just eat…

When I was a teenager, I had an eating disorder. In some ways, I never really got over it. I’ve replaced restricting food by its caloric value with judging food by its nutritional worth. I’ve tried cleanse after cleanse, much of which has been documented here, and most of which has ended up in a colossal disaster – an unhappy, unhealthy Maya.

Every few months, I end up in the doctor’s office after another round of invasive tests to hear the same news: there is nothing wrong with my innards (thank heavens!). My problems all stem from my head and my heart. The stress I carry manifests itself as gnarly digestive problems. 

When you’ve heard this same “diagnosis” a few times, you start to get very, very frustrated. Why? Because sometimes it’s easier to just deal with a tangible – i.e. you have Celiac, ban gluten and you’ll be all better. Tangible problem, tangible solution. My predicament is more complicated – I have to rework my relationship with food. It may be a life-long journey. 

I’ve been a lot better recently. A lot. But we all backslide sometimes, and so have I. I found myself once again stressing over my plate and latching onto various ideas of how to “fix” my diet (a.k.a. fix my life). Then, last night, I went out for dinner with my lovely, lovely girlfriend.

We serendipitously ended up at Playa Cabana in the Junction and had a blast. Four hours, three margaritas (each!) and several fish tacos later, we had exchanged our various food-related woes. She shared with me what her wise doctor told her. It’s quite possibly the best advice I’ve heard in a while.

Just eat.” That’s it. No rules, no stress. Here goes. 

Happy Fridays!


doing the work: coming clean…

“Until you learn to heal the wounds of your past, 
you will continue to bleed into the future.”
~ Iyanla Vanzant

Oh boy! What a busy week it’s been. Busy, but amazing. 

During my dinner date with one of my very best friends, I realized that despite knowing her for almost 10 years, she didn’t, until Friday, know a big part about me.  

Then I realized that perhaps few people do… and really, that’s just silly. It’s time to share.

Here goes…

Last year, I wrote about the stories we tell ourselves about who we are.

There are a lot of chapters to each of our stories. An eating disorder is one of mine.

Like for many, junior high was essentially torture for me. I had gained a few pounds before I started grade seven, as many preteen girls do; that chubbiness, combined with my enrollment in the full time “gifted” program (an odd social experiment), essentially made me the perfect target for prepubescent torture (oh yes, I also went to band camp).

I dealt with it as I knew best – I threw myself into sports and, at the tender age of 12, I started my first diet. 

By the end of my first year of junior high, I had dwindled to a tiny size and the interventions began. I had anorexia.

Interestingly, I have blocked out most of the memories around this topic. All I know is that while I managed to heal the anorexia, my distorted and unhealthy body image has plagued me until today. In my twenties, I developed a new coping mechanism: at times pushing myself too far with exercise and always dissecting every morsel that went into my mouth. I became a pro at setting myself up for failure and beating myself up for it. Not surprisingly, I made myself physically sick.

I’m sharing this (long) story for two reasons:

  • While doing my homework, I have realized that the very first step to moving forward is to evaluate where you’re starting.It’s essential to come clean.  
  • The very act of coming clean can help others tremendously, even if it’s just to know that they are not alone. That’s the main point of this blog, after all: to share my journey so that it may, in whatever small way, help someone else.

Phew! What a long post! As always, thanks for reading… and happy Sunday!

Happy tumbling & stumbling!

P.S. I’ve moved Sabbath Sunday to Sabbath Friday/ Saturday for the next little while. I’ll explain later. 🙂