This past weekend one of my best friends came to visit me! It’s been almost two years since I’ve seen her and I looked like this:
I was really proud of my damn collarbones.
And I can’t lie, I was nervous. I never thought that my friend would ever judge me. Not only does she read my blog but I had also told her what had been going on with me (a while ago). But still I was stressed out and had a moment of panic when trying to decide what to wear (and seriously just because I’m plus size doesn’t mean I want to wear a tent). In college and during our post-college visits, I’d drag her ass to the gym and we’d go tanning and shopping and spend hours indulging in makeup. We were the hott girls and I was stressed out because I wan’t the same girl that I had been and I’ve let that fact control my life for the past almost two years.
This is one of my favorite pictures of us.
Of course, once she arrived we started talking like we had never been separated. I stopped caring and reverted back to the old Sarah who would sing the score from the South Park movie with one of her best friends while stripping down to her bra. We had a great time hiding inside from the thunderstorms, talking about our lives, and making future plans to see each other again. After she left Sunday afternoon, I ran errands and picked up the rest of my birthday presents from my parent’s house. I got home and decided (in my normal restrictive behavior) to wait to eat dinner despite the fact I was hungry. Instead, I made the ridiculous decision to make chocolate chip cookies to take into work to fatten up my current co-workers (one of my co-workers had worked with me at a previous job and had been asking when I was going to feed everyone). I donned one of my cute aprons and grabbed my camera. I was determined that I would take lots of pictures and write a cute blog with some clever line about needing to use the tempting chocolate chips. So after whipping up the dough, I tasted a small sample (something I never used to do but after several batches of poor cookies, I always sample) but I didn’t stop. Instead I ate several large spoonfuls of cookie dough.
Disgusted I tossed the bowl in the sink and filled it with water. I went into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, hopped in the shower, and started to cry. After seeing my friend, I was reminded of the thin girl I had been. And now I was fat and pathetic. After my shower, I threw away my prepared dinner and sat around all evening feeling sorry for myself (something I’n quite good at). I went to bed too late (and hungry) and woke up too early this morning to work out before work. Despite my four hours of sleep, I was able to calm down and relax into my body. Looking back, I realized that I completely overreacted and I shouldn’t have thrown away my dinner (the dough is a different story because I might have eaten it). Instead I should have take a step back, recognized that several spoonfuls of dough wasn’t going to kill me. I could have stopped and remembered that I might not be that skinny but I still am that same girl in those pictures. Occasionally we need to stop and take a step back from the overwhelming emotions that seem to control our decisions. Staying present in those moments is important to recovery as is accepting oneself without any emphasis on one’s physical being. The trick is to remember that all you need is one moment to stop and breath.
So I refuse to allow a few hours of self doubt and pity to ruin an otherwise fantastic weekend. And next time I lose my sh*t around vegan chocolate chip cookie dough, I’ll take a moment before I freak out and realize that vegan chocolate chip cookie dough isn’t the source of my all problems.
