Acne

Throughout high school, I was pretty lucky when it came to acne. This was probably due to the fact that when I was anorexic, I only ate "clean" or "safe" foods that were low in carbs, calories, and fats--if I ate anything (Disclaimer: I do not recommend this and no one should use eating like this an excuse for clear skin. It is disordered eating.). The same was true during my binge eating disorder, but rather than my skin remaining clear as a result of what I was (and was not) eating,  I'm pretty sure the only reason why my skin remained clear was because my body knew that having bad acne would have broken my already fragile self-esteem into oblivion. It would have given me one more reason to hate my body and to hate myself. It might have even pushed me to suicide.

As shallow as it sounds, having clear skin helped me feel a little bit better about myself--even on my worst days.

Fast-forward to about a year ago. I was dating Justin and things were going great. Well, mostly great except for one thing. I had started to get acne for the first time in my life. I was embarrassed that what most people had experienced in their teens was happening to me as an adult. I became even more self-conscious than I normally was and my perceptions of myself were largely determined by how many zits I had on my face that day. I was worried that Justin would think less of me or think I was less attractive because of it. I ended up buying as many over-the-counter cleansers, oil-removers, and acne medications as I could find; I even resorted to scouring the internet for hours and buying products from Korea and Japan in the hopes that they would make me somewhat attractive again. I eventually went to see a dermatologist, but getting rid of my acne wasn't easy. The topical medication was expensive and the oral medication made me throw up. But I was willing to do anything to make it go away. I eventually was tired of feeling sick from the medication and I stopped taking it. My skin did pretty well for a while, but things picked back up again around Christmas of that year. It was bad. It wasn't that I had a zit here and there on my face, but my entire forehead was covered in large, cystic pimples. To make things worse, I tired to pick at the zits, which made some scab over and made others become inflamed. I was so embarrassed that I wore a bandanna headband everyday for two weeks so no one could see just how 'ugly' I had become. I was insecure around Justin and whenever he told me I was beautiful, I thought he was saying it out of pity. I mean, he saw what I saw in the mirror and so did everyone else around me--I thought they thought of me like I thought of me. That they thought I was ugly and disgusting. There were even nights where I would quietly cry myself to sleep out of frustration and self-loathing or instances where I would avoid experiences altogether out of shame.

When it was at its worst this past December
(the lighting in the picture doesn't really show
how intense it was)

The bandana headband
(Also, don't mind Jesus in the background haha)

In a lot of ways, I guess I relived the same emotions I experienced during my disorders.

Luckily, Justin caught on to what was happening pretty fast (one of the best things about being married is that you never have to go through things alone). Noticing that I was depressed and struggling, he looked at me one night and said, "Alyson, acne and beauty aren't mutually exclusive". And he was right.

I still struggle with feeling my best when I have zits or scabs from zits on my face, but I'm starting to realize that my beauty--and more importantly, who I am, is not negatively influenced by some red dots on my face. I am more than a few imperfections in my complexion.

Acne and beauty are not mutually exclusive.
Neither are acne and self-worth;
Acne and self-esteem;
Acne and love;
Acne and good experiences;
Or acne and anything positive in life.

For a while I gave myself a hard time for feeling insecure about my appearance because I thought that since I had overcome my disorders I was better than this and that I had control over most of my insecurities. That I had already overcome my body image issues and that I shouldn't still be struggling. However, I'm starting to realize that body-dysmorphia, low self-esteem, and body image issues tend to manifest themselves in more than one way and in more than one area of our lives. How we feel about ourselves is a complex, multi-faceted experience. While we may overcome one facet that we struggle with (like being okay with stretch marks or wearing a swimsuit in public), we may also still struggle with another area of our appearance (like having acne in my case). Learning to love yourself isn't easy,  however, that doesn't mean that we shouldn't be proud of progress we have made in the past or be intimidated by how large of a challenge learning to like ourselves may seem. The best thing we can do is take things one day or one facet at a time and be kind to ourselves.

Another thing that I've realized as I've gone through this experience is that while it's pretty easy to love yourself, it can be ridiculously hard to like yourself. For example, I love who I am, but I don't necessarily like my appearance when I have acne strewn across my face. Why is it that when we see someone else with an 'flaw' that we have (like acne in my case), we are less harsh toward them than we are towards ourselves? When someone else has a zit on their face I don't instanteously like them any less or think any less of them. Sometimes, I don't even notice if there are any zits on their face in the first place. However, when it is on my own face, I tend to use it as an excuse to bully myself for something that is out of my control and I project how I feel about myself onto others.

For a while, I thought that in order to be beautiful, I had to have perfect skin--just like I used to think that I had to have the 'perfect' body in order to love myself, like myself, or be myself. Perfection does not constitute beauty, it is a toxic and obsessive illusion. I may never have clear or perfect skin again for the rest of my life, but does that make me any less beautiful or any less beautiful of a person? No. Should I use my acne as an excuse to miss out on my own life? No. Am I less deserving of love and self-worth because of my acne? Definitely not. Should I be ashamed of my acne? No, because being getting acne is a completely normal human experience.

Acne isn't inherently negative, ugly, or bad by nature, it is only when we attribute those traits to acne that it becomes such. Acne happens, and that's okay.

Although I'm not completely comfortable walking around without makeup or going without covering my forehead when I have a bad breakout, I'm slowly starting to be okay with having obvious acne on my face. I'll admit that I carry around a bag of makeup with me now so that I can cover my face throughout the day, that I'm on a new acne medication plan that has reduced how intense my breakouts are, that I try to use filters to minimize my acne in photos, and that I get embarrassed to go out in public when nothing I do to cover my zits seems to work; but the crying and the disgust I used to feel when I looked in the mirror have stopped. I don't let little (or big) red marks on my face determine how I feel about myself or my life.

Because acne and beauty are not mutually exclusive. 

Ponytails

Last night I went to my sister's house for Sunday dinner. As we were about to sit down to eat, I leaned over to my four-year-old niece and told her that she was beautiful.

She stared me, confused, as she replied:

"No. I'm only beautiful when I have a ponytail."

I stared back at her, confused.

It took me longer than it should have to comprehend what she told me, but when I did, the impact of her words hit me like a ton of bricks. I was shocked.

First of all: How could a four-year-old girl already have thoughts like this forming in her head?

Secondly: How could a four-year-old girl already have established limitations and requirements for beauty?

And lastly: How could a four-year-old girl already have the same thoughts that grown women often experience? (As in, we can only be beautiful if we do certain things--makeup, clothing, hair, weight loss, etc.)

I know, I know. I'm probably over-analyzing this--I mean, I'm definitely more sensitive to comments of this nature than other people due to my experiences with eating disorders and body dysmorphia. She could have easily just said it without thinking twice or thinking negatively of herself in the process. She could have easily just been mimicking something that she heard elsewhere.

But even if that's true, even if she's just repeating what others have said, that's another serious problem in and of itself.

I think I was upset by this because I saw myself in her.

I once wrote a post about a time when my friend asked me how early my low body-image began, and while sitting here writing this, I'm realizing that it started around my niece's age.

When I was her age, I didn't just say and listen to comments like this, but I internalized them and as a result, they festered inside of me until they began to rot.

At her age, I would think that I was only beautiful when... or I would only be beautiful if...

It got to the point where I used to wish that I could take my head off of my body and place it on someone else's so that I could finally be beautiful.

I should probably mention that I understand that the thoughts I had at her age were a little more extreme than simply saying that a ponytail is what makes me look beautiful; however, the processes behind those thoughts are the same.

Feelings of inadequacy, requirement, and expectation are powerful.
Additionally, the impact of our words upon children are even more so.

Before I go any further, I want to hurry and establish that I don't think that my sister has ever caused my niece to think negatively about herself. If anything, my niece has more confidence than I do because of how she's being raised and empowered by her mother.

In fact, the same little girl that made the previous comment about herself, looked in a mirror at my parent's house a few weeks earlier with dirt and paint on her face, exclaiming: "I am beautiful!"

Maybe that's why her comment upset me.

I want to know what changed in her over the course of these past weeks to cause her to say something like this. I want to know how a thought like this slipped through the armor of self-confidence that my sister has placed on her.

Then again, I've caught myself doing the same thing on various occasions. One moment I'll love how I look and the next, I'll hate myself.

Even the strongest armor can have a chink in it.
And self-confidence can be fleeting.

It's been a long process, but I'm slowly starting to realize that I'm beautiful
no matter how I look--make up and hair done; or no make-up and hair not done. 

How often do we as women allow our self-esteem and the perception of our intrinsic beauty to be dictated by simple things like "ponytails" (when we reach the perfect weight, have the perfect makeup, have the perfect hair, or have the perfect clothes)? How often do we flip between self-love and self-hate--harming ourselves in the process? Why is it so hard to love ourselves all of the time without strings attached?

We're not always going to have our hair in ponytails (to continue the analogy), so isn't it about time that we stop saying "I'm only beautiful when I have a ponytail" and start saying "I'm beautiful".

Beauty shouldn't be reliant on the when's or if's of life.

Beauty isn't something that changes with how we look.
Beauty isn't something that dwells in our past or only exists in our future.

Beauty is now.

And it has no requirements.

Interview with Up and Up

Two weeks ago, I had the amazing opportunity to be interviewed by Sarah, from Up and Up Magazine! We talked about my experiences fighting eating disorders, coming to terms with loving my body and how spirituality can play a role in eating disorder recovery.

This interview has been a big step forward for me in my journey to help others overcome their own body image issues and disorders. When I was dealing with my disorders in high school, I was terrified of anyone finding out that I had gone through not only one, but three eating disorders.

I was terrified of weakness and being seen as someone to pity.

It was also during that time that I first began writing this blog as a way for me to cope with what I was going through. Originally, I wanted to publish it my senior year, but my mom and I decided that it would be for the better if I waited until I was in a safer environment to open myself up to the world--somewhere away from the things and people who harmed me in my past.

Thank you to all of you who have followed me throughout my journey and helped me get to this point;
I appreciate your support immensely!


Make sure to check out Up and Up and the interview below!

If you haven't used the t-shirt coupon code yet, here it is again: 

No Makeup Challenge

When I was little, I remember telling my older sisters that I would never wear makeup because it was like lying to the people around you about what you looked like. I held strong to this belief until I hit middle school and the pressure to look like everyone else became overwhelming.

So I digressed.

Seventh grade marked the beginning of a new life. It was the first time that I believed that I needed to change how I looked to not only like myself, but to have others like me as well.

To be pretty.

I would go to my locker between class periods to touch up my foundation or mascara.
I would stop by every reflective surface I came across to make sure I looked "okay".
I would wake up early each morning to make sure I had enough time to put on a new face;

A better face that I liked more.

For the past couple of months, I've wanted to do a "no makeup challenge" where you go a week without wearing an ounce of makeup and note the consequences (positive and negative) thereof.

I'll be honest with you, getting myself to commit to this was ridiculously harder than I thought it would be. I don't want to say that I was scared to go without makeup, but it was more like I was uncomfortable with the thought of it. It was an alien concept to me; a different reality that I had forgotten how to live.

I guess my morning routine of putting on makeup had become more than just a habit, it was an addiction.

Anyways, the best instigator for me to actually follow through with my plans was waking up 10 minutes before class started last Monday. In a panicked state, I had to make an instant decision:

Breakfast or makeup?

Given my history of disordered eating, It would have been a contradiction if I had been willing to let myself skip a meal for the sake of my appearance.

(Seriously though. How did I even consider going five hours without food just to have clearer looking skin?)

So,
I ate, changed my clothes, and (literally) ran to class.

Day 1

After I got back from classes that day, I decided to make this experiment official and I typed up all the thoughts that I had felt while being makeup free.

Here are just a few of them:

• It's liberating--I feel like an elementary kid again.
• I forgot what it was like to live like this...I can remember being so excited to start wearing makeup in middle school---now it's not something I necessarily want to do, but that I feel that I have to do.
• I can't describe how this feels--I feel...fresh?? Definitely not the word I was going for...its like my face is saying "ahhhhhh"--Like those actors on a minty gum commercial.
• I can actually touch my face! AND RUB MY EYES. WHAT IS THIS.
• Is it normal to feel more confident without makeup?
• Wait, how long have my eyes been green?
• I love how everyone assumes that when a girl doesn't wear makeup, it's because she slept in or is sick...even if it's true.
• I feel like myself...more authentic--Like I'm not trying to hide anything.
• Is this how it is for guys every morning? They wake up, brush their hair, eat, dress, and go?

Day 2

• Oh great. I have to give a presentation today and be filmed. Oops.
• Wait, why am I saying oops?
• Will anyone notice?
• Of course they will. You're wearing a different face.
• I wonder what people are thinking about me...
• Wait, I shouldn't care about that.
• I actually think I like this a lot better...
• Can I really do a whole week of this?

Day 3

• I look older and younger at the same time.
• Maybe I could just do foundation but no eye makeup...or tinted lip balm...
• Is that cheating?
• Maybe those acne scars aren't as bad as I thought they were.
• FACE TOUCHING IS SO WEIRD.
• Crap, I hope it's okay if I go to work like this--I can't get fired over something like this, right? 
• My eyes are HUGE.
• Do I feel tired because I am or because I've been taught that not wearing makeup means that you're tired?
• Maybe I could compensate somewhere else on my appearance to distract from this...

Day 4

If you couldn't tell, I was more than a little conflicted over how I felt about going without makeup. However, as the week went on, it became more natural for me to do ("practice makes perfect"). You can even tell in the pictures that I took, that I began to feel more comfortable with this new version of myself the longer that I got to know her, but it definitely took some getting used to.

For the first few days of going without makeup, I would look in the mirror and see a stranger. I felt as if I had missed out on a lifetime of getting to know this person. Whenever I saw her at bedtime or early in the morning, I would avert my eyes until I was done making her over.

I had forgotten what I looked like.

As I went throughout the week, I found myself standing taller and taking larger strides as I walked around campus. I felt more self-assured and capable.

I found a confidence within myself that I had forgotten existed.
Since I spent less time worrying about my face, I was able to spend more time focusing on myself.

At the beginning of the week, I was worried about about what people would think of me without makeup, but by the end of the week I was worried about having to start wearing makeup again.

(I tried to put on makeup the following weekend and it was a hot mess. I didn't realize how quickly my makeup application skills had gotten out of shape!)

Day 5

I know that a lot of women say that makeup is empowering, and I completely agree! Sometimes having a black line around your eyelashes or some color on your lips can make a world of difference with one's confidence.

But, if you have to look in a makeup bag to find your confidence, that's a problem.
Also, if you feel like you have to wear makeup because you're expected to, not because you want to, that's a problem as well.

Women are constantly told by the media and cosmetics companies that their best is never good enough.
They could always look better.
That they'll be better if they look better.

But according to whose standards?

Everyone's entitled to their own opinion, but after this experience, I think I'm going to take a break from makeup for a while. That doesn't mean that I won't ever wear it, bur rather that I probably won't wear as much as I used to.

I mean, what was I really trying to cover up with all of the foundation, concealer, mascara, and blush that I would normally wear?

Myself?
My insecurities?

You know, I'm really glad that I finally had a reason to start this challenge; it stretched me way outside of my comfort zone and I think I'm a better person now because of it.

A more confident person.
A more self-aware person.
A more self-accepting person.

I know that doing something like this doesn't work for everyone, but if you haven't done it before, I definitely recommend going a week--or even a day, without makeup. It's one of the most empowering things that I have ever done. It was like telling the world that I was okay with who I am and how I look; that I shouldn't have to look perfect to feel perfectly fine about my appearance.

Of course there were times when I felt incredibly self-conscious about how I looked, but the more that I fought those thoughts, the less they occurred.

Maybe for me, wearing makeup wasn't so much about "lying" to the people around me about how I looked, but rather a way of me lying to myself about where I got my confidence from.

I love makeup and I love the way makeup looks,
But now I love the way that I look without makeup even more.

Dots

During the last week of July, my family and I went to Bryce Canyon as our summer vacation. While I was packing for the trip, I grabbed my "I am beautiful" t-shirt thinking that this would be a great opportunity to promote the blog and to wear the shirt out in the real-world for photos that I could use in a future blog post.

However, when we got to the park my plan went totally out the window.

Why?

Reason 1-I wore the shirt once and immediately took it off (I'll explain later--also, light grey is super unforgiving when it comes to sweat marks).
Reason 2-Most of the tourists at Bryce Canyon that weekend were native French-speakers.

Oops.

Anyways, at the entrance to Bryce Canyon, there's a huge sign that has the park's name on it and as tradition dictates, a lot of visitors (including my family) stop to take photos of themselves in front of the sign before entering the park itself (there's even a column a few feet in front of the sign that was made to put cameras on for optimal photo-taking).

I had brought the shirt with me in my backpack so I could change into it for pictures since I would look like a sweaty mess if I chose to wear it for both pictures and hiking in hot weather (I found this out the hard way after wearing the shirt while sitting through a two hour "rodeo" the day before). So, I decided that the most practical spot to take a picture in the shirt would be in front of the sign rather than inside the actual park itself, so once we got out of our car I asked my sister to take a couple of pictures of me.

Long story short, although I felt great while taking the pictures, I hated how I looked in all of them afterwards.

My stomach showed.
My arms looked too big.
My thighs were touching.
My body looked wider than normal.

I obsessed over how I could have made myself look better or how I could have hid myself more.

I shouldn't have tucked in my shirt.
I should have put my arm on my other hip.
I should have angled myself differently.
I should have worn longer pants.

When I realized that those thoughts wouldn't change what happened, I tried to find ways to "salvage" the photos--and my self-esteem.

So,

I deleted.
I cropped.
I filtered.

No matter what I did, I still hated how I looked.
(Which was ironic, given the shirt that I was wearing)

I allowed negative thoughts and embarrassment about my appearance to consume the rest of my day.

Despite the eating disorders that I've been through and the steps towards self-acceptance that I've made, I'm always surprised by how easily and how often I fall back into old habits of criticizing my body.

During one of my first visits to my eating disorder doctor, Michael Spigarelli, he showed me a piece of paper that looked like this:

What do you see?

When he asked me this question, I responded that I saw a dot. He then asked me if I saw anything else and I told him that I didn't. Dr. Spigarelli went on to explain to me that by only focusing on the dot, I had forgotten to notice the rest of the paper.

How often do we allow ourselves to lose sight of the whole picture by only focusing on the "dots" that are in our lives?

And concerning my situation, how often do we allow ourselves to lose sight of our personal worth by only focusing on the "dots" or "flaws" (which really aren't flaws, but just warped personal opinions) that occur on our bodies?

We all have "dots" on us, but I think it's time for us to embrace our bodies holistically instead of obsessing over what we deem to be our "trouble areas".

Just like there was more to that piece of paper than the dot, there is more to each of us than what we perceive to be our flaws.

Our bodies aren't something to hide, crop, angle, or filter, they are perfect the way they are.

We are the sum of our parts, not the parts themselves.

It's taken me a month to figure out what I've wanted to say in this post. Since the trip to Bryce Canyon, there have been other instances where I've second-guessed my self-esteem or complained about my body. I've had the photos taken at Bryce Canyon hidden in my phone and I've avoided looking at them out of fear.

Luckily, I realize now that how I appear on film or even how I appear in general are the least important things about who I am as a person.

We all struggle with insecurities, but we need to remind ourselves that they are just a small aspect of our lives. And in my case, there was more to that trip than the photos of me that were taken there and there is more to me than those photos.

After all, a piece of paper is more than the dots that are drawn on it.

You know, I actually don't have a problem with 
this picture anymore, I love how happy I look! 

We are Beautiful

A couple of weeks ago, I announced that I was officially going to start selling the t-shirt I designed for this blog online. Thanks to all of your support, we've been able to spread body positivity one shirt at a time!

They all look different, but you can't deny how beautiful each of
these ladies are. 

I've said this before, but I firmly believe that beauty is intrinsic in all of us. Additionally, we tend to interchangeably associate attraction and beauty when they're really two totally different things.  

Beauty standards are ridiculous. They basically try to apply a "one-size-fits-all" approach to how all women see themselves. In reality, we come in different sizes, shapes, and colors. The way we look is like a genetic raffle--a once in a lifetime chance occurrence (well, technically each person is supposed have like 7 doppelgangers in the world--but even in that case, they probably wouldn't have the same mole that you have on your right foot or the same crease between your eyebrows that shows up when you sneeze...but this is beside the point.). It's also important to note that with all the possible combinations of genes in the world, it's physically impossible for all of us to naturally be what we see on the cover of magazines. 

So, why is it that we feel like all women have to look the same when diversity is in our very nature?

Why do we gamble so much of our self-worth on looking a certain way?

Theodore Roosevelt once said that, "Comparison is the thief of joy".

And I completely agree.

I don't know about anyone else, but in the past (especially during my eating disorders), I caught myself comparing my body to those of my sisters, my friends, my peers, and even strangers. For years, I not only hated myself for not matching up to them, but I also hated them based solely on the fact that they met standards I couldn't. 

I found validation for my own feelings of self-worth and beauty when I looked better than or just as good as those around me; and when I didn't, I felt worthless. In a sense, it felt like in order to gain the title of "beautiful", I had to either strip it away from someone else or risk having it taken from me. 

I think in order to feel better about ourselves, we need to think better of those around us. We need to actively stop our own thoughts of judgement (which later affect how we judge ourselves) that cross our minds when we see someone's body. Judgement, beauty standards, and body shame create a toxic environment where no one wins.

Womanhood should not be competition.

Every body is a good body.

Society teaches women that their worth and beauty are directly derived from their physical appearance. Not from who they are as living, thinking, and feeling individuals. 

Beauty has nothing to do with appearance and it doesn't have prerequisites.

You don't have to look like Cara Delevigne, Beyonce, your best friend, your cousin, or your sister to be beautiful.

Just be you.
Because you are enough.

And you are beautiful.

(~If you're interested in buying a shirt, click the shop link on the top or side navigation bar~)

Gordito

A while ago at work, I overheard two women talking about how they were fine with calling their sons fat (one had even given her little boy the nickname "gordito"), but not their daughters. As I was listening in, I couldn't help but wonder why we give so much power to such a small word and turn it into a gender-based insult (for example: we joke about men's beer bellies, but criticize stomach fat on women).

For men, its a statement.
For women, its a source of shame.

Fear of the word is literally ingrained in our psyche from infancy.

I've always thought it to be interesting that we rarely hear men complain about gaining weight or state their fear of gaining weight based on the food that they eat. (Have you ever noticed how weight-loss commercials tend show women, rather than men, promoting their products?) But as women, we've all been there; it's second-nature, a rite of passage. We navigate our lives through restrictions based on our body size.

You can't eat that.
You can't wear that.
You can't be happy as yourself.

All for the sake of avoiding or escaping identification with the worst thing imaginable.

Being fat.

I've mentioned this before, but in high school (also during my binge eating disorder) I went on a choir trip to San Francisco. As we were waiting for our flight home in the Oakland Airport, two friends and I decided to go get some smoothies before it was time to leave. I ordered a medium with whey protein (to keep me full until we reached Salt Lake), but the whey caused the smoothie to expand--so the workers had to place my order in a large cup instead. I didn't think much about it (although I was ashamed to be carrying around something so huge--which is another problem we face as women; we shouldn't feel like we need to eat like rabbits, we're human beings with human sized appetites...eating less should not be considered more feminine), until one of my friends mentioned that the sizes of our smoothies reflected the sizes of our bodies. Small, medium, and you can probably guess mine, large.

Needless to say, I was mortified and utterly humiliated at being labeled as such.

As women, we tend to have this nasty habit of self-objectifying our bodies. We worry about how others perceive us more than how we perceive ourselves.

I think my biggest problem with what she said, was that her words confirmed what I thought I already knew to be true.

I was the size large in my friend group.
I was the biggest.
I was the fattest.

And therefore, I thought I was also the ugliest.

It's so ironic how we associate body fat with being unattractive-- we see fat as a synonym for ugly. Is that really true though? Is every fat woman ugly and is every ugly woman fat? What does it even mean to be ugly? Is anyone really ugly or is it an insult we give those we don't personally find appealing?

We've all heard it said before that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but I want to go as far as to say that ugliness is as well.

So be kind to yourself (and others)! Your body is your own regardless of how much you do or don't weigh; whether your have fat rolls or defined muscle; whether you see yourself as ugly (which isn't true) or beautiful.

It's funny how we sometimes (even with ourselves) see weight first and worth second. Being fat is a fact and it shouldn't carry with it a negative connotations concerning one's value.

I want to clarify that I'm not saying that my friend was intending to make me feel bad, but I think she was grateful that she had (and I guess she was?) the smaller smoothie in this situation.

On the same note though, I was ashamed for having the larger sized smoothie (and being a larger sized person).

In all reality, both viewpoints are wrong.
It's just as toxic to judge someone else's body as it is to judge your own.

It's okay to have fat, it is okay to be fat, it is okay to love yourself with your fat.
Fat is natural. Some of us have more and some of us have less, but it shouldn't be source of shame or fear.

It's life!

We need to rewire our brains to accept the word "fat" as a neutral description, not a death-sentence. From my own experiences, I've learned that the less I care about what I eat or the fat on my body, the happier I am. I actually even like the dimples, stretch marks, and squishy aspects of my skin!

I'll admit that I have lost weight since my trip to San Francisco (due to my recovery from the eating disorder), but I still am the "large smoothie" that my friend said I was. However, I realize now that I am not less of a person for having more fat on my body than some of the people around me.

I am fat.
I have fat.
And I'm okay.

PS: This is a large smoothie :)

I Am Beautiful.

A couple of weeks ago I decided to look for a shirt that had a body-positive quote on it to wear around campus and to promote this blog. However, despite my best efforts to find one, there were literally none to be found on any website or search engine online. Slightly bitter, I decided to take matters into my own hands and designed a shirt myself. I wanted something that not only looked cool, but that also caused me to feel good about myself--I wanted it to say what I believed in the simplest and loudest way possible.

Anyways, after about a week of going through what felt like hundreds of rough drafts on Photoshop (and harassing my friends and family members for their input), I was able to decide on my final design:

 

"I am beautiful."

Is it vain? No.
Is it empowering? Definitely.

Considering the journey that I've taken over the last five years, wearing this shirt in public is a mile-marker for me. When I was going through my eating disorders, I would have never identified myself as being beautiful; I hated every pound of my body, every glance in the mirror, every aspect of my being. I thought being beautiful only applied to the girls who were, well, beautiful. It seemed like a title earned only by the select few who happened to look the part (skinny, curvy, athletic, stylish, etc).

As I've gotten older, overcome my eating disorders, and moved on from the social pressures of high school, I realize that being beautiful and being attractive are two totally different things. Beauty isn't something that you can find by going to the gym, dieting, or throwing up in a toilet bowl (despite what society may tell us). Those habits usually stem from self-loathing and the act of securing your self-esteem by constantly manipulating your appearance to favor the ever-changing preferences of the world. Believing that you're beautiful occurs when your overlook your appearance and allow your self-esteem to be anchored by your own opinion of yourself.

Being beautiful isn't determined by how we look, being beautiful is a part of who we are; it's intrinsic to every individual.


I've always thought that it's funny how we're so quick to find beautiful things in other people, but so slow and stubborn when it comes to finding beauty in ourselves. Maybe it's because we live in a world where we're constantly told how inadequate we are and that we can never be beautiful on our own; there's always a new product, a new diet, or a new workout DVD that can make us "better".

As a result, we tend to apologize for our bodies, rather than applaud them.

Society would like to have us think that a "normal" or "ideal" woman is thin, non-handicapped, young, attractive, and fit. But let's be honest, out of the millions of women who live in this world, how many would actually meet these requirements?

If beauty is really in the eye of the beholder, shouldn't we work harder to see the value within ourselves rather than placing our value in the hands of others?

By proudly acknowledging that we are beautiful, we not only challenge the ridiculous standards of the world, we overcome them. We become liberated and powerful; a force to be reckoned with. A source for change.

I've found that as I've come to accept myself as beautiful, I've been able to love my body despite how I may look or what state I may be in. I've stopped comparing myself to those around me and stopped seeing myself as a contestant in a competition or an object under scrutiny. I judge less, and as a result, I see more.

Like dominoes, my health, self-esteem, and body image have fallen into place thanks to the simple act of seeing myself as something of value. Now I know that trends and cultural standards always change, but my worth as an individual will always stay the same.

Associating yourself with beauty isn't vain or prideful, it's a sign of confidence and self-esteem.
It's loving and accepting yourself on your own terms, in your own ways.
It's a badge of courage.
It's a conscious decision and a never-ending uphill battle.

Although I still might not be consistent in associating positive thoughts towards my body, I finally appreciate it for all that it is (and isn't).

My body may not fit the current textbook definition of beauty, but I am beautiful.

Why?

Because I think so.
And that's all that matters.

(If you're interested in buying a shirt like mine, contact me [Instagram, Facebook, email, etc] or let me know in the comments below. If at least 20 people sign up for one, it will only cost about $15 per shirt instead of the $30 that mine cost. Once that happens, I can open a store on the blog and we can move on from there! Thanks!)

UPDATE: The shop for the shirts is now open! See the top navigation menu above for the link!

Free

My sister, Holly, was a good sport and took some pictures
 of me for an employee board at work. I was surprised by
how  much I actually liked how I looked in each one.
Definitely a new experience. 

Lately I've started to realize that the older I've gotten, the more prioritized and selective my free-time has become. Thanks to this, February came and went with no blog posts. 

Last month I had an appointment with Dr. Spigarelli and heard some great news.

Guess what? 

I am officially eating disorder free. 

It took me six years of battling my thoughts, my habits, and my body, but I did it. 

If you asked me six years ago if I ever thought that I would like my body at any size, I would have said no. 
If you asked me five years ago if I ever thought that I would have a healthy relationship with food, I would have said no. 
If you asked me four years ago if I ever thought that I would ever have a normal life, I would have said no. 
If you asked me three years ago if I would be alive right now, I would have said no. 

If you asked me three years ago if I wanted to be alive right then, I would have said no. 

It's amazing what time can do. 
Actually, scratch that. It's amazing what the influence of selfless people can do. 

My mom. 
Dr. Spigarelli. 
Dr. Cheung. 

Without them (and countless others) I don't know where, or who, I would be right now. 
They were my friends, my mentors, and ultimately, my saviors. 

Dr. Spigarelli mentioned during our last appointment that he had just been my cheerleader, and that I was the only person to credit for my success. 

Obviously he's right in the sense that it was up to me to find the desire to change and act upon that desire, but in all honesty, what I needed most was a cheerleader; someone who unconditionally believed in me more than I believed in myself. No one is ever "just" something. We all play roles in the lives of the people around us, whether we realize it or not. Who you are or what you do may be exactly what someone needs. 

Looking back on the past six years I spent fighting either an eating disorder mentality, or an eating disorder itself, I can't say that I regret anything that happened...which must sound crazy given all that I went through.

I was miserable, I was suicidal, and even at my lowest weight during my first eating disorder (restrictive eating/ anorexia), I loathed myself. The smaller dress-sizes, lower calories, and increased exercising didn't make me happier, they made me paranoid.

I sold my childhood to see a lower weight on a scale, only to have it stolen from me when my body said "enough" and my growing appetite became an addiction (bingeing/ bulimia).

As I gained weight at the rate of 20 lbs. per month, my world shattered around me. I had an identity crisis, and broke down. I remember thinking that if I wasn't thin or "beautiful", all I did was take up space. I felt like the "real me" was hidden under layers of fat. I thought that it was my bigger body size that kept people from I asking me to dances or going on dates.

I sincerely believed that because I weighed more, my value was less.

I realize now that it wasn't my weight that held me back, but myself.

Why is it that we tend to think that we need to change or "improve" ourselves in order to be loved or accepted by others when the only person we're really trying to earn acceptance from is ourselves?

I've been told before that God gives us trials to make us better people, and I completely agree. My experiences have opened my eyes and caused me to see the world differently. I'm more compassionate towards others, especially myself.

The lessons I've been taught through my eating disorders weren't easy, but they were worth every ounce of weight gained or lost. I know now that there's more to life than calories counted, clothing sizes worn, miles run, or weight placed on a scale; life is about living.

Even though I'm no longer medically diagnosed with an eating disorder, I still fight my past every day.
Sometimes I wish I was smaller, and sometimes I eat when I'm not hungry.
But that's okay.

Because I like who I am, regardless of body size or what anyone says I should or shouldn't be.
I am a survivor, the hero of my story.

I am free. 

Fail System

Last Sunday, I was able to attend church with my family since I had the day off from my usual Aspen Grove responsibilities. While there, I was able to listen to a friend speak about her experiences overcoming military fitness and physical criteria tests. She stated that, "...(the tests) are a fail system...especially for women with real bodies." As I listened to her continue her story, I began to think about the times when I felt frustrated with my body due to the  societal "fail system" that we constantly subject ourselves to.

It has taken me years to realize that I'm not the problem, society is.
..................................................................................................................................................................

Did you know that the U.S. weight loss market was worth $61 billion 2010 or that gym, health, and fitness clubs are currently worth $27 billion?

Apparently, making people feel inadequate is a lucrative industry.

Here are some statistics from NEDA:

1. 42% of 1st-3rd grade girls want to be thinner.

2. In elementary school fewer than 25% of girls diet regularly. Yet those who do know what dieting involves and can talk about calorie restriction and food choices for weight loss fairly effectively.

3. 81% of 10 year olds are afraid of being fat.

4. 46% of 9-11 year-olds are “sometimes” or “very often” on diets, and 82% of their families are “sometimes” or “very often” on diets.

5. Over one-half of teenage girls and nearly one-third of teenage boys use unhealthy weight control behaviors such as skipping meals, fasting, smoking cigarettes, vomiting, and taking laxatives.

6. 35-57% of adolescent girls engage in crash dieting, fasting, self-induced vomiting, diet pills, or laxatives. Overweight girls are more likely than normal weight girls to engage in such extreme dieting.

7. Even among clearly non-overweight girls, over 1/3 report dieting (Wertheim et al., 2009).

Girls who diet frequently are 12 times as likely to binge as girls who don’t diet.

8. The average American woman is 5’4” tall and weighs 165 pounds. The average Miss America winner is 5’7” and weighs 121 pounds.

9. The average BMI of Miss America winners has decreased from around 22 in the 1920s to 16.9 in the 2000s. The World Health Organization classifies a normal BMI as falling between 18.5 and 24.9.

10. 95% of all dieters will regain their lost weight in 1-5 years.



"Biggest Loser" contestant, Ali Vincent.
 “After I won ‘The Biggest Loser,’ I weighed 122 pounds for about 2.2 seconds,” she said.
“It’s been five years since I won and I’ve seen myself gain at least five pounds a year.”

11. 35% of “normal dieters” progress to pathological dieting. Of those, 20-25% progress to partial or full-syndrome eating disorders.

12. Of American, elementary school girls who read magazines, 69% say that the pictures influence their concept of the ideal body shape. 47% say the pictures make them want to lose weight.

......................................................................................................................................................................

When I started writing this post two hours ago, I had no idea that I would end up going in this direction. Maybe I researched this information for selfish reasons. But then again, it's always good to be reminded of reality rather than the fantasy that is forced down our throats on a daily basis.  I've decided that society constantly seeks to make the 1% seem like the majority in order to take advantage of the remaining 99%.

I wonder what the first step would be to changing a thought process that is so engrained into the modern human psyche... How is it that we can prevent future generations from feeling the pain of our own? How can we beat the "fail system" that has permeated into almost every aspect of our daily lives?

Honestly, I have no idea.

I guess a good start would be to become the change that we want to see in the world through loving ourselves and accepting that our best will always be good enough.

We need to stop fearing numbers, and start living life.

Ultimately, we need to adjust how we see the world (and ourselves) in order to make it a better one.   

Café Rio

During the hiatus between the end of Winter semester and the beginning of my Summer work schedule, I've been at home spending quality time with my family (and my bed).

Friday night, my parents went out of town leaving my younger brother and I alone with cash to spend on dinner and entertainment for the night. I decided to place an order online for Cafe Rio so I could just grab my food and run see a movie later. When I got to the restaurant, the to-go line was longer than the dine-in line with the average wait being 30 minutes just to get to the cashier. Long-story-short, I waited in line for what seemed like forever with at least 25 other disgruntled individuals.

You might be asking: "Alyson, what does waiting for a super delicious Pork Barbacoa burrito for an egregiously long period of time have to do with your regular blog posts?"

Well, I'll tell you!

Being the genius that I am, I decided to leave my phone in my car while I went into the restaurant to grab my food since it would be such a quick trip...little did I know how wrong I was. Anyways, without my usual technological companion to entertain my thoughts, I found myself gazing around the room and taking in the appearances of the other individuals around me while my thoughts wandered.

During high school (when my self-esteem was the lowest), my mom would tell me to look around and widen my vision when I would compare my body to that of others my age. For some reason, I would only let myself zero in on a certain type of body that I thought was prevalent and ideal according to society's standards. Because of this, I never saw just how normal I was and constantly felt like a lone Popsicle stick in a world of toothpicks (aka Utah: the land where everyone runs, has blonde hair, and watches "The Bachelor").

While I was waiting in line for my food, these thoughts came back into my head as I noticed a woman who was 5'2" and 90 lbs standing across the room. Before I could get far with my usual self-defeating comparisons, I decided to try and do what my mom had told me years ago--expand my vision. As I looked around, I noticed the different body types that surrounded me. Contrary to my predisposed beliefs, I found that her body was the minority, not mine. What a paradigm shift!

I once had a friend tell me that we're all different types of beautiful. Although I originally scoffed at her remarks, in this moment I finally understood the truth in her words. Beauty shouldn't be seen as a mold that only certain individuals fit; rather, beauty is prevalent in all of us but often times we chose, or are trained, not to see it. Isn't it interesting how we chose to place minor flaws above the perfection that already exists within us?

So, what does Cafe Rio have in common with my usual blog posts?
While waiting in line for a burrito, I realized three important concepts:

1. Real beauty is found in our differences
2. Beauty isn't defined by weight or size
3. Never order a meal online on a Friday night around 7:00pm.

Social Media Rant

It's 1:43am and I'm definitely not asleep like I was planning on being three hours ago...
C'est la vie?

I don't know about anyone else, but it seems like whenever I get on social media sites like Facebook, Pinterest, and YouTube I always come across posts about weight loss, fitness, and health. Although these can all be good things, what bothers me the most is that girls and women are constantly being fed thoughts that they aren't good enough through the influence of their peers and media. Personally, I know that whenever I see these posts negative thoughts start to stream through my consciousness as I critique and compare my appearance to that of others--it's self defeating,  like a form of  bullying.

Society criticizing the monster it created--
the irony is unbearable. 

http://articles.latimes.com/2014/feb/05/entertainment/la-et-st-biggest-loser-rachel-frederickson-too-skinny-20140205

  

                                                                                           
A few months ago I saw my younger cousin post some weight-loss pins on Pinterest. As they appeared on my screen it was hard for me to resist the urge to throw my keyboard in the air out of sheer frustration. I was upset by the fact that she thought she needed to become even smaller than the >110 lbs. that she already was.

 As I sat in my chair, stewing, I felt a knot form in my stomach as realized why I was angry with her and the world in general: I saw myself in her thought process.

When I was dieting, I lost about 40 lbs. and went from being a size 12 to a size 2/4 in three months. Even when I had pushed my natural body to it's limit I was never satisfied with myself. I wasn't small enough, the fat on my body was always too much, and I could always manage to lose a few more pounds.

I desperately wanted to look like the thin women I saw around me.
But I realized too late that "skinny" is a lie.

Lately I've been wondering if the need to be thin is an innate characteristic in females or a result of expectations placed above our heads for generations. Why do we feel the need to diet? Do we like the aspect of control that it gives us over our physical selves? Is it a competitive stigma that we feel the desperate need to take part in? Is it Darwinism, a literal translation of survival of the fittest?

Why is it that more women seem to fear gaining weight than death itself?

Any thoughts?

Society

Lately I've been wondering if women diet for themselves, or for society. When I think back three years ago to when I was 130 lbs. and eating like a mouse, I thought that I was losing weight to become who I always thought I was meant to be. In reality all I wanted was to belong, and to feel like I truly belonged in the world. When that lifestyle collapsed in on me, I felt like society didn't want me anymore.

Girls are raised to see themselves as nothing but imperfection.

After telling myself for so long that I wasn't worth a dime, I finally want to find value in myself through someone else. I understand that this is incredibly immature of me to say, but I don't think I can love myself completely until I know I'm capable of being loved.

Fat

This was a good reminder to me.
I am not fat, I am free.

Fragility

A friend of mine in my single's ward mentioned today that "you never realize how fragile life is until it is broken".

After hearing this, it caused me to look back on moments in my life when the very ground I stood on seemed to collapse below me. The winter of my Junior year was definitely one of the darkest and hopeless times of my life. My reality of being 129 lbs. and "beautiful" was completely gone. I had focused my life, my goals, and happiness around a number; once it changed, who I thought I was shattered before my eyes.

I attempted to piece my emotions back together by using food as "glue" to contain my inner-self. For brief moments during binges, I felt happy. I was carefree. Of course my insecurities never left, but for a moment I was distracted from who I was and what I was doing. I was a broken individual for a long time. I tried my hardest to keep up appearances and to plaster a smile on my face. I guess I didn't want to shatter whatever image those around me had of who I was or used to be either.

Harder times came whenever I would relapse and go back into my self-destructive habits. My vision of progress would disappear and the ugly reality I had been living would resurface. One experience that almost crushed the remaining shards of my existence happened during a choir trip to San Francisco this past spring.

I thought that I had finally reached a level point in my life. I knew I was still walking a tightrope, but I felt I was finally balancing my cravings and the disorder.  On one of the last nights of our trip, my choir friends decided to go swimming in the hotel pool. I was so ashamed of my body that I didn't even bring a swimsuit with me on the trip. So, while everyone was out having fun, I locked myself in a room. I ended eating not only my food, but the food of my roommates as well. I felt so sick afterwards, spiritually and physically. I was embarrassed that I had stooped so low as to steal other people's food. I was mad that I was so weak after all of the progress I had made. I was lost on what I should do, and how I should feel. I eventually broke down and left our hotel room to cry on the outside staircase. It was terrible night.

I called my mom for help, and I think that if I hadn't I would still be in a mess today. As I was sobbing to her over the phone, she listen to my fears, my complaints and my tears. One thing she said still sticks out to me to this day. After I finished telling her what had happened, she said, "Alyson, this isn't you". Although I was still upset over what had happened, that comment had been an answer to my silent prayers that night. I was scared that I had become an eating disorder. However, I knew my mom was right. I was person, I had values, and I had worth; an eating disorder wouldn't ever be able to change my soul.

I wish I could say this instance was my last bingeing episode, but it wasn't. It took months after my trip to San Francisco to pick myself up and feel confident in my progress again.  Although I haven't had a "true" binge since June of this year, I'm still fragile and I'm still broken.

I've decided that this is one of the hardest battles I am ever going to face in my life.

But in the end, I won't be the damsel in distress...I'm going to be the hero.

Health

While living on-campus at BYU, I've started to wonder where healthy practices turn to obsessions or societal pressures. Mormon culture can be difficult to explain when it comes to body image. We claim that everyone is a child of God and that as His children, we are all equals among each other. We also seek to become the best that we can be while we're on this earth. Unfortunately, in many Mormon societies, a massive emphasis is placed on physical appearance rather than spiritual equality. In fact, Utah is ranked as one of the highest states for superficial beauty as well as being known as one of the largest plastic surgery industries in the nation.

In all honesty, its no wonder that so many girls (including myself) have low self-esteem. We expect too much of ourselves, and we can't accept our realities as good. "Expectation is the root of all heartache."

Whenever I walk to my classes, a football game, to the store, or even to my car, I see at least one girl on campus running. I have to admit, I am a little jealous that they have the motivation and time to even exercise! However, for some girls it becomes an obsession. A performance that they want other people to see. Rather than the campus being academically competitive, many focus on keeping it physically competitive. ("Dress-Sized")

I've heard girls from out of state tell me that boys in Utah are really finicky when it come to girls. She has to be a certain way, and more so look a certain way. I'm certain this isn't true for all LDS boys in the state, but again, at least on campus, appearance is everything. Their ideal girl seems to be 125 lbs, long hair, clear skin, and petite.   

During my experiences battling my own insecurities concerning my body, I've had many chances to contemplate the value that I have as an individual. Obviously, I don't fit the standards of today's world, or even BYU society. What am worth if I can't fit in?

"But the Lord said unto Samuel, Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because I have refused him: for the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart."
Samuel 16: 7

"Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight." 
1 Peter 3: 3-4 (New International Version Bible)

Whenever I reach my lowest points, I try to remind myself that:

1. I like who I am.

2. My body was a gift.

3. I must be worth something, because my Savior died for me.

Sometimes it can be really hard to see yourself as God does, rather than what society thinks of you. Every soul is beautiful, we just came to earth in different packages.

I struggle everyday with my appearance and trying to see the beauty that is within me. I'm grateful to have the trial of an eating disorder in my life, it has refined me and how I see the world.

I may never fit the standards that society has set, but why should I care? The only opinions that matter are mine and the Lord's.

I know that when I follow His standards, I am never inadequate.