Elephant Journal Writing Academy Assignment #1: Write about something vulnerable.

Well, shit. This should be quite easy for me. I am actually an open book! Always have been. People often talk about being open as courageous and brave. I personally think that this rings true for many. But not for me. I was most definitely born this way (thanks, Momma). But now, as I sit here, a bit overwhelmed by this writing prompt, I realize I have stumbled upon one of those moments where I jump into the unknown. I’m quite good at that, once I gently acknowledge and calm my fearful perfectionistic voices for a bit. This new adventure, of being open through words on paper for strangers to read, is new and a bit terrifying. So, deep breath… time to leap.

After much contemplation about where to even begin, I am choosing to lead with my identity as a licensed psychotherapist. I became a therapist in order to understand my own life, to heal my inner child, and to hopefully help others. I saw my first therapist my junior year of high school, thanks to a concerned friend and her father. I was diagnosed with Anorexia Nervosa, and while my first therapist was not the “right” fit, my second therapist was life-changing. Months into our work together, I had the realization during one particular session that I wanted to be in her position someday, healthy and recovered, supporting others struggling with disordered eating and self hate.

My path to recovery has been long and complex. Deeply ingrained beliefs as well as familial and societal messages are stubborn foes. Infusing love and radical acceptance into one’s daily self talk and overall belief system takes time and determination. My dream to become a therapist, along with some unexpected twists and career turns along the way provided me the tools and life experiences to truly step into a deep space of loving and healing.

A second piece of my identity is as a modern dancer. I feel fortunate that my eating disorder was not fueled from pressure in my dance world, which is pretty remarkable. I grew up in a supportive, body positive dance atmosphere infused with magic, imagination, discipline, collaboration, creativity, self-discovery and self-empowerment. Being unique was celebrated. I cannot even imagine if I had grown up in a competition-based dance studio, or if I had stayed with gymnastics instead of pursuing dance. A special shout out to Lorrie Keller, Artistic Director of StarDanceSwan Children’s Dance Company in Oklahoma, for instilling all of these gifts within me. Oh boy, have they continued to spark glorious moments, and I am still connected to Lorrie.

Even with this positive dance community consuming a large part of my life from the age of 7 to 15, genetics, personality traits, and environment still were powerful enough to stir up an eating disorder. As many others who have struggled, there are often memorable moments that spark the disorder into full throttle. Some of mine were a restrictive “diet” before prom, as well as a comment made by a human who would later tell me that his comments were out of frustration from not being able to date me. Wow, was that a trip to hear.

We live in a society fixated on the idea that looking a certain way leads to happiness. And that “certain way” very much depends on what society deems to be the correct way! Yikes. Thinness is often equated with happiness, success, beauty, popularity. And yet, our body weight is strongly determined by genetics and lifestyle habits that begin when we are young humans dependent upon others to show us the way. I’m thrilled there is a body positive movement that is gaining momentum, and there is much conversation about how health and weight are not mutually exclusive. A special shout out to Sonya Renee Taylor and that incredible book of hers, “The Body is Not an Apology.”

I learned from a young age that being thin was valued in my world, no matter the cost. The lineage of eating disorders on my mother’s side of the family is strong. I realized I had to get my shit together after my eccentric aunt whom I adored committed suicide. My cousin mailed some of my aunt’s journal entries shortly after her death; I gasped at the eerie similarities in our writing, much of which focused on our self worth being attached to a number on the scale. This was a wake-up call for me to continue healing and learning how to love myself. I shall always be overwhelmingly grateful to my friend and her father for noticing my struggles and taking me to that first therapy session. And I am thankful for my ability to shift thoughts and behaviors that do not serve me in life.

A third aspect of my identity is being a “weirdo”. Yes, I would like to make that an identity descriptor, because I’ve spent much of my life exploring who I am while grappling with the challenge of not always “pleasing the people” or fitting into some box. I want to acknowledge my deep and lifelong love of the word “weird.” I know that, for some, that word can be perceived as a negative, but not in my realm. I’ve come to accept the fact that I am often a walking contradiction, and that an important piece of self-love is self-exploration infused with courage to express in ways that aren’t always met with kindness and acceptance.

I am aware of my privilege to disguise my weirdness if I am feeling too vulnerable. I can take out my piercings, hide my tattoos, dye my hair, and only date boys if I so choose. Many cannot hide, or have a much harder time, hiding their differences. Skin color, sexual orientation, physical disability, mental challenges, gender expression, and body weight are but a few characteristics that are sometimes impossible to disguise. And trying to hide aspects of ourselves can lead to dark realities: depression, addiction, anxiety, self-harming behaviors, and sometimes suicide. Being anything but “normal” within a group is often met with judgment and dismissal. I have been dismissed within the gay community, as well as dismissed in the “straight” community for being attracted to both sexes. “Make up your mind” is a fun one to hear. I am over the moon to publicly say that I have reached a point where I don’t care. I have worked hard to accept and love myself, and people who truly see me and love me as is, well, that’s my tribe right there.

I have spent a great deal of time exploring the concept of identity. I even dreamed up a business as an “Identity Coach” along with my therapy practice. I am passionate about helping others tap into who they are, what parts of themselves have possibly been repressed or hidden, and finding strength within to explore and stand in one’s truth. We are all unique. No size fits all. Everything is fluid, and why do we have to choose? What if we are going through a phase? What’s wrong with phases? And I am starting to think more and more how most things are truly on a spectrum. Autism, sexuality, gender expression, depression, bipolar, and the list goes on and on.

While I have pointed out 3 aspects of how I identify, there are many more. I used to listen to others’ advice on how to present myself, what to say in different contexts, what not to say if I wanted to be liked and loved, and it finally hit me that I want to attract people who align with my deepest values, beliefs and ideas around being a human. And it’s absolutely okay to be “rejected” by others when I am just being me. We are trained at an early age to follow instructions without questioning. Don’t rock the boat, just follow and it will lead to “good things.” Blend in, so that you attract more. I have come to realize that the more I explore my quirks, my beliefs, my wants and dreams, the more quality I feel in my life overall.

I am beyond grateful for the challenges I have encountered in my 47 years on the Earth. I know there will be many more. I have come to realize I don’t believe in “everything happens for a reason.” Instead, I believe that the only thing certain is change and uncertainty. It’s the inner peace, calm, self-awareness, and self-care through all of the unpredictable shit that matters. I promise myself to continue following the Universal signs that have created such richness and excitement in this lifetime. These signs have guided me to therapy as a profession, through divorce, to a career as a teacher, through the incredibly difficult decision to not have a child, to finally knowing it was time to pack up my colorful life in San Diego and move back home to my family in Oklahoma. Almost everyone thought I was insane to blow up my beautiful life, but I knew. And 2 years later, as my love of movement, therapy, body/mind connection, and writing all intersect, I am bursting with wonder about what is to come…