{Trigger warning – eating disorders}
You might recognise this look – this is the dress I wore to the Feather and Noise runway show event last Wednesday (get it here) – it’s an absolute keeper. At that event, we heard from my friend Stacey McGregor (if you’re not following her on Instagram, or Facebook, get to it!), and her talk has just stuck with me. And, has inspired me to share my story. I really related to Stacey’s story of body confidence and acceptance.
I wish I could have heard more body confidence and self love stories as a teenager, a young woman. You might notice here on my blog and social media that I pay little attention to body size, weight, fitness and ‘losing weight’ – baby weight included – and that is deliberate.
When I was 15 years old, I chased happiness, which I thought could be attained by being thin. I was diagnosed with anorexia that year, as I finished grade 10 in high school. And the irony is I was the least happy I’d ever been, and ever will be.
Me at 15 years of age
I lost hours counting calories, agonising over food choices; running, running and running. I said no to outings, to having fun. My body ached, I couldn’t sleep for my hip bones would dig into the bed. I had a constant pain in my neck which felt like it was caused from holding my head up. I had fine hair all over my body and I was ALWAYS cold. For breakfast I’d have sultana bran, but pick the sultanas out as they were too high calorie.
My friends didn’t know what to say, and they stopped asking me to do things as they knew I’d decline their offers. I was obsessed with ‘perfection’ and acceptance and just wanted to be a ‘regular girl’. Back then, all of the ‘regular girls’ I’d seen – in life, in magazines, on TV seemed so thin to me – there was little to no other representation and therefore I thought that ‘thin’ was normal. I grew up in the time of the ‘supermodel’. I didn’t know about photoshop like the kids of today do. Dieting seemed part of normal everyday life. I felt like a failure, and my only way to success was to be ‘perfect’ and that included the ‘perfect’ body. I once cried myself to sleep as I had eaten an apple after dinner.
Me during year 10 at high school
I wasted years of my life – so much self hate, so much loss of confidence and self worth. My diary included sentences like ‘who would want to be my friend anyway’ and ‘I need to be perfect’. I can barely read it now, I am just so sad that I would talk about myself Iike that. I would NEVER let a friend or family member talk about themselves like that, and the fact I said such awful things about myself, brings me to tears. Why did I not know what I could achieve? What I was capable of? That I could be loved for simply being me?
When I weighed almost my lowest, I caught a stomach bug and had to be hospitalised for fear of losing too much weight. I finally admitted to what deep down I knew I had, and was then diagnosed with. Anorexia. This was the catalyst for recovery.
In the hospital, I’ll never forget the hospital’s chef coming to see me specially; and he asked me what I really wanted to eat. He spoke to me about my hobbies and I said I’d love to try surfing. He said he would make me whatever I wanted for lunch, and I said I really wanted a hamburger. He made it for me, exactly to my requests, and on delivering he said I had better get better so I could try surfing. It’s funny but I think I realised right then that I couldn’t do what I really wanted to do, because of what I was doing to myself. Because of how much pain I was putting myself through.
The irony is I thought I would be happy after I lost weight, but it was the exact opposite.
And it wasn’t until I started letting go of the tight reins I was holding around myself that I started enjoying life again, that I started to get better, and I really saw how low I had gone. It was like a switch – I could never see how ill I was, until one day I looked in the mirror and it was like a different person was staring back at me. I’ve never forgotten that feeling.
I started getting better, putting on weight, laughing, seeing my friends. I got happy, and I realised it was not tied to how much I weighed. And it’s this message I hope to pass on.
I never want my daughters, or anyone at all, to feel their worth is tied to how much they weigh or what they look like. Your worth and happiness is NOT tied to this. There is NO such thing as ‘normal’. Just simply DO what makes you happy, fills you with joy, makes you think and challenges you. And never underestimate the power of what you say and do, and the influence it can have on another human being. ❤
If you need help, please contact the Butterfly Foundation on 1800334673 or Lifeline on 13 11 14.
At the Feather and Noise runway show last week, photo by Leah Ladson Photography
