Tag Archives: food

January 21, 2011 · 9:30 am

The First Time I Was Thankful For My Challenges

My father died when I was seven, too young to really understand what an impact that would be for me. When you’re seven you don’t think “who is going to baptize me?” or “who will give me away at my wedding?” No, that comes later.

We didn’t eat for weeks. And neighbours brought oodles of food to us. All most all of it went bad. But little miracles helped us though the really tough parts. Once we came home and the house smelled of him. We just came in and sat down; we fell asleep huddled like puppies on the living room couch. And a few others that are a little too personal to share (even anonymously).

Flash forward three months.

My grandfather was diagnosed with cancer. He lived for four months. And at the tender age of eight, I had to find myself. I know women now that are much older that I, that have no idea who they are. But when you are confronted with challenge after challenge, it becomes necessary.

Now flash another two years.

We moved in with my grandmother (who is diabetic) and my grandfather (who is disabled and in a wheelchair). Between the two of them, we had to call an ambulance at least six times in the first year! It is scary to live with older people.

But through all of the challenges that I have had I know that they were meant for me. That I needed to learn from them. And that the people around me needed to learn something too.

I would even go as far as to say that I am lucky. I have an amazing family that loves me, and great religious leaders that guide me in the right direction and even better friends. I am lucky because I have found a testimony of god, time and time again. I am lucky because I can’t hold a grudge, my uncle still blames the doctor for my father’s death. But I am lucky because I know that there was nothing that he could have done and I know that God needed him more that I did.

I could go on and on about little things that happened to me, but I would rather focus on the good. I am thankful for my challenges, because they make me stronger.

Now, I am a healthy 15 year old that has her whole life in front of her. And I can’t wait to face it head on!

 

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December 7, 2010 · 10:17 am

The first time I tried diet pills

I started at a boarding school in Grade 11. When I arrived, I had a stunning figure, slim and muscular.  I bought clothes without a care in the world. I wore my school uniform – a checked button down dress with ease. I remember another girl in the grade below me complimenting me one day on what a nice body I had. (Don’t get any ideas, yes this was an all girl’s boarding school, but she was merely making an observation!)

I was homesick and unable to speak to my parents on the phone; they lived in a remote part of Africa.  I was thrown into higher grade Maths and French which until then in my school life I had excelled at. All of a sudden I had to prove theorems and had oral exams in French.  My new friends and teachers comforted me, but the comfort I also sought solace in was…. food.

The meals themselves were not the healthiest. As anyone from boarding school will know, breakfast, lunch and dinner are inevitably smothered in some kind of cheese. I did not complain.  Sunday lunches were something I looked forward to… cauliflower in cheese, roast potatoes with gravy… ahh, just thinking about it now makes me hungry! The tuck shop had wonderful chips and chocolate for sale every day after prep… there was a couple weeks where I had a Tempo bar and BBQ Fritos every day.

As the months wore on my uniform became tighter and tighter.  A friend and I decided we had to do something about our weight gain. (Exercising and eating less was just not glamorous enough) and instead went to the pharmacy for diet pills.  We bought Thinz. They were within our budget, easy enough to take, and we could hide them in our closets.

About a week after taking the pills my friend and I were the most irritable we had ever been. We snapped not only at each other, but at other friends as well. Everything and everybody just seemed to annoy us.  We were in such foul moods that it scared us a bit.. most of the time we were always laughing and very carefree. However all of a sudden we were being horrible to everyone and feeling terrible.  It was an easy decision to make.. stop the pills. Life was just not fun, and instead of losing any weight, we were on our way to losing friends.

It’s been 10 years since then… I am still on the journey to get back to that slim muscular figure. I have realized though that diet pills just aren’t the answer and only hard work on my part will get me there.

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September 29, 2010 · 9:00 am

My First Dreams For My Body

My body is soft in all the wrong places.

I hate looking at my body. I can’t help but feel repulsed by it. Why can’t it play the game and look gorgeous? Why can’t it be strong and supple?

I am told that when you accept your body and believe that it is gorgeous then that positive body image is projected into the world and people start seeing you in a different light. A more receptive beautiful light. A slender, toned, sculpted, flab and wobble free light. I don’t buy it.

All I see is soft dimpled skin and a nose that looks like a button and freckles that seem to multiply when one just glances at them. Skin that is afraid of the sun and insides that are afraid of sugar – but crave it.

I want so badly to love my body, but it just seems to betray me at every turn. It cant eat yeast, it wont accept sunflower oil, it breaks out in burning pain at the mere thought of sugar and wine makes me aggresive and then a trip to the hospital is a possiblity. How can one be partial to a body that seems to make enjoying life so tricky?

But when I move I feel like one person. No longer fighting my body, but simply loving the way it glides in the room. Dancing is the one thing that saves me. It injects life into me and makes me love myself, all of me. My skin can be burning away because I caved in and bought that green tea ice-cream when my friend wanted one after dinner or my joints could be screaming with pain because I indulged in too much pasta – but when I start to dance the world melts away and everything feels right.

The moments when I come together are so precious to me. They make me realise that clinging to a dream is worth every sacrifice. Because if I let go of my dream then I cannot see me ever loving myself. And that is not a future that I relish.

I don’t think that your perception of yourself can change by simply shifting the way you think about yourself. It takes more than a mind shift, it takes dreams and hopes and the possiblity of realising goals. I love myself when I am doing what I love, there is a direct relation between action and knowing and feeling. I cannot convince myself that I am wonderful if I just sit back and let my dreams fade away.

Why can’t I see that it is a great body? I think it’s because I let someone tell me that my dream was no longer an option. I let go of my dream and the road to loving myself became dust. I started honestly taking hold of my dreams again despite what people had said and now I am ready to stop hating my body and believing that it failed me. It had only lost its dream.

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