I am here tonight to share an amazing story of a woman who went from broken to BAD ASS! This is a testimonial of what can happen when you stop training and eating in way that is harmful and disordered, to training and eating to THRIVE.
I have spoken a lot lately about my eating disorder and exercise addiction.
My goal is to help women stop OBSESSING over exercise and RESTRICTING their nutrition. I want to help them see results by training in a healthy way, without slipping back into their restrictive or disordered eating tendencies.
For me, pursing what I thought was the perfect body stole my health and happiness. The crazy amount of sacrifice it took to become lean provided little (if any) reward. I have found much more fulfillment in eating and training well, treating my body with love, and appreciating all the amazing things my body does for me each day.
Please take a moment to read this amazing story of my client who has asked to keep her identity private. She has been super vulnerable here, and I can't thank her enough for sharing this with me and my readers.
"For as long as I can remember, I have been hyper aware of my body—yes, that’s part of the course for being a woman, but it was also part of being a competitive dancer.
Every negative thought, every critique in my head was in the sound of my dance teachers voice and was matched with an urgency to fix it or focus on it in a way that only a teenage girl can.
At 5’8” and 96 pounds there wasn’t many flaws to find, but in a room full of mirrors and an opinionated teacher, the slightest crease or deviance from the group felt like there was a spotlight highlighting my every insecurity.
My fingers felt too stiff, my chin too soft, my back too much of a sway, my ribs too flabby, and my toes not pointed as much as a classmate next to me. As silly as those critiques seem to me now, it was my entire world back then.
I remember standing over the scale at my first weigh-in and vowing to myself that the needle would never pass 100—as my lunches dwindled to cucumbers and my dinners to cliff bars, my goal seemed realistic.
My weight was remaining steady and I felt the itch to do more, apparently dancing 25-35 hours a week wasn’t enough. Soon I was taking acrobatic hot yoga every morning before high school, and doing the Insanity workout DVD’s every evening after I put in my hours at the studio.
I felt like I was doing something right; my teachers began to praise me, I got the centre positions in numbers, was asked to do demonstrations to the class, and was seen as a “studio favourite” by making student of the week—who cared that I went through a bottle of Tylenol a week and had my physiotherapist on speed-dial? So naturally, I felt like I needed to take it further.
Soon I was kneeling over the toilet at thanksgiving because the mashed potatoes weren’t worth it, and I was pushing myself through minor injuries because the perfect student makes it look easy.
After several years of this method, the minor injuries turned into major ones—ripped fascia’s in my calves, dislocated hips, ripped patella femoral ligament in my knee, ripped hamstrings, cracked bones in my back/neck, and turning a simple heart murmur into a condition requiring daily medication and tracking by a cardiologist.
I danced my last show when I was 18, and underneath all of the physical pain, I felt agony instead of relief. I had spent my entire life dancing, had no friends outside of the studio, and now had all of this spare time to overthink.
Now, I have what I was missing—balance. With the help of Deanna, I have been able to focus on being strong and healthy, finding clothes that are worthy of the body I have worked for, and understanding that I deserve all of the good things in life.
At 127.4 pounds (and climbing), I feel happier and more successful than I ever did at 96 pounds—all it took was looking at my life in a different perspective, several years to repair the emotional damage, a supportive partner, and good food and wine.
-xo
If you feel like you are going through something similar, please reach out to me.
When your body is talking to you, try your best to listen. It's not easy, but every little bit gets you closer to appreciating that our bodies are working so hard to keep us going.
The road to recovery is long and hard, but it is worth it. My eating disorder is a part of me but it is not all of me.
Love Deanna.
