Letter #8

Dear Body,

It’s been awhile. I left on a so-so note last time.

It’s been a long few months – months filled with hard decisions and wonderful memories. We’ve got some good friends, friends who love us just as we are.

So, don’t get mad at me when I do it, but I just want to warn you that I’m getting a tattoo. That means your foot is going to be sore for a few weeks. I don’t know exactly when, but its going to be soon. I really feel like getting it is part of my reclaiming you for myself. It’s kind of a redeeming thing. For so long I’ve hated those feet – I want to do something to make those feet feel beautiful to me. This is what I think is right. Hmm… now just to find someone who is comfortable with doing art on feet.

I really miss our talking and I promise to keep writing you some letters. Maybe this time we won’t go 5 months between conversations. Yeah, that would be good.

-Me

Letter #7

Dear body,

You’re giving me warning signals.

I’m listening.

We’re not going down the road of anorexia again.

-me

Letter #6

Dear body,

Last night I got really uncomfortable when someone noticed the weight loss and then made a comment about it being “all of a sudden.” This was right after her admission of how she survived an eating disorder.

This made me uncomfortable for a few reasons:

1. This hasn’t been all of a sudden – we’ve been working together on this for a few months
2. She hasn’t been on our accountability team – she doesn’t know what safe guards are in effect for us right now
3. I felt as though she was assuming that I going back to starving you
4. I still feel the need to not be noticed when it comes to our weight loss

Wow – this is bringing up some really mixed emotions for me. I think we need to talk again soon.

-me

Letter #5

Dear body,

When was the first time I called you “fat”? When was the first time I tried to punish you? to make you unattractive to everyone? When did I take those subtle steps into starvation and the painful cycle of self hate that has plagued my mind for so many years? When was the first time that I uttered the words “I hate you” while staring in the mirror?

I don’t know.

That desire to be thin – to be so thin that no one could think I was beautiful – has been with me for years. It was that itchy awareness of the “baby fat” that I heard everyone say that I should have shed years before. It was that painful uncomfortable feeling of having to buy the largest size dance uniform because I was so much larger than other girls. It was the constant reminder to “stand up straight and suck it in” that I constantly heard. It was the desire to no longer be the tallest girl in the class, or the only girl who had to wear a bra, or the only girl who wore junior sized clothes when everyone else was still in the little girls sizes. It was the calls of “sexy” or “fatty” or “bitch” hurled at me while still in intermediate school – all three responses the the puberty that overtook you so early.

I just wanted the acceptance of being thin and the rejection of being too thin. Too thin for the boys to see me as a sexual being. Too thin for people to look deep enough to see the pain that wracked my frame in the dark hours of the night. Too thin for me to dream – to relive reality in my sleep.

But I never got that thin. I got thin enough for my friends to worry. I got thin enough for my mom to egg me on into being thinner. I got thin enough for boys to take advantage of me again – albeit in a less monstrous way.

And as I got thinner and thinner, my shell got thicker and thicker, and I closed people out more and more. And I hated you more and more as each day faded into the next.

You wouldn’t get thin. You wouldn’t stay thin. You would give out on me at dance or flag practice. You would freak out and forget how to breath when I was exercising and I would collapse to the group with my heart pounding in my ears and afraid I would die.

But how could you not? A body isn’t designed to work on 500 calories a day while exercising at high intensity for 2-3 hours of that day. A body isn’t designed to exercise at high intensity for that many hours a day, on those few calories, 5-6 days a week.

You, body, weren’t created for that.

During that season where the campus nurse forced me to eat, to feed you the nutrients you so needed, I remember uttering that horrible phrase a lot. “I hate you” I whispered in the dorm shower. “I hate you” I whispered as I looked in the mirror before running to class. “I hate you” I whispered as I ate the entire tub of icing and a one pound bar of chocolate in one sitting. “I hate you” I whispered as you steadily gained inches around the waist and chest and thighs.

And then, in the last couple years, “I love you.”

“I love you” and I choose to eat healthier to show you that love. “I love you” and I choose to exercise in moderation to help get your metabolism back where it should be. “I love you” and you’re losing the weight slowly and steadily. “I love you” and you’re looking better and better each day.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

You are beautiful, you are beautiful, you are beautiful.

-me

Letter #4

Dear body,

We’re headed home today – back to good and healthy food, our own bed, and our normal routine. I’ll be happy when we are back. We just have to survive the road trip today. Mom is packing us a box of good healthy foods, fruit juices and milk. I just need to pack. Don’t worry, I’m weaning out some of the old clothes that don’t fit – we are not taking those back with us. You’ve earned the right to not drown in the clothes I dress you in each day.

More later. I need to pack.

-me

Letter #3

Well, Body,

It appears I have waiting way too long to talk to you again.

I only have one thing to say tonight (or is it this morning yet?)

You are beautiful, body. YOU are beautiful.

- me

Letter #2

Well body,

It has been a little longer than I intended since I last wrote. It has been so busy the last few weeks and boy have you let me know how you felt about that. I think for the first time in a long time we really relaxed this weekend. There’s nothing like good friends and a wedding to get a girl to really feel good about every part of herself. If I do say so myself – we looked stunning at the wedding. I think that’s the best I’ve ever pulled off a little black dress. Dropping those 20 pounds in the last few months has made a huge difference in appearance. I also got some comments about how easily I sleep in noisy situations – I wouldn’t call it easy to sleep, I say that you were very insistent that I get some rest.

I came to work Monday with a very rested you – and boy did I need that. When one of the coworkers resigned I had to cover his spot. Very stressful and very tiring – but we got through it quite nicely…. Those seventh and eighth graders couldn’t get us down after a fabulous 3 1/2 day weekend.

Strangely, I’m finding myself liking you more and more lately. I think its because I’m listening to you more and more. I’m also caring for you better – good diet and exercise help with that one.

Now, let’s just get through the next couple weeks of dealing with the major stress around the house without us getting in a fight…

Me.

Letter #1

Dear Body,

I don’t know what to say. I feel there is so much you and I should talk about. Quite frankly, I’m utterly confused when it comes to how you and I are getting along together. Some days I feel that we are so in sync – you and I can take on the world. Other days I feel that we are fighting it out in the immense and bloody battle field somewhere between thought and physical reality. Can’t we come to some agreement?

I want to take care of you, I really do, but I don’t know how. I don’t know what it means to care for you. You bear the evidence of my past abuse towards you. You are the one that wears the stretch marks from the rapid weight gain and weight loss. You are the one that bears the scars from my attacks on you. Sometimes I feel those two things negate the good that I have attempted to do for you – the healthier food, the sleeping better hours, the going onto a day schedule so you wouldn’t be so tired all the time from shift work. All those things feel for naught when I try to do something but you protest against it. Walking distances are excruciating because of that left knee. Writing is painful because you refuse to let go of the ache in the right wrist. I’m not even going to go into the mental downward spiral you put me in when you suddenly decide to hyperventilate and send my poor frazzled mind into a panic attack. I can’t stand how that but of yours won’t shrink no matter how much weight I lose.

Strangely though, I love you. I’m trying to show you that love. I just don’t have the skills to show you that love most of the time. I’m making steps though. I’m trying to deal with the underlying mental issues. I love the way you relax into sleep at night when my brain won’t calm down. I love the way your eyes have that little bit of gold in the hazel. I love way you show my emotions through overly dramatic expressions. Please be patient with me. Don’t give up on me yet. You’re the only body I have, the only one I will ever have.

I’m sorry for how I have treated you. No body deserves the abuses I have dealt you. We will talk more about them later. We have much to talk about. I’m sorry I hate you most of the time. I’m trying not to abuse you. I probably will hurt you a bit more before this is all said and done. I can’t promise you a day, much less a week, without abuse of some sort. Will you accept the minutes I can give you?

Lets enter into a dialog here. I promise I will do my best to listen to you more, to care for you, to feed you good food, to treat you every once in awhile to something special. Tell me what you need. Tell me what you want from me. My heart is open to you, my ears are straining to hear you. Just don’t give up on me and give out before we can work this out together. I don’t know what I would do without you with me.

- me