she was twenty-one, for God's sake. she must be allowed to grow up. by the time they were her age, most of the heroines of literature had lived, loved and even died...if she wanted to be a heroine, it was time to start behaving like one.


robyn sisman

via. 

a snow-filled stroll through the park.

i found myself sobbing in central park last friday. big, loud walloping sobs as i plodded through the falling snow.

and it felt so damn good.

i cry often in new york. at the most inopportune times. in the strangest--and most public--of places. my saving grace is that i'm a quiet crier. small, silent tears.

but on friday, in the park, amongst all that snow and white and absolute quiet i unleashed some powerful sobs. it seemed safe there. as though all that space and white would quickly swallow them up.

it wasn't a sadness that prompted the tears. well, yes, i suppose it was sadness. but it was the sadness of someone else. a stranger. and a stunning display of humanity that i wasn't meant to see. and that person's unfurling stirred my own residual silt. and just exactly as new york was transformed into a snow-globe, i witnessed my own inner swirling. of past emotions--failings and frustrations and countless mistakes. and it seemed so dirty this inner silt. so dark, so different than the the white before me, the white beneath my feet.

but as i walked, and as i sobbed, i felt the dark pieces fall out of me. and no, i didn't look back. but i knew. knew the snow swallowed them whole.

for me snow, more than anything else, is about healing and rebirth.

i know you've been waiting for it. so without further ado...

i finally broke down and tried the green monster last night. because camilla's been raving so about it. and because during our phone conversation yesterday she delivered a swift blow to my achilles heel: i feel like my eyelashes have gotten longer, she said.

eyelashes? longer? oh man. 

and so i tried it because what i've really learned in the last three months is that all of this--health and nutrition and happiness and well...life is one grand experiment. trial and error. figuring out what works for you. 

there was a point just after thanksgiving when i wanted to stop physique. i'll just go back to the gym, i thought. the commute is too long. i'm getting worse! 

but i continued on. because in a moment of uncharacteristic wisdom i knew those thoughts to be passing. i'd hit a little wall. but soon enough i'd just plow on through it. 

and i did. 

i love going to class because for one hour each day nothing else exists outside that room. it is a time to be selfish in the most productive of ways. 

and yes, i imagine i look a little different. not impossibly so. but enough. 

but like i've said before, it's the benefits to my health, the desire to get better and stronger that keep me going back again and again. it's the fact that now when we get to the abs i can keep up. and the fact that i no longer struggle with pain in my back. it's increased bone density (and while i can't see or feel this i'm told that it's true). 

after three months i don't have the body of kelly ripa. but then again i've got like a foot on her, so i probably never will. 

i'm stronger and happier. and so i'll continue on (even if i risk standing next to a radio city rockette and feeling....just so much less). it's the mental end that really does it for me. the gift of getting better and ticking off small accomplishment after small accomplishment. 

paper-airplane love note.

she wanted to shout out across the room to him.

i know, she wanted to say. i know i'm not good at this.

she needed to be heard above the people and commotion and muddled hysteria.

needed to cast her voice out. a fishing-line of wanting.

i'm not good at this. and i know i'm making it hard.
i know that we meet each time anew. each day, as strangers. 
but it's because i'm terrified. and enthralled. 
exhilarated, even. 
and i don't know... what...you are.
and yes--yes, of course!--i want to swim in your unknown. but i need you to invite me. to reach for my hand, grasp for my hand--feelingly--and pull me in. 


that's what she would say. if ever she found her voice.

photo.

clarification. and a little honesty.

okay. i'm gonna try something new here. i'm gonna be really candid. really honest.

(that was a joke. did you get it? you know, because i'm probably too honest sometimes? oh phooey, if you didn't get it that's on you).

no but really. i wasn't going to share this next bit. not because i'm ashamed of it. but because it was singular to me. because it never really crossed my mind that it was important. it was just a detail. a footnote.

and yet. maybe it is important. maybe it'll help elucidate things. provide some sort of foundation so that when i talk about weight and health and eating disorders you know where i'm coming from.

i gained forty pounds over the course of my eating disorder. 

yes. that's right. forty. forty pounds.

that's a fair amount. a nice little hole i dug for myself.

i tell you this because i need you to know that in getting healthy it wasn't just about finding a balance and figuring out some sort of normalcy--i had forty (count 'em, forty) pounds to lose, give or take a few.

have i lost them all? not a chance.

do i still have a fair amount to go? you betcha.

and i know i still have weight to lose not because of some number on a scale but because i'm carrying a little extra weight in my middle. and extra weight in the middle is not good for the heart. and since coronary heart disease is the leading cause of death for women in this country...well, i want my heart to be healthy.

what i'm trying to say is this: whether you need to lose five pounds, ten, two hundred, absolutely none, or actually gain weight, the process is not really that different. eat good food. real food. listen to your body. exercise. make good, positive choices everyday. and for the love of all that is good and holy in this world: don't diet. don't count calories. don't restrict. instead educate yourself and make smart choices. it's the little things--by eating real food and listening to your body--the body'll actually figure it out--at what weight it is most healthy.

and yes, it might take five years to lose all the extra weight, and yes, that can be frustrating--but it's frustrating for our egos, for our vanity, not for our bodies.

i feel like i've done a terrible job explaining myself in this post.

it's just that...all the stuff i say about food and health...those things are coming from someone who is acutely aware of the need to actually lose weight for the sake of my health.

does that make sense?