Would you walk a mile in my uber cute ballet flats?

You know that saying "walk a mile in my shoes"? Well, dearest reader, take off the shoes you're currently wearing, cuz I am giving you the chance to walk a mile in my cute black ballet flats. I know, you are most likely wondering why on earth you would do such a thing. But I promise, there IS a point to this.
This isn't coming out of the blue. Lately I have been seeing/hearing so much talk about "dieting" and "eating healthy". You know, the "I shouldn't be eating this" or "It's ok, I went to the gym today". Or my personal favorite, "This is my 'cheat' day". Why is this thinking considered not only normal, but HEALTHY thinking? Since when is it ok to shame and guilt ourselves about the things we eat or the way we look? As a mother, one thing I strive to do is encourage balance. That everything is ok, in moderation. I am not saying that overeating is the way to go, either. But it's ok to listen to our bodies. To eat when we're hungry and stop when we're full. It's surprising how much better we actually function when our physical needs (aka eating) are met. Hence, my dears, the mile in my cute ballet flats. I hope from my experience you can continue walking in your own shoes, knowing that a number on the scale doesn't make you who YOU are. That beauty is not physical appearances. Beauty is being vulnerable. Being honest and real.
It all started my junior year in high school. I started noticing boys (well, mostly the fact that I didn't know how to interact with them). I started noticing how alone I felt. I don't know why I turned to food to cope, but I did. Throughout the rest of my high school years, I was constantly battling my obsession with food. I would swing from not eating anything other than fruits and veggies, to constantly eating anything I could get my hands on and then forcing myself to throw it up. It honestly never occurred to me that this wasn't normal behavior.
Once out high school, it wasn't long before I went over the deep end and completely lost my sense of self to my eating disorder. I would spend the next six years in and out of hospitals, psych wards, and inpatient eating disorder facilities. To this day, I can remember the nights spent lost in my repeating thoughts. It was like I was two different people. The facade I put on, smiling, happy, outgoing Claire. Once alone, the other me emerged. This Claire was silent, cold, and numb. When this Claire took over I no longer felt any emotions. I no longer felt any joy, love or sadness. I did what I had to to get by. But in the back of my head was the constant rattle of my obsessive thoughts. "I'm not good enough", "If only I loose __ more pounds, then everything will be ok", or "I will be beautiful once I weigh __ pounds". What people usually don't realize is that once some one develops an eating disorder, it will takes months or years of hard work before they are able to overcome the voices in their head telling them these destructive lies.
Looking back, it makes me sad at how much time I spent listening to my eating disorder, following its every command. Even during the months of seemingly good recovery, my ED was always there, scheming and whispering in my ear. It took a long time (and lots of therapy and psychiatry visits) before I was able to recognize that I didn't HAVE to listen to my ED. That my eating disorder didn't define me as a person. Recovery from anything, whether it be an addiction, co-dependency, self harm, or just plain ol' negative thinking takes a lot of practice. It takes a lot of trial and error. Recovery means letting others see me at my most vulnerable times, times when I am not sure who I am or what I am doing. It also entails asking for help. This, for me, was one of the hardest one to learn. But I have learned that it is the weak that do not ask for help. It takes strength and giving up control to ask for help. There have been a few times when I have asked for help, and none was given. It was in those moments that I kicked off my trendy heels and put on my old shit kicking boots. Those are the experiences that have made me a stronger person.
Well, you can take off my cute ballet flats. Whew, you're probably thinking.I exhaust myself too, sometimes. But I am learning what moderation looks and feels like for me- and that, my friends, is a whole other story to be told!