and meal planning and workouts- a world that no one should ever have to live in.

As I looked at these pictures, I thought to myself: if I looked like this right now, how would my life be different? The answer: it wouldn’t. My life wouldn’t suddenly become better. I would still be a student, finishing up her dietetic internship and getting ready to launch into the real world in a few months. I would still be living in this same apartment, driving the same car, have the same friends. All my relationships- with my family, with my friends, with my partner- would be exactly the same, arguably better because I more willingly engage in conversation when my head isn’t swirling with ED thoughts. I would still be a book enthusiast, a feminist and advocate for equality, a coffee shop explorer, a Bernie Sanders and lefty politics supporter, a lover of all things Earth and an admirer of funny women; I would still drink tea in bed every night and listen to podcasts and watch Jeopardy and like nothing more than a night alone with a glass of wine and a good movie in bed. (And in case anybody was wondering, yes I am living the life of a 65-year-old woman in a 22-year-old body). All of these things would be same if I was that smaller size again. My position in life wouldn’t change.

If I were that size again, I would be in exactly the same place but. I would still feel trapped, imprisoned in my own head. I wouldn’t feel this free. I wouldn’t be able to eat ice cream every day. I wouldn’t be able to reconnect with all the foods that remind me of childhood, that I deprived myself of for years. I wouldn’t be able to read and write and daydream in the afternoon because I would be forcing myself to complete an excessive workout. I wouldn’t have time to spend with the things that I’m passionate about, the things that make my soul sing. My body would be smaller, but my life would be smaller too.

Here is one of the latest photos of me, taken last weekend right before a date night. Enjoying the space I’m taking up, embracing my recovery body and excited about life. If you’re in recovery, I urge you to think of not just how you looked in old photos but how trapped you felt felt. Think of not just the weight you’ve gained, but the life and the freedom and the ability to enjoy life. So do I want to look like I used to? You know, I think I’m actually okay here.