How does one start the difficult conversation?

This is a question I have gotten quite a lot of messages about…

I often hear that when attempting to have this kind of talk with a friend, that friend tends to get defensive.

And this is often because, although it may not be one's intention, this conversation often feels one-sided and accusatory.

It’s the natural human response to react with a flight-or-fight response and defend yourself in a difficult situation.

However, I have found that when you make yourself the topic of conversation it takes less stress off of the individual you are trying to approach and allows them to listen and respond more freely.

For instance, things like;

 “I am worried that we are becoming distant.”

“I am hurt that you aren’t coming to me to discuss whatever it is that may be bothering you or may be on your mind.”

“it was so painful watching my friend, Sam, struggle with an eating disorder. I don’t want to see you go down that same path feeling all alone, I’m here if you’d like to talk, I understand that this is not a choice.”

By making yourself the subject of the conversation it lessens the anxiety and the immediate flight-or-fight response often associated with accusatory conversations.

Whatever you do, encourage your friend to make use of the resources available to him or her.

Treatment is life changing, there is nothing wrong with asking for help.

Remind them you’ll be right by them every step of the way.

One late night last week, I laid in bed and reflected on last year. I thought about how much I’ve changed and grown over the years and how much happier I have become. I let my memories scatter and fill my brain, and at some point, the glorification kicked in.

I was remembering ED (my eating disorder) for what I thought it “gave” me rather than what it robbed me of. I suddenly caught myself smiling as I thought just how breathtaking it was to feel great at something, even if that something was an eating disorder.

It felt… empowering! I felt like I was in control. The feeling of complete and utter emptiness was euphoric to me. My shivering felt like a test of my strength and determination, and nothing would deter me from reaching my goal.

I grabbed my pillow and took a deep breath. I can’t deny that there are days where I still miss you, ED. I miss all that I thought you gave me.

And then there are days where the rose colored glasses just don’t exist.

The real truth is that I hate you, ED. My eating disorder never made feel great at something, it made me think that if I listened to it, one day I would earn the right to be called great… but I was great at so much to begin with.

I was great at being a daughter, great at being a sister, great at being a friend, and great at being a person who exuded love and compassion.

Control? It’s crazy to think I truly believed I was the one in control. Yeah, I didn’t consume that cookie everyone else had for dessert, but that was not my “self-control,” that was ED’s demand.

Being able to take a step back and remember the entirety of this disorder allowed me to remember both the good and bad.

Yes, there were momentary feelings of joy that were brought on through sickness. But there were even more feelings of fear, loneliness, fatigue, heartache, despair, and self-hate. And no matter what ED whispers, I can’t forget the honest truth, the burden I was forced to bare.

So, here it is, the honest truth… I don’t know if I’m recovered. I don’t know if I ever will be. I don’t know if recovery truly exists. I do believe that someday, all of those who struggle with this same battle will be able to live a relatively normal life. A life that is not narrow but wide beyond belief.

Still, I won’t sit here and deny the fact that hard days still hit me like a freight train. Last week, the guilt of a single dark chocolate Trader Joe’s Peanut-butter Cup brought me to tears and utter panic. 

Two weeks ago, I had to talk myself through eating breakfast. I had to hear the words out loud.

I had to hear that I deserved the fuel and the energy, that I needed it and was justified in having it. I shouldn’t need to justify being deserving of food, being deserving of the energy which keeps us alive.

So no, I might not be “recovered” and I might not ever be, but I am living the most authentic life I can. One I had never thought would be possible when my life was the narrow scope of gym, calories, numbers, and self-hate.

My eating disorder may not be “long forgotten” but it is certainly not in control of me anymore. I make the rules and I live freely, and on the days where ED chooses to push his way in, he’s a faint little whisper that I now have the strength to shut down and push aside.

This is no longer about politics.

This is about each and every individual residing in the United States of America.

Though I personally did not support Trump, this is the hand we were dealt and I’m hoping that he will rise above and prove myself, and all others who doubt him, wrong.

But, now that the election results have been revealed, it is so hard to deny what is all around us. 

So many tearful, watery eyes due to the uncertainty of this country's future.

So many visibly distraught minds spiraling with never ending thoughts of distress and unanswered questions.

And ultimately, the utter despair of feeling worthless.

When your country choses to elect the man who claims that, “all minorities don’t belong,” you start to question your own self-worth and whether the progress made over the years was truly progress at all.

I myself am a minority, I am Jewish and I am so damn proud of it.

Donald Trump becoming president will not change that.

Donald Trump becoming president will not change the fact that whether you are gay, straight, transgender, African American, Latino, Muslim, Jewish, physically disabled, mentally ill, or anything in between—you do matter, your opinion counts!

No one, not even the President of the United States, has the power to determine your self-worth.

I for one stand with each and every one of you as I say, “you are worthy, and you are loved,”

…and I mean that with all of my heart.

I understand the fear that many of us are facing, and I know that there is not much one can do to alleviate your pain. 

But, I hope that we can at least find some solace in the fact that we are not alone in this battle.

Please remember, there are so many people on your side.

No matter what your feelings or opinions of our future President and policies are, we must unite as a country. 

America, after all, is a democracy and the majority of the people have spoken. 

Let's try to bring this country together again—United we stand.

If you know me, you know I love to talk.

I love to be social, meet new people, and connect with others on a deeper level.

I crave connection more than I crave anything else in this world.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s because for so many years, my eating disorder was the only connection I had…it was ED and I against the world.

Then there are other times where I wonder if it’s just the opposite…my eating disorder was all I had, deeper connections and meaningful conversations were just not on my agenda.

But one way or another, when I create these deeper connections with people, I like to know what makes them uniquely them.

For a long time, this is something I questioned about myself.

What makes me uniquely me?

In the past I would’ve said something along the lines of, “ Hi, I’m Sam. I have a passion for both health and fitness and love to learn about nutrition.”

It made sense to me, it was obvious.

I was deemed “the gym girl” by my peers and I was GD damn proud of it at the time…

However, when I began my road to recovery, that was one of the hardest things to let go of…

It was my identity, I was the “gym girl,” and I didn’t know who I was if I couldn’t be her.

I struggled with this for longer than I’d like to admit, as many often do.

However, today I share my story because it is a part of who I am, it is a part of my identity and a part of what makes me, me.

No, I am not my eating disorder, but my eating disorder has impacted my life and made me into the person I am today.

It is a part of my personal narrative and it shows the most honest, authentic version of myself.

It has given me courage and passion that I never knew existed.

And, It has shown me the strength and bravery that I never knew I had.

I share my story because I am no longer ashamed of my past, but thankful that is has helped to shape my present.

I share my story because talking about my battle with anorexia helps not only myself, but anyone else out there who feels alone.

I share my story to break the stigma, to give others hope, and to be the most authentic version of myself.

I share my story because I believe It’s what I was born to do…I’m no longer ashamed, I’m proud of who I’ve become.

Anxiety isn’t just a term you use when you’re stressed about an exam, annoyed by the girl loudly snapping her gum, or excited about your upcoming vacation.

Anxiety overtakes you.

With anxiety, you are neither stressed, annoyed, nor excited.

You feel as if you’re trapped in a dark, confined space, grasping for even the slightest bit of air.

Your thoughts are spiraling, spinning from one thought to the next as if you were watching dominoes collapse inside your brain.

Make it stop. Please,  shut up!

But, it’s never that easy…

With anxiety, there is no such thing as pure and joyful happiness—if you have suffered from anxiety, I’m sure you already know that.

I’m sure you already know that a moment of happiness is surrounded by screams, cries, and yells from that thing we call a brain.

So many thoughts and fears firing, it’s like a war zone in your head.

Instead of enjoying the current state of what should be happiness…we are left worrying about what would happen if we lost this happiness.

We start to think of ways to hold on and ways to ensure that it doesn’t fade away…

What will happen when the post run, endorphin high fades?

What if I can’t keep this weight off and I stop receiving compliments?

What if this promotion isn’t permanent?

Do. Better. 

But instead, we chase it away—our brains do.

As if we weren’t crumbling to pieces already…

Our brain says, “do better.??  

So we fight.

We consistently fight ourselves and push ourselves to the ultimate limit because we are so desperately afraid of that “what if?? turning into our reality…

But living a life ruled by your own mind is exhausting.

You are at war with yourself, and even when you win, you really lose.

The battles never over, there will always be something new.

A new thought, a new game of dominoes you so desperately wish would end…

When it’s anxiety, it’s your brains world, and you’re just living in it…

The Worst Of All Time.

1. You comment on  your friends old Facebook pictures

As if you didn’t know that embarrassing picture would make its way onto every bodies newsfeed…

I mean, no one needs to see pictures of me throwing up the peace sign and trying to pucker my lips despite the braces.

If no one’s told you yet, you’re the WOAT.

2. You hook up with  people and regret it the next day 

You know that kid you sort of had a thing with last year?

Yea, the one that it got really awkward with?

Well you made out with him last night, so if you wake up to any weird texts from him—that may be why…

3. You say you’re not  going to drink but you get wasted

Not only because you have an exam to study for tomorrow but also because your liver could really use a break…

So I’ll go and just have a beer, no biggie…

4 shots and 3 beers later your liver hates you and you’re studying the tiles on the bathroom floor…

4. Your snap story is  as basic as it gets

You basic bitch, you!

Geotag game strong with your Dunkin’ iced coffee in hand…

We see you!

5. Your Instagram  caption included #SZN 

I don’t know what’s worse…

Me and mine VS you and yours

Or

Acai #SZN

You, my friend, are the absolute WOAT.

6. You drunk texted  an ex

“Hiiii, what are you  up to????

Pretty sure you just booty called your long-lost boyfriend…

You should seriously consider deleting his number.

7. You drunk called  your grandma

“GRAMMY! I’m really  craving your homemade apple crumble, I want it so badly—I’ll do anything!???

Wow, you’ll do anything?

That’s a bold statement- especially when speaking to your grandma…

As If love weren’t complicated enough…

As if every single one of us wasn’t constantly wondering, “who’s the one for me?”

Most of us can name off a few things we want in our significant other.  A list, per se, of all the things we dream “the one” we end up with will have all checked off.  Most of us have lists that read, “sincere, loving, outgoing, ambitious, handsome, tall, intelligent, passionate, etc.”

The list goes on and on…

But, even with these check lists we’ve created, some of us just hate the way we love…

We claim to want the man who makes us his world, yet we chase the man who barely gives us the time of day.

We claim to want the man who will love us and all our imperfections, yet we chase the man who we constantly feel the need to dress up and impress.

We claim to want the man who cares about our feelings, yet we chase the man who’s constantly playing with them like a twisted game.

We claim to want the man who goes the extra mile, yet we chase the man who hardly even goes half way.

We claim to want the man who is sweet and romantic, yet we chase the man whose extent of romance is a text that reads, “Goodnight babe.”

We claim to want the man who makes us a better version of ourselves, yet we chase the man who makes us lose sight of who we really are.

We claim to want the man who always knows how to make us smile, yet we chase the man who always leaves us hurt.

We claim to want the man who has a heart of gold, yet we chase the man who has a heart so cold.

…And for this, we hate the way we love.

We hate the way our hearts and our minds don’t always align. We hate the way that we can’t just choose to change our feelings. We hate the way that, despite what we know, we still love the chase.

But truth is, we don’t hate the way we love.

Truth is, we hate the way we don’t love.

We hate the way we don’t love ourselves enough to know we shouldn't have to fight for a man's attention. We hate the way we don’t love ourselves enough to know our self-worth isn’t measured in “goodnight,” texts.

We hate the way we don’t love ourselves enough to know that the goal in life is to impress yourself, not to impress a man.  We hate the way we don't love ourselves enough to know that we don't need someone else's approval— that we are worthy with or without a man. 

We hate the way we don't love ourselves enough to know we deserve someone better.

We don’t hate the way we love; we hate the way we don’t know how to love— and that's our biggest problem…

The Barbie to your Ken, the Meredith to your Cristina, the Ben to your Jerry, the peanut butter to your jelly…

We all are bound to have that one person in our lives that somehow manages to keep us sane, to understand how we think, and to be by our side no matter what the situation.

And, we can thank our lucky stars for them, each and every day, because life just wouldn’t be half as sweet without that person by your side.

1. They know how to  be crunchy when it’s your turn to be smooth

Ya’ know, it’s like good cop, bad cop!

One of you has to man up and have the balls in this duo when the other decides to fall back and play coy…

You balance each other out—it’s the best of both worlds.

She arranges a killer pregame, you come ready to rage—fair.

2. You’re constantly  thinking the same thoughts

You can just look up, make eye contact, and know that you’re both thinking the exact same thing…

“WTF was that girl in  the pink jumpsuit doing and why is she wearing that?!???

“LOL, that boy you had  a DFMO­­­­­­– dance floor make out –with last night just walked by so like, don’t  look up, no eye contact. “

3. Somehow everything  in life reminds you of one another

A song in the club comes on and you immediately think of your other half—OMG, Ali and I were legit  jammin’ out to this song in the kitchen last night! It was so funny, we were  dancing and everything!

You walk past a clothing store and, while staring at the mannequins in the window, you automatically know, “Hay, Ali has that shirt! I should really borrow that sometime.???

4. You’re basically  the dynamic duo 

She edits the pictures, you come up with captions—you’re practically Insta’ famous.

She spots the cute boys, you start the conversation—successful.

You pretty much just kill the best friend game, no doubt.

5. They make one  killer wing man 

I mean, who else would have such amazing things to say about you?

They are always talking you up to all their friends, especially the male ones…

She’s so sweet, so  smart, so hot, and I mean, have you seen her body?!

6. You have different  taste in boys but that’s perfectly okay

No competition here!

You can spot out her type from a mile away and are the first to point him out to her.

Obviously you’ll convince her to make a move…

But, of course she’d never leave you hanging–chicks over dicks any day!