It's really true what they say...

Trigger Warning: This post contains mentions of feelings and experiences associated with eating disorders. Written by me...and I'm NOT a Doctor, Psychologist, or Therapist.

Today as I was running, I had a moment of clarity about my body. I always thank my legs after runs, but today I thanked my whole self. I thanked my whole self for making it through some really hard times and for still being tough enough to go run 7 miles and feel great doing it. I often take selfies while running which people may find weird. But I love looking back at them because my smiles are always so big and pure when I run. I want to always remember the joy it brings me. I took that away from myself for some time and I wish I could have that time back.

Growing up in my household, there wasn't much talk of weight. Can we run? Can we kick with strength and dribble with agility? Can we spin our legs on a bike and tread water? We were taught that our physical fitness and being active were more important than a number on a scale.

But at some point, in the midst of being a star athlete, I stopped believing that and the pressures of the big world got to me. The numbers on the scale really started to matter to me. At a time when I was young and growing and barely breaking a buck ten to begin with. It wasn't because of boys. It was because of boys and girls and people close to me and for strangers. Suddenly I thought my body mattered the most, to everyone.

When I was in high-school we didn't have much access to the web. Google wasn't 'a thing.' But through whispers I learned some tips. Tips that were totally unfounded and dangerous and completely without any backing of efficacy or sound reasoning. Drink cold water all day to keep your metabolism running. Take laxatives. Cut carbs. Eat crunchy vegetables to make you feel like you're eating more. Chew gum so it bloats your stomach a bit and you feel fuller. I did them all. And before I knew it I was injured. I blew my chances at scholarships. I made it so that my Mom couldn't sleep at night. I was sad.

But I got past that episode. Until it happened again in college. This time plummeting me to below 90 pounds in my twenties. Causing Doctors to tell my Mom that I was going to go for a run, have a heart attack, and never make it home. Causing me to starve and take so many laxatives (for what food in me?), that one night I truly thought it was my last night on planet Earth. I was home visiting my parents that weekend and I was so scared I asked my Mom to come sleep in my room. I told her I thought I had food poisoning because I didn't want to admit I had taken more laxatives (I'm sure she knew, looking back). I was sweating profusely and cramping with a strength so intense I was sure it would be the last time I saw my Mom.

Photo of a photo but me in college, just under 90 pounds. I remember this photo was taken right after I cried over my Mom insisting on putting probably 1/2 a teaspoon of olive oil in the probably 1/4 cup of pasta I agreed to eat.

So many experts say that eating disorders stem from people wanting something to control in their life. While I'm absolutely certain that's true, for me, I felt nothing but out of control. Maybe that's part of it too.

It's just so crazy. According to the National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders, at least 30 million people of all ages and genders suffer from an eating disorder in the US. And every 62 minutes, at least one person dies as a direct result from an eating disorder.

Wow right? Ab. So. Freaking. Lutely. Wow.

That photo above was picked up by my Mom and Dad after having been developed at Sam's Club (back when we all actually developed our photos). My Dad had been traveling and not seen me in a few months and when he saw that photo, he fell against a shelving unit in the store. Out of shock, sadness, fear. My Dad, the strongest man on earth. He fell from sadness over me. That was a turning point for me.

Because of my incredible parents, my loving sister, and a team of nutritionists and doctors, I got back on track. The emotional aspects of this time in my life linger. I'd be lying if I said I felt confident 100% of the time. Last week I didn't wear a particular dress to work because I thought my armpits looked fat - yes, you read that right. But overall, I'm a hell of a lot better. All this context said in leading to this:

I wish I had known, and I wish I had listened when I was told, then that nobody picks their friends over their waistlines. I didn't pick my friends over their waistlines at that age, but somehow I thought people would pick me for mine. Boys included. Little did I know I'd wind up marrying a man who loves curves quite simply who could care less about a number on a scale... who values a healthy woman who can run and play and hang on adventures.

You know why I have the friends I do now? And the husband I do now? I'll give you a few examples...

Maria: She's whip smart and as caring as they come. She challenges me. She doesn't judge. I tell her the things I could only tell my Dad when he was alive. She would do anything for me. As I would for her.

Maria and I, at about 20 years of friendship!

Katrina: Even when we don't talk for months, she stays a part of my soul. She exudes the same warmth her mother does and brings a calm and simultaneous life boost to everyone who crosses her path.

Molly: Molly and I have been cracking up laughing since the day we met. Like hard, stomach-hurt, squeeze your legs together so you don't pee, laughing. When I'm with her, I know we're going to laugh and I know we're going to cry when it's time to say goodbye.

Kelly: Kelly is a brilliant go-getter who is also incredibly open and raw. We hold each other accountable, make one another acknowledge our worth, and can also talk about our most embarrassing moments.

Dan: Dan is the most selfless human I've ever met and makes me want to be a better person. He helps people see the best in themselves and in every situation - he asks questions that people don't even know to ask themselves. To be around him is to be inspired.

Will: He told me when we got married that he feels like he sees me through my Father's eyes. For my compassion and my heart and my wit. It still holds as one of the best sentences ever spoken to me.

Bottom line, from me... someone who isn't an expert but who has struggled and come out the other side thriving...an unreasonable number on a scale isn't worth it. Tell your daughters. Tell your sons. Tell them. Tell yourself. Be healthy, but don't lose yourself in a dangerous quest. Don't risk losing your passions. The very things that make you tick.

Remind them that they matter most because they're smart and have an opinion. Because their voice makes people think. Because they have a contagious laugh or a 1,000 watt smile. Because they bring out the best in others. Because they care so much about the world that they won't even kill a fly.

There are one million reasons we matter outside of the number on a scale. I wish I could have got it when people told me I needed to keep myself strong and be kind to myself.

I'd tell my 16 year old self, 'you'll need your body to carry you mentally and physically through your stress and your life when your child is sick, when your job is tough, when marriage is hard, when the world is weeping from strife, politics or natural disaster, and a thousand other scenarios. You'll also need your body to carry you mentally and physically through the BEST of times. Up mountains for stunning views, through crashing waves with the love of your life, throughout pregnancy to birthing the biggest gift in your life.'

So. Much. Good.