Skinny-Fat

Eating disorders are real. They are scary. But with the right support, they can be managed and cured.  If you or someone you love is affected, please reach out for help.

I have a little secret, a big one really. For years, I've lugged it around and guarded it as jealously as a mother wolf guards her cubs. It's not a secret that is fun to carry like how-a- surprise-birthday-party-for a-friend-type-of-secret would be. In fact, it overwhelmed me for years and only after meeting a particularly courageous woman did I look deep within and felt ready to speak out.  I first wrote this story over six years ago.  Here's an update.

I am a recovered anorexic. But can I really say recovered? Each day I retrain my brain a little more. I struggle to be okay with the weight I am at and the size of jeans I wear, repeating my mantra more than a number. I frequently strain to see what I really look like to other people. I still see someone who is not quite in the best of shape, perhaps a few pesky pounds that could be shed.  After starting my fitness journey I know I'm not perfect, but I'm healthy and I *feel* better.  My confidence grew after completing P90x and continues as I plug in with ChaLEAN Extreme.

People ask me why I got that way...how I thought I was fat enough to warrant starving myself. All I can say is dysmorphia (think carnival mirrors). I know when it started: a comment from an acquaintance, a few extra pounds (I was what I like to call "skinny-fat"). My solution, at 15, was to eliminate the problem: food.  I know I won't relapse into anorexia again - I have truly discovered the love of food. All foods, not just white rice and carrot sticks. I don't hide food under my bed or take portions that would deprive a toddler.  I enjoy working out, and I need energy to do so.  Anorexia is not an option with rigorous exercise.  Period.

I am realistically aware that my family loves me for who I am, that I am nowhere near obesity, and I am actually at an ideal weight. That nagging voice still finds a way into my consciousness and I experience a little bit of doubt. After years of considering some fad diet, pills or some promising diet drink, I found Beachbody.  I am surrounded by healthy, supportive people.  Shakeology is a wonderful supplement, and one that has probably saved my life.  I caught myself in an unconscious relapse, consuming 900 calories a day and exercising hard.  I was able to supplement lost calories with it while I screwed my head back on.

The scale has never been an arch enemy, but in a way, I used it against myself. "I'll just check to make sure I'm not over xxx pounds," and again, I indulged that bratty body image. With Beachbody, I've learned to go by *how* I feel and measurements, not my weight.  I will discourage anyone who gauges their progress by weight alone.  I weigh the most I've ever weighed, but I say again: I am healthy.  If I worked out and expected pounds to melt, I'd quit.  Please note that I have lost nearly 12 inches and maintained my weight at 130.  Muscle weighs more.

I have spent thousands treating and repairing the damage to my body: malnourishment can and will lead to hair loss, rotten teeth and other deficiencies and health problems (migraines).  And for what? The sake of being skinny.  At such an enormous expense.  A most important lesson I've learned from Beachbody: I am more than a number.  Not the size of my jeans or the pounds I weigh.  Health IS wealth.  Set realistic goals for yourself.  Make your health your priority, take measurements and gauge your progress by how you feel.  Not just what the scale glows back at you.