The Freedom of Taking Up Space
(TW: eating disorders)
I spent the entirety of my twenties in a battle with myself.
In my early twenties I starved myself. A full meal might be a Slimfast shake and a Diet Coke, or maybe a Snickers bar and 3-4 cups of coffee. And after work, I’d spend an hour on the treadmill or elliptical, burning off all those calories I consumed during the day.
In my mid-twenties, I got into “fitness.” Which probably was a step in the right direction, as I started to pay more attention to protein and vegetables, but really just gave me more to obsess over. Every Sunday I’d spend hours planning my meals for the week, trying to find perfectly-balanced macro meal plan. My workouts changed in this era, a lot more strength training and high intensity interval training. During the day at my job, I’d plan out my workout routine for later in the day. Then, when I’d get home, I’d workout, hard, then cook dinner, then have so little energy left that all I could manage was flopping down on the couch and watching TV. Dishes piled up, waiting for the weekend when maybe I’d have the energy to wash them.
This eventually led to a different sort of cycle, where my body was desperate for food, but I was still restricting to starvation levels. Then I would binge at the end of the day, eating pints (even once a quart) of ice cream, eating anything I could get my hands on. And then punishing myself with exercise, trying (and failing) to burn it all off.
During this time, I was exhausted, not making time for things I loved, not able to think clearly or focus very well. I was filled with self-loathing and self doubt. I was drinking coffee constantly, just to get myself through the day. My every waking moment was focused on how my body looked, whether it was good enough, and my health and relationships were suffering because of it.
Now, in my thirties, I’m no longer fighting against myself. And I know the exact moment that everything changed.
One day, early in the pandemic, I was researching diets. Because that’s what I did! I was always researching diets or how to lose ten pounds, or whatever specific thought about my weight and my body had set me off that day, and I had come across an article about the French way of life. That first article might have even been a review of Mireille Guiliano’s book, “French Women Don’t Get Fat.” Which sounded perfect! After all, not getting fat had been my obsession for years.
But much to my surprise, the French approach was not about restrictive eating patterns and intense exercise. Yes, portion control came into it, but the focus was on eating such lovely things that you didn’t need to binge them. Instead, you savored them.
This approach seemed to play out in all aspects of their lives, too. Wine was savored. Wardrobes were smaller but filled with quality clothes. They walk places, rather than drive, and enjoy the time they pass doing that. They don’t engage in intense exercise.
I, being the type of person I am/was, took all of this to heart. I made a plan to follow to start to embrace more of the French lifestyle. I thought about it borderline obsessively. I put a strict structure into place so I could be more like the French! (Surely you see what I did not at the time, that this is the antithesis of how I just described the French approach. C’est la vie!).
And then, in another research session I was doing, into how French women lived, I came across a quote, from a French woman (I wish I could find it again – but it’s burned into my memory).
“Of course French women exercise. We just have more interesting things to talk about.”
This absolutely stopped me in my tracks. Because it was 100% right. My focus on dieting and exercise, and making myself tiny, and focusing on how I looked, had made me dull.
I’d ask friends what workouts they were doing. I’d share about the great successes of my low-carb diets. I’d talk about the sugar-free ice cream I’d been eating. And that was it, really.
I didn’t talk about music or art or excellent books I’d read. I didn’t talk about the gorgeous things I’d grown in my garden. Because I wasn’t reading books or looking at art, or going to see live music. I didn’t have a garden, because caring for it was too much and would take away from my exercise time. I didn’t ask my friends about their families or their challenges, or any of the beautiful things they might have been experiencing, because the only thing on my mind was losing weight.
So, I practiced relaxing, and letting go.
I made lovely meals, and savored every bite. I ate more slowly when doing this, and noticed when I was naturally satiated. I focused on high quality ingredients.
I did exercise that brought me joy. I hiked, I ran outside to feel the sun on my skin. I did gentle movement like yoga and pilates, that challenged me without punishing me.
Suddenly, I found myself with much more energy. After dinner, I’d have the energy to wash the dishes, and then sit down and read a book, rather than disassociating in front of a screen. I was able to call my friends and have real conversations. I started writing and painting, things that I had done when I was younger, but that I had given up on because I simply no longer had the headspace for it.
During this time, I got a master’s degree, a coaching certification, and a new job, because when I stopped focusing on making myself as small as possible, I had so much mental capacity to do things that I loved, that mattered, that brought me joy.
I started to get invited to speaking engagements. I started to garden. I was asked to be on the Board of Directors at a non-profit in my community. I started a book club. I stopped punishing myself for every little thing, and instead just let myself live.
Did I gain a little bit of weight? Yes. I did. Enough that my eyes aren’t sunken in any more, my cheeks are a little rounder and more full. My hair is thicker, and my skin has a glow to it. I move with a confidence that I didn’t use to have. I laugh, a lot. I am focused on the joy I can feel, the difference I can make in the world, just by giving myself permission to take up a little space.
With love,
Charlotte
