24 and Anorexic

24. 101lbs. 5'7".

Ridiculous, is what that is. But I wasn't ready to process that. I was at a go-see, looking down at the jeans I had just ripped. How the fuck am I going to walk out there and tell them that my fat-ass ripped these jeans? Not only would I clearly not book the job (= deducing points from my self worth), but now I had to walk out there and tell the client that I ripped their precious 500 dollar jeans (humiliation = extra deduction points). Coffee was all I had consumed that day, and I regretted even those 10 calories. It never occurred to me that maybe the jeans were made out of cheap fabric (as they usually are), or that millions of girls before me had tried them on (which was most certainly true), or that maybe my sharp bony deprived knee punctured the hole.

Those days are somewhat blurry now. I'm sure I went home and ate even less and worked out even harder. I hated my life, I'm sure I hated myself, and I was awful to most of my loved ones.  Every time I booked a job, or got a pay bump I was elated for about a couple hours, then I'd go back to wanting more, never stopping to acknowledge that I was enough.

My teacher Rebecca studied with Dharma Mittra a couple times and I love listening to her quote what he once told a whole workshop of yogis.

"Look at how beautiful and young you all are. 

You have a nice car, you have a nice house. 

You have beautiful children, you have a handsome husband. 

One day it will all be gone. 

Your husband, gone.

Your house, gone.

Your children, gone.

Your car, your job,  and your poses,

POOF - they will all be gone. 

And what will you do?"

Hah, I thought I had the third Chakra down. "No problems here lets keep moving - I know I will need help with the fourth." But when Rebecca asked if we subscribed to beauty being defined as 24 and anorexic...I hated to admit that I did. And that shit, in reality, I've been 24 and anorexic.

I want honor myself.  Honor my personal code of ethics, my emotions, my body, and my desires.  Even honor those scary moments I toyed with death.  The beauty of having been 24 and anorexic is that I realized...it's not all its made out to be. I still didn't fit into designer jeans and seriously who the fuck cared? Now, I don't recommend taking that path; its a very scary, lonely, and angry one. And it hurts a lot of people. 

I DO recommend telling yourself that you are enough. I'm working on it daily. I can't pike, but I'm awesome. I can't afford my own place, but I'm beautiful.  I'm choosing to go to Yoga Teacher training and that's not selfish, its brave. My body can no longer fit into size 0's, but I can arm balance my way through a yoga class, and frankly, that's just BADASS!