what freedom is

this afternoon, i fulfilled a lifelong desire. the desire to run is planted deep in my soul; my body aches for movement in the sunshine. but there are always limitations. time is almost always a factor - in the morning, always something else to get to, to get the run over for. breath - if you run out, there's just not much you can do about it. aches in my stomach and legs factor into the distance, and then there's weather. morning runs in the summer are glorious, but eventually it just gets too darn hot. winter, the tolerance is only so long, and the remaining two seasons tend to be fairly unpredictable. it's hard to run in rain and snow if you're dressed for warm sunshine.

all those factors hold me back at times. but the treatment i give my body holds me back most.

deep in my bones, i want to feel the call of the sunshine and dirt, have the time and physical capacity to run until i'm satisfied without any restraints. freedom. that's what the desire speaks of.


this afternoon, i set out to the gym with my love. it's been unusually cold lately. the gym has been a refuge for the two of us who less-than-love the icy wind. as we pulled into the parking lot, we noticed the sun come out and start to warm the air around us. it was 5:00 pm, the gym's busiest time, which for different reasons isn't particularly good for either of us.

a moment's contemplation and we pulled away and headed for the running trail. we set off at a brisk walk only, hand in hand. the sun warmed and awakened my heart. big, empty sky in all directions, pale spring blue.

the changing air called my soul to stay as long as i could and with most of the afternoon free, we found ourselves on an unexpected 4 mile run.

freedom, that's what it felt like.


two years ago, i would have been sick afterward and my body would have protested every step. but i still forced myself through sometimes, and i felt like a captive: forcing my body to burn off the calories whether my body liked it or not. i've run 7 miles before - that's the furthest i've ever gone. i remember building up to it. sometimes feeling elated, sometimes weak and dizzy. my body didn't know what to expect because i was starving it, gorging myself, running every day some weeks and some months going without any exercise at all.

my treatment of my physical self was unpredictable at best. self-abusive is probably a better description, and i'm not just talking about the eating disorder. i'm talking about the way i looked at myself in the mirror, the things i put my body through, the mistrust and control i exerted. and in return, i was a prisoner in my body. contained in a physical form that i hated for its limitations. it bound me. i had to fast and cleanse, exercise for an hour every single day and eat nothing but the purest, healthiest food the earth would give me...otherwise i would gain weight, be completely out of control, feel terrible because of all the piling-up health problems and ultimately would be worthless.

i was wrong.

almost a year ago now, on a day in the middle of may, i gave up the battle. i dropped the rope that bound me to my tearful tug-of-war with my body and walked away from it. i decided that it wasn't worth it.

i was sick of being terrified of gaining 5 pounds, sick of the guilt for eating an extra handful of chocolate chips. i wanted to be more than my battle with my body, desperately. i didn't want to look back at my life and see that the biggest theme was that i was always trying to lose weight and be healthier. there are more important things than this! my soul screamed.

so i decided to stop. i decided i would stop trying to lose weight - that i wasn't allowed to try to lose weight or entertain thoughts about it for a year. the time frame was important to me. i was terrified, first of all. terrified that the decision would mean my weight would sky-rocket and my discomfortl with my body would go with it. a time frame gave me a point at which i could say enough...if i needed to.

the alternative was simple: i would eat when i was hungry, building a practice of mindfulness so i could hear my body tell me when i was hungry and full. i would exercise consistently, but never push my body past what felt good. it sounds simple; it felt revolutionary.

i wanted to respect my body and build a relationship of trust with the physical form i inhabit. i wanted my body to trust me - really trust that it could tell me something and i would listen and act. this also meant no more beating my body down. (if you want a strong relationship with a friend, do you constantly tell them they aren't good enough? why, then, do we do this to ourselves if we want a strong, healthy body?)

it'll be a year in a little over a month. i was terrified at first, but now it's become more of a manifesto, a standard i've committed to live my life by. i didn't gain weight, by the way, but instead am in the best shape of my life. but it wouldn't have mattered. the point is that now i'm free - free to think of things other than weight and calories and ingredient labels. i'm free to wear whatever i want everyday instead of basing my clothing choices on how fat i felt and how big i thought my stomach was. the bare truth is, if you treat your body well consistently it becomes consistent. it trusts you.


this is all to say, today i went on a glorious 4 mile run in the sunshine and it meant more than i could have imagined. my body trusted that i wouldn't run myself into the ground, so it let go and really let me run comfortably. i'd been eating what felt good, so i had the energy and nutrients my body needed. i had build up my exercise consistently, slowly. built a strong base from which i could explore.

it felt like freedom. tangible and sweet. warm like the spring sun on my face. i wasn't caring about how many calories i was burning or the exact milage i was putting in for the week. i was expending some extra energy my body had because it asked me to, it called to me to run a little further. it felt glorious.

freedom.

freedom to eat when i feel like it, whatever i feel like. freedom to run whenever i want to - as long or as little as i want.

freedom to not worry about my weight. to keep a broken scale in the bathroom and not care to replace it.

freedom to live and think about things that matter more than 5 pounds. things that matter desperately more than 5 pounds, or 10 pounds or 40 pounds.

this afternoon, i felt that freedom, felt it real and tangibly surrounding me. and it is more beautiful than i could have ever expected when i made the decision a year ago to simply give up and let go of the battle.

i gave up and found that real life is sweet. i discovered that when i'm not worrying about weight and calories and how healthy my lunch is or isn't, i have space to breath, space for serenity and love. i discovered that self-hatred and criticism can't coexist with real health. it's just not possible to tell your body it isn't enough and expect it to give you a good physical experience.

i learned that i can love myself no matter what my weight and i learned that losing weight doens't improve your self esteem and never will. i learned love and peace and acceptance. i learned how to trust and respect myself. in return, i've been given freedom. freedom that i think most women haven't yet tasted. and i'm afraid many won't choose to.

and honestly, that freedom is the sweetest gift on earth i feel a woman can receive.

i am grateful for that gift, for that freedom.

i like this jessica better

first, the canker sore on my lip has officially reached the "people probably think my lip is deformed" stage.  not that you can see it, but it's drastically impairing my ability to speak normally... or at all.  ouch.  it really is pretty bittersweet that the juiciest sweetest plum of the season caused me to bite my lip so hard it bled.  and really, that line is not as metaphorical as it sounds or should be.  i really ate the most incredible plum ever, and i really did bite my lip and it bled.  a lot.

and if i said that in church, my sister would hold up a massive sign from the back of the room that read "TMI!"  but this isn't church.  it's a blog.  and on the blog we can basically say whatever we want and nothing is too much information, right?? ...erm.

moving on.

i'm addicted to baking.  no worries, this post isn't nearly as serious as it already sounds.  i'm not being literal.  although food has become the greatest excuse not to do homework the past two and a half weeks.  see, there were many things i was deprived of while i was in seattle.  {also, there's a positive seattle experience post in the making.  no, it wasn't all horrible.  just sometimes..in someways..you know.} one of these deprivations was a drastic lack of me cooking or baking anything.  that's right.  you know your soul is slowly dying and it's time to make some drastic changes when you go for that long without getting giddy over what's coming out of the oven.  or, at least i do.

but i'm making up for it.

in the past several days, i've made raspberry cornmeal pancakes with celestial cream, banana chocolate chip muffins, falafel with tzatziki sauce, and a massive batch of monster cookies.  oh yeah, and italien breakfast sandwiches.  ask me about those later!

really, not only am i enjoying food more than i have in well, a really long time, i'm also eating in pure guilt-free moderation.  disclaimer: no one is perfect.  ever.  but i've hit this blissful balance the last week or so between being healthy and eating all the foods i love {love and either have always restricted or binged on}.  it's this awesome stress-free mental food umbrella - being able to eat what i love when i'm hungry stop when i'm full.

it's strange, too.

see, i've had a lot of sugar lately, in retrospect.  and it's not like i've stayed at an ideal calorie intake or really been working out to my personal satisfaction.  the cool thing is that it doesn't matter much anymore.  not that being healthy doesn't matter, but my perspective has changed so much.  healthy isn't eating a perfect diet anymore; healthy is eating wonderful food in good amounts and being generally nutritious.

and look at that.

without even intending to, i've worded what i've been attempting to put into language since the end of the summer: health isn't perfection anymore, it's eating wonderful food in good amounts and being generally nutritious.  and it's being happy about it, too!

ideology shift?

i think so.  and it's in a really good direction.  so, i'm taking this moment to celebrate.  i didn't sit down with the intention to write about my eating disorder recovery, but that's what came out.  i've changed over the summer.  natalie said it best about two weeks ago.  she said, i like this jessica better.  the one who'll eat cupcakes with me and not care about how much sugar they have in them because they are so good!  that's paraphrased, but you get the idea.  i'm a more relaxed individual, now.  i'm more me, less... less obsessive and stressed.  because when i let go of all those expectations of perfect everything for myself, i became a little closer to the real me.  and that's the real point, here.

isn't it?

so that's it.  i'm reestablishing my relationship with food {and my own awesome body}.  and also, i love to bake.  hey, look - back to the beginning.  what i meant to write about was this:  this week, i can't wait to go to sunflower market and check out their all-natural meat section.  also, i can't wait to delve into a few unopened cookbooks to figure out how to cook the meat!  and because i love to see things come out of the oven i'm also going to be making white cheddar rosemary scones and chocolate chip apricot scones.  incredible, i know.

and i'm going to have some left-over falafel for dinner.

and the point of this whole post: i love food and i'm happy.

at the same time.

happy eating! :)

everything leaves.

i'm thankful for a washer and dryer in my apartment tonight so i don't have to be waiting at a laundry facility in provo, utah in the middle of the night.  it's really late, and my eyes are feeling scratchy.

leaving is a funny thing.  i've been thinking so much about it lately. . . leaving is good: it means growth.  leaving is tedious because i hate to pack.  leaving is exhilarating because adventure is out there! {pilot goggles and all.}
leaving is difficult - i don't want to let go, yet.

big changes are always a little tough to stomach for me, but this semester is a new degree of distasteful.  i've become more attached to here lately.  the people are harder to leave.  my roommates and i have all avoided packing this semester.  we've loved living with one another so much.  it's been peaceful, motivating, sometimes silly, and mostly just downright fun to live together.  my family is always hard to leave behind, particularly my niece and nephews.  they change so much between my monthly visits home.  it's hard to imagine how much they'll change after four months of being away.  and then there's the musician.  my consolation in this case is that i'm not the only one leaving.  while i'm having adventures in seattle, he'll be adventuring as well.  japan is far away.  seattle is far away.  strangely, i find myself un-heart-broken.  it'll be a challenge, but i know i'm in a much better place emotionally to handle this kind of challenge right now than. . .before.

i attended byu's graduation ceremony today.  natalie {who finished in december} is graduating, and the musician is graduating.  i couldn't help but think of the inconstancy of my life right now.  always moving apartments, always changing my address.  the people in my life coming and going so quickly that sometimes it's difficult to keep track of who came first.  everyone leaves, lately.  genni to home, ari to boston, the musician to japan, my family leaving home and leaving here back to home, sabrina to florida, me to seattle.  close to eight thousand graduates left byu this graduation.  the snow left provo, and soon i will, too.

i know i'm becoming repetitive.  it's like a circular track in my mind, my thoughts going round and round and round.  it's strange that it's not exactly bothering me.  mostly i think it's because i'm not the only one leaving. . . or maybe more because i'm not being left.  that was always the hardest.

there are a few things i have consciously decided to leave, however.  after debating.

i'm leaving the bathroom scale.  for me, this is actually a lot bigger deal than i thought it would be.  there's been a good deal of hype lately about "throwing out the scale" and ripping off all size tags from clothing.  i was never really attached to the scale.  okay, that's a lie.  i wasn't attached until last semester when for the first time there was a scale in my bathroom constantly.  it brought out more obsessiveness than i liked.  i've wanted to throw it away all semester, sometimes desperately.  for a while it became an ugly enemy - always taunting me, reminding of things i didn't want to remember, things i struggled to accept, things i feared i couldn't rid myself of.

but i'm through with it.

i've decided that leaving is a good time to leave a few things behind in my life as well, leave out some bad habits.  i've made such massive leaps of progress this semester when it comes to eating, health habits, self love, self confidence, courage, and trust.  although i've told myself that it doesn't really bother me to have it there, i know it does because every time i walk by i'm tempted "just to see..."

so the scale stays - for good.  in the trash, for that matter.  i'm leaving the last bits of that ugly disorder behind.

i think sometimes, in order to leave things out of our lives that shouldn't be there we have to actually physically leave.  an interesting concept - that physically leaving can aid emotional leaving so much.

and it makes me wonder what else i'm leaving that i don't realize yet.

or what i'm taking to seattle that i'll need to leave there when it's time for me to leave again.
and come home.

patterns.

the last few weeks i've been reminded that i'm not perfect - often.  life isn't crashing down or anything, i haven't had some massive humbling experience that will make me an incredibly better person in the future.  it's one of those on-going "this will make me a better person eventually" sorta things.  i've been quiet about my health for a little while because there wans't much to talk about - everything was incredibly {and blissfully} stable.  it was stable because my routine was stable - fairly, at least.

a few weeks ago, that stability was more than slightly overturned. . .gradually.  can something be gradually overturned?  maybe that's a really abstract metaphor.  but it was.  routine stability slowly turned into near chaotic living.

lately,

i don't do as much homework as i used to.

my sleep schedule has been the opposite of what i want it to be - meaning i've been going to bed early and waking up late, going to bed late and waking up early, and going to bed really late and waking up really really late.

running and yoga have been sporadic, at best.

food. . .oh, food. . .

my diet's been something like 70% pure sugar, 20% processed carbohydrates, and 10% actual digestable food.

i've been told that my room is a pretty reliable measure of my inner-state.  if life is stable, my room is impressively clean and organized - and it stays that way for weeks at a time.  however, my stress level, defined as the amount of change present and anticipated {thank you, family adaptation and resiliency for teaching me that life stress doesn't have to make me stressed} is directly correlated to the messiness of my room.  it's a positive line - and yes, it's usually exponential.

something like....

this.

so, that's a long explanation for one little sentence: i think my room is messier than it's ever been.

now, let me clarify slightly.  i'm not super stressed out - see, there's a big difference.

stress = the amount of change a person is undergoing.

stress =/ how stressed out i feel.

moving across the country + end of the semester + anticipating leaving things here i'm really attached to = a whole lot stress!

so, to get to what i wanted:

i haven't been doing as well as i'd like.  all this changing and anticipating the massive changes that are coming up soon has had me a little nervous.  this week it's caught up to me.  my neck has hurt more than usual - little remnants of fibromyalgia pain.  my clothes are all a little tighter than is mentally comfortable because my eating habits have been so off.  old vices tend to surface most during times of change.  i know this, so all this isn't completely unexpected.  and i've learned to manage it better - a week {or in this case, a few} of really off eating and a few extra pounds don't have me being intensely restrictive.  in fact, after recognizing how crazy my eating habits have been my reaction was very carefully intentional: keep three balanced meals a day, try to cut back on the sugar so i feel better.  it's difficult because it's still not my default.  but i'm learning, and i am incredibly impressed with myself for taking time to learn, instead of being reactive and restrictive.

anyone who's had a recovery processes of their own is aware of the monumentalness of what i'm doing.  recognizing patterns enough to stop the cycle is a massive part of pulling out of any addictive practice.  this is one really big "test" i've noticed since starting to mentally beat anorexia out of my life.  i'm glad i was able to recognize a pattern, and i'm glad that i've learned to react the way i now can.  it's been a process, but looking back i'm impressed with how much i've learned - even just this semester.  now, even though my room is still a disaster area, my health habits can all jump back on track instead of swinging to a different extreme.

overall, i'm a much more stable person than i was four months ago, or a year ago, or four years ago.  and it's good to reflect on that kind of monumental progress - especially when the going gets tough!

another reason i'm proud of myself today: i went to sleep at 10:00 pm last night, and i pulled myself out of bed at 5:30 this morning.  before my class started at 10, i'd written a paper, ran, made myself breakfast, eaten breakfast, and gotten completely ready for the day {aka, no ponytail}.  now. . .THAT is major progress, don't you think??

and we'll just disregard the fact that i only went to one class today because of how freezing cold i was. :)

speaking of, i'm off to find some really warm socks!

and make a crazy effort to deep clean my room. :)

starving for real beauty.

day six.

question: {jaded beauty.} has the world's definition of beauty ever jaded you?

i'll admit it: i've been slightly apprehensive to answer this question.  it's one that i saw when i started the project (reading over the questions) and thought, wow... that one will be tough to tackle.  i don't have my thoughts completely together, but i'm going to give it a shot and hope it comes out making at least a tiny bit of sense.

at age sixteen, i was energetic, enthusiastic about life, and a perfectionist.  the problem didn't start as a desire to be thin, a dissatisfaction with my body, or even a conscious act.  in fact, i wasn't consciously aware of the strain i was placing on my body by limiting my food intake until my mother asked a very important question one night, a question that saved my life and started a new chapter.

she was sitting on the couch, and i was at her feet.  i was already emotionally weary.  it had been a long day, it was late at night, and my sixteen-year-old heart was broken so horribly it could never be repaired {or so i thought at the time}.  i don't remember what we were talking about.  i simply remember her interrupting the subject to place her hand on my shoulder and ask, jessica, why haven't you been eating?

i sobbed.  teenage mascara running down my face, hands and feet tingling from lack of oxygen, tissue box at my feet, i sobbed good and hard.

the truth was, i had no idea.  i didn't know why i hadn't finished a meal in the last several months. i had no idea why i had been so obsessive about buying a smaller jeans size.  reflecting in that moment i knew it was true, but i didn't know why.

once i tried to break the habit and started to form normal eating habits again, i realized how much the disorder had affected my perception of beauty, of myself and other women.  i had not been viewing myself or the women around me as daughters of God, beautiful human beings with the inborn potential to nurture, love, and create life.  i had been seeing myself and others as mere objects - machines that badly needed perfecting.

it was a slow process to change that mindset.

the journey isn't over yet.  but i'm a happier and healthier traveler now than i was five years ago, two years ago, even a year ago.

today, i'm working diligently to eat three meals a day, to exercise enough for my body each day.  i'm being flexible about what i eat, finding the balance between healthy food and still living a little.  i'm trying to consciously find a few things about my body to be thankful for every day {no matter how small}.  

today, i can say i have some theories.  my in-depth study of eating disorders from a social science perspective has given me a little window into my past.  through this i can see glimpses of the warning signs, the predictors, and the recovery stages.

today, i can say i work hard to be healthy.  some days it's a massive daunting challenge and others i feel the freedom of a healthy and correct view of myself.  but overall, i'm in upward motion - each down day isn't as down as the previous, each good one is higher than the last.

the world's definition of beauty stains each of us a little differently, i think.  it's the process of washing away those stains that molds who we are - little by little.  with the help of our Savior, overcoming any challenge is possible.  especially for healing the taint the world's definition of beauty leaves on the soul, His help is necessary.  because to Him, we are all beautiful.  defects, faults, and all, He takes us as we are, willing to save us each individually.

and that's the miracle: that no matter how stained, we can always develop an eye to see our own beauty and that of others.  little by little, day by day, holding His hand.