When in Chicago: Don't forget to get lost

I first visited Chicago as a wide-eyed six year old, intent on visiting the American Girl store and dining at the Rainforest Café.  But Kit Kittredge is packed away in a box, and animal-themed dining didn't seem as appealing when I set off for Chicago last weekend.  I boarded the Megabus with anticipation of the Latino Film Festival as well plans for what I could do with my free time.  This was the first time I'd voyaged to the windy city without my family in tow, and it was somewhat liberating to set my own agenda.

While I loved previous visits to Shedd Aquarium and boat tours along the lakeside, I had more inexpensive activities in mind....namely: I would explore the city at random.

Given my type-A nature, this was both invigorating and terrifying, but here's what happened:


1. I learned my way around!
Here's the fantastic thing: When you get lost enough times, you eventually map out your surroundings.  Even better, you get to see so many different places then you would if you just followed Google Maps like every other tourist.  I can't say I didn't sheepishly peer at street signs, but I can say that I gained confidence as a navigator and adventurer.  Long live spontaneous exploration!

2. I found an awesome tea store and book store

I saw this in a gift store.
It is 100% accurate to my life.

I'm a bit quirky- no qualms with that- so while my classmates were ogling at Armani bags and $500 tank tops, I wandered into Adagio teas and fell in love.  The shelves were lined with loose leaf teas, and the saleslady encouraged me to pick up the jars of tea and smell them.  "If there are any that catch your eye, I'll make a sample for you!"  I suppressed my inner tea nerd and merely nodded, all while trying to contain my excitement.  All the prices were listed by the jars and no one pressured me to buy anything.  They were genuinely friendly and their tea was incredible.  I walked out with a sample of verbena green tea and some almond mocha oolong tea.

As if that wasn't good enough, I then made my way down to a bookstore.  I'd had enough stimulation for one day and couldn't think of anywhere I'd rather spend my time than a used bookstore called After-Words, with a basement boasting 70,000 books.  The shop owner was just as quirky as I'd hoped and the books just as eclectic.  I was overwhelmed at my option, but prudently made a selection and handed over my $4 with elation.  "This place is awesome," I raved to the shop owner.  He made some corny joke about Butler and I made some awkward smile and walked out.

3. The Latino Film Festival was amazing!
I was wary of a few of the films that we were scheduled to see.  One in particular seemed a bit more "adult" than I cared for.  Sure enough, I spent most of the movie carefully inspecting the hem of my shorts.  But the second movie more than made up for the first.   "Espejuelos Oscuros/Dark Glasses" was a thought provoking and disturbing portrayal of the secret stories we all carry.

4. I stepped out of my comfort zone
Besides literally stepping out of my comfort zone by meandering around the city, I also faced the challenge of traveling without any real friend/family member.  That brought the added testing of sitting on the bus and eating meals out at restaurants with these people-- both of which are a strong source of anxiety due as I recovery from an eating disorder.  While the weekend was not without its blunders, I was encouraged at my ability to handle the situations.  I know I would not have been able to do so at this time last year, and for that I praise God.  As my dad gingerly reminded me, these challenges are good because they help me embrace my freedom and break out of my little "safe box" of recovery.  And as difficult as aspects of the trip were, I know that the next time I come across those same struggles, it will be just a little bit easier.  That makes the effort absolutely worth it.

The greenhouse at Nay Pier

Dylan's Candy Shop on Michigan Avenue.
It's a wonderland of candy and treats!

Tapas at Café Iberico! A challenging, new
experience for me!

Adagio Tea.  Basically Heaven.

 Much like my blog, my weekend in Chicago was a series of spontaneous adventures, augmented by familiar comforts and the constant presence of the Lord's grace.  And I wouldn't have it any other way.  So then next time you're in Chicago, run along the lakeside and take in the views at Navy Pier (RELATED: Girls' Weekend in Chicago). Stop by Adagio Tea and The Chicago Tribune and Café Iberico, and- seriously- don't forget to get lost in the wonder of it all.

Love,
Hannah

To read about more suggestions for your next Chicago adventure, click HERE and HERE.

(Happy?) National Eating Disorder Awareness Week

It's national eating disorder awareness week, but unlike National Letter Writing Week or National pancake day, I'm not celebrating in a gleeful-delight.  How do you "observe" something so destructive, so poisonous?  

To be honest, I've walked through this week,like most others, with the goal of further divorcing my eating disorder. So this has me in a tough spot, a "now-but-not-yet" kind of spot.

I'm not 2014 Hannah, the girl who lived in blustery denial. I'm no more 2015 Hannah, who was walking through the fire of treatment and lived in the bubble of therapy and dietitians and treatment friends and the momentary realizations that there was more to life. This year, I've cast off the safety net. I am healthier than I've ever been, but I still walk through my day with recovery on the forefront of mind. Full healing of anorexia dominates the thoughts of schoolwork, relationships, athletics and future. It's the now-but-not-yet. 

This reality collides with NEDA Week, a harsh wind to an otherwise sunny day.  Do I keep talking about eating disorders, keep posting about my experience until people become educated but also box me in as "that girl who had anorexia?"

Frankly, I'm not sure. 

I don't know how to handle this part of recovery, because I haven't been here yet. But I do know that, at some point, God will guide me onto new things, that won't include talking about my eating disorder every day.  And I will gladly move forward.  Anorexia will be a distant memory and I will no longer write about it all the time, and BOY will that be grand! But even as that day approaches, I keep my eyes and ears tuned to what the Spirit, always ready to give an answer for the hope that lies within me (1 Peter 3:15).

So...eating disorders. They take a long time to heal from.  It's typically a 3-5 year process- and a heartbreaking 20% of anorexia sufferers will end up dying before they eradicate the disease. It's a process that is beautiful and gut-wrenching, and it's altogether the hardest road I've ever traveled.  If you or someone you love is walking through recovery, let this be a wake up call, a reminder that just because the battle is not yet finished, doesn't mean it is not being valiantly fought with every bite. 

And so, I keep writing and talking and letting transparency numb the fear in my heart that says "what if they know?!"  And someday soon, God will tell me that I get to speak out about something else, something new He is doing in my life, and I eagerly await that day.   The Bible says we will defeat satan by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony (Revelation 12:11), so that's why my testimony goes forth, and as the Lord molds and develops our testimonies, it's our job to go where He leads.  Whether your ministry is in mental health or marriage or athletics or school, be ready for the Lord to move you along into bigger and better things as He crushes those strongholds in your life.  

For more information on eating disorders, please refer to these posts:

What Different Types of Eating Disorders are There?

Why Strong is NOT the New Skinny

Let's Talk about Eating Disorders

Eating Disorders Don't Discriminate by Age

Love,

Hannah

The Timeline of God's Goodness in Your Life

Well, I'm officially 21, but-- in full disclosure-- I still play on playgrounds and cuddle with stuffed animals.  I've yet to drink alcohol and I know squat about doing taxes.  So, I'd be hard pressed to tell you what magical transformation actually occurred on Friday to make me an "official adult"  (I'll report back on that one).  What I do know, however, is that I am incredibly blessed to have 21 years under my belt. 

 My parents say that I first entered the world screaming my head off.  I was probably upset that my comfort and stability had been jostled by this thing we call life, and I've been Type A ever since.  But Type A is discipline and order.  Type A is NOT regulations and rituals, restrictions and isolation.  That came on the tail end of divorce (and if you haven't yet heard my testimony, I encourage you to read about God's goodness HERE).  

 

In our segmented little lives, we often miss the timeline of God's goodness.  For me, this birthday acted like a virtual time capsule, a reminder of where I've come from and where I'm going.  See, I spent my last birthday in treatment for an eating disorder that had ravaged my life.  I couldn't fathom sitting down with friends or eating a brownie or relaxing.  But God works in the anguish of our souls.  He lifts us from the pit into the light of day.  At 21 years-old, I'm experiencing that light for the first time.

I've recently been reading about the life of Jacob in Genesis, and boy, is it a story of struggle I can really resonate with  All through his life, Jacob kept trying to manipulate things for his own good fortune.  Heck, he even fought with his brother in the womb (Genesis 25:22).  He tricked his father into blessing him with his brother's birthright and later in life, he slept with his wive's servant in order to have a son.  He was living like a desperate soul with no maker.  And it begs the question: Why?  Despite a blessing from God, clear provision and even a angelic dream from the big man himself, Jacob couldn't grasp the knowledge that God is for us. 

See, all through Jacob's life-- in spite of Jacob's own thwarted efforts-- God upheld His end of the deal.  He blessed Jacob abundantly and He kept His promises.  

That same character of God is true for you and for me.  Wherever you started: God was there.  And from the moment of creation, He has been actively pursuing you in order to give you what satisfies you most, namely: Him.  I've been amazed this week at just how far God has brought me and how faithful He has been in my journey to restored freedom.  I'm approaching a year of being at a restored weight, and I can't help but fall on my face in the presence of the Lord's goodness that never ends.
And Jacob?  Well, He struggled his way into a wrestling match with God.  A crippled hip stayed a reminder for the rest of his years, that God is good and faithful.  As Frederick Buechner said, it was "a magnificent defeat of the human soul at the hands of God"  (The Magnificent Defeat).

Amen.  I pray that your soul and mine will be crushed by the realization of who our God truly is.  He is faithful and His goodness flows deeper than our sin (RELATED: Peace Like a River).  And THAT leaves me awestruck (RELATED: An Awestruck 2016).

I'd love to hear about the timeline of God's goodness in your life.  Comment below or send me an email at hh12995@gmail.com.  Be blessed!

Love,
Hannah

What I Wish They New

"I ate so much yesterday, that I'm not going to eat much today."

Thus went my conversation with someone last week.  I say conversation, but it was really just a nod from me as I tried to block out the influx of anxiety that was flooding into my body at that very moment.

Most people know my story.  I'm open about it, and that transparency is very deliberate.  However, I still feel like there is such a misunderstanding about eating disorders and the recovery process.  A lot of the time, people either view me as "the eating disorder girl" or they forget that aspect of my life completely and expect me to fully immerse myself in the normalcy of life.  As if eating dinner was just eating dinner.

And that's what I've been struggling with lately: The pain of feeling alone when everyone thinks life is perfect again.  In full disclosure, I am actively in recovery and not relapsing.  I'm not writing this as a covert call for help, but it has been really tough lately and it does feel like everyone just expects me to "be better."  So what happens then?  What happens when the world forgets?

At the risk of sounding whiney, I must confess that it feels that way this week.  It feels that way when people say triggering things about weight and food.  It feels that way when no one asks me how I'm doing or what is going on in my heart.  It also feels that way when I hear the ever-looming "average recovery time," ticking like an obnoxious clock.

But as I vent on my own struggles, I realize that I'm surely not the only one feeling forgotten.  There must be others just like me who are walking through trials and have little outward indication of their inner battles.  And I want to be someone who can detect and search through the outer layers to comfort the heart of others.  That is what I want for myself, and it's what I long to give others.

See, no trial in life is merely erased when the physical realm is washed anew.  The roots of heartache and pain are gingerly pulled, and the fighter often forgoes the healing process alone because nobody sees.

My personal message here is clear:  Healing from an eating disorder takes time.  If you are supporting someone or are going through recovery yourself, remember this crucial nugget of wisdom.  It is a long term process.  Those in recovery are pursuing a life away from the eating disorder, but that doesn't mean it's not a constant threat.  Outward serenity doesn't mean that someone in recovery doesn't need your support anymore.

But this post has a larger message than just my own struggles lately.

In reality, I'm trying to extend a message of human kindness, encouraging us all to look after each others' hearts.  We may not know the extent of each other's brokenness, but we owe it to each other to find out.  That is part of our beautiful humanity.  We are all needing love, and while I believe that Christ alone satisfies us, we were created to be in community.  We need each other.

As I reflect on my own struggles with loneliness and recovery battles, I realize that others around me feel that same desire to have support.  Lets commit to trusting God to bring the right supporters alongside us, and lets turn our focus to the pain in others that we know all too well.

In Awe: Blessed By The Journey

After arriving back at Butler this evening, I spent an exorbitant amount of time organizing everything I own.  I (sadly) packed up my Christmas decorations, reorganized my closet and drawers and cleaned my room.  And as I was putting away my coats, I found a little note tucked in my pocket, that made me tear up with thoughts of home.  Yet, I was smiling all the same, because my heart is healthy and happy tonight.  Sure, life isn't perfect and I'm injured and I'm still actively in recovery.  All those things are true.  But what's also true is that I am in a much better place than I've ever been, and I think my family knows that too. (RELATED: Roadblocks (?))

What better way to start of An Awestruck 2016, than to think of what God has done since this time last year.  See, last year I was firm as concrete that I would stay "a week or so" longer at home, in order to do a short stint in recovery and go back to school.  That was my plan.  Two weeks turned into about ten weeks and I'm grateful to God that His plan is sovereign. (RELATED: NEDA Awareness Post #4: Recovery Takes a While)

That was what I needed.  I needed nourished in my body and in my soul.  I needed help.  I needed constant love and support, encouragement to keep pressing on.  Essentially, I needed to learn how to live again, and that doesn't coincide very well with the demanding schedule of a college student.  So I returned to Butler, only to pack up my room and retrieve my belongings.  And I was filled with such shame. (RELATED: Tear the Walls Down and Start Planting)

But here's the thing: The Lord works in all circumstances, and I already see this past year as the most rewarding year of my life, even though I don't believe the harvest period has even come yet.  In that humble place, I learned to be desperate-- and that is one of the most crucial lessons mankind can learn.  For when we are truly desperate, we learn what we need and what is frivolous; and in our desperation we find what matters.  I already knew God was the most important in my life, but I wasn't awestruck with Him.  I was just holding on for dear life.

It's crazy what a year can do, and at the same time it's not.  I know how much hard work has gone into this year-- both by myself and all those who've supported me.  But my hard work pales in comparison to the tsunami of God that has washed over the old Hannah.  He has worked His way into the bitterness and fear, the control and anxiety.  Forgiveness comes easier, panic attacks are lesser and I am more flexible with my life and my activity level.  

And it's all because of the Lord.

It's a testimony to His goodness, and not my own.  His plan is sovereign and the more He opens my eyes to what He is doing, the more I am in awe of the grace and love that pursue me.  Praise God! (RELATED: When God Gives you $20 and You Complain)

This next semester of school is a brand new adventure, one I wasn't able to embark on last year.  So I eagerly anticipate the joys and stresses that await me these next few months.  I'm ready to be even more awestruck by my God.  

I know that as I lean in closer to Him, He will become clearer.  Those chains of the past will become remnants of a girl I knew long ago.  The same can be true for you today, and I pray that our hearts will draw nearer to the Lord this year as we embark on our 2016 adventure together.  

Love,
Hannah

Unhinged

As I sit in my bedroom in Ohio, it's hard to imagine I'm going to be leaving just five days from now.  Sure, the big pile of stuff in the corner would suggest as much, but it's still a bit surreal.  For the past seven months, I have worked harder than I knew I could.  I have surrendered more than I thought I should.  All in all, it has been God's grace that has brought me to this point.  Only the Lord could take a broken, isolated heart, and make it new (RELATED: No Longer Stuck in Motion).  At times, I haven't truly believed it was possible.

But now I'm getting ready to return to college and run DI cross country.  I'm healthier than I have been in over four years.  I am so excited to take on Butler with the joy of the Lord- run with all my heart, make friends and study hard!  

Me at the fair last week (P.C: Heather Dugan)

I'm not naive enough to think it'll be a simple transition, but I've set up the accountability I need to be successful in this step.  And when the enemy tells me that I will be lonely or fail or spiral downward, I remind Him that God has given me wisdom in these seven months.  I remind Him that I have been freed from my chains, and I am moving forward from all that was.  I remind Him that God has already gone before me, and is preparing the way.  And then, I remind myself.

Sometimes, we get so hooked on the ordinary that we stop listening to the voice of God.  We think we have it all figured out and don't need or want anyone else's help.  That's where I was last year, that's where I'd been for most of my life.  But that's not sustainable.  We all need love.  We need grace and mercy and freedom.  This time at home has allowed me to listen to the voice of God and realize that my "ordinary" was killing me, and that the things God wants for my lift are even better than I can imagine (Ephesians 3:20).

So this is me, unhinged.  Unhinged from an eating disorder, unhinged from what has become comfortable, unhinged from fear and unhinged from isolation.  This is me proclaiming the glory of the Lord as I head back to Butler, a new person entirely.  I'm still on the road to recovery, but I look forward with hope because I know where I've been and I know just how powerful God is, to have brought me out of that place.  All I need to do is listen for His voice to guide me.

In all honesty, that's all we can ever do.  Hard work and planning certainly have their place, but when it comes to issues of the heart: Only He can provide the answers, motivation and plan that we need.  I hope this isn't just a dismissible rant.  I hope it serves as a testimony of the goodness of God.  I will be praying for all of you, that you too may tune your ear to hear more of God and less of your own fear and condemnation.  I would also appreciate your prayers for me: That I may continue in transparency, drawing nearer and nearer to God, and letting Him lead me to freedom.

We are all on this journey together, and for that: I am most grateful.

Love,
Hannah

St. John Vacation 2015

Yesterday, I packed up my suitcase and-- with great hesitation-- left the island of St. John.  After a week of swimming at the beach; hanging out with my family and tenaciously attacking the hills on my morning runs, it was time to go home.  As I took one last swim in the ocean, I reminisced on the girl who had visited St. John last year.  I was suddenly struck with immense gratitude that the Lord has intervened in my life since then, that He has rescued me from that life.  When I was in the depth of my eating disorder, there was no such thing as a "vacation."  The thoughts didn't stop.  The anxiety didn't dull and the fatigue didn't subside.  As I've said before: I was stuck in motion.


But this year's vacation was different (RELATED: Spring Foward). It was paddleboarding in the ocean and reading on the beach. It was hiking and running and napping when all the activity wore me out.  It was Bananagrams with my family and movie nights full of laughter.  This year was better for so many reasons, but to keep it short and sweet, I've rounded out the top five reasons my trip to St. John was made better by God's grace in my recovery from anorexia. Take a look, and remember: All the glory is to Him:

1. Relaxing with my family
One of the best parts about this past week was the culmination of all the little things.  I enjoyed the ease of being able to hang out with the group, and being able to focus on fun instead of food or exercise.  We had movie nights almost every evening and it was such a blast to be at rest, in every essence of the word.

2. Snorkeling
Snorkeling is hands-down one of my favorite activities! I'm fascinated with the notion of being part of a different world, observing the buzz of life just under the water's surface.  For the past few years though, I could never snorkel for more than twenty minutes because I would get so cold and tired in the water.  But I am physically healthy now, and as if that isn't enough of a miracle, God decided to shower me with blessings while I snorkeled last week.  I saw sting rays, turtles, flounder, squid, pufferfish, eels and thousands of other colorful creatures.  Each one was a little reminder: "I love you Hannah."

3. Food!

This is the Chicken Parmigiana I had at da Livio. 

It may sound crazy, but my family's favorite place to eat on the island is a  little Italian restaurant in the center of town.  It's amazingly authentic and I knew that we would be going there during the trip.  So, with  much apprehension: I sat down with my dietician and told her I wanted to challenge myself to eat dinner at the restaurant-- which has no nutritional information available, sufficiently freaking me out.  She helped me figure out something to fit my mealplan, and let me tell you: my worry drained away after the first bite of my chicken parmesan.  In fact, I looked up in amazement at the faces of everyone else.  Was this what I had been missing?  Every time people say food is "to die for," is this what they mean?!?!  I took a bite of the spaghetti and was equally floored.  Woah.  Food is good guys.  I'm so glad we went out to eat there.  For many reasons: I'll never forget that night.

4. Amazing running
This year, I am healthier than I've been in four years.  That meant I was rearing to get out for a run on the island of St. John (RELATED: St. John 2014).  The roads are nothing more than a series of V's, rising and falling against the backdrop of the sea.  The trails are no different.  So I knew that I was up for a challenge.  I felt stronger than ever.  Even when I had a bad run a couple of times and even though my pace was incredibly slow due to the hills/mountains: I had a blast.  I didn't get discouraged and I kept the mind of an adventurer as I leaped over rocks and roots in the National Park.  I smiled at townspeople, who gave a bewildered look at the tourist running up the mountain at 7:30 a.m.  I gained confidence this past week and I had a blast doing it.  Last year, I was fading out.  This year, God is doing a new thing (RELATED: When I Run, I Feel His Pleasure).

5. Exploring the island
Aside from the running, I thoroughly enjoyed the ability to meaner around the resort and do whatever sounded fun.  Did I want to play frisbee golf?  Did I want to sit and read?  I found myself struggling to be still and not give in to old habits of over-exercise, but I was able to keep up with the good habits I've established and that made the week so enjoyable for me.  We went on a hike as a family and we visited some shops downtown.  Some of that required a lot of physical activity and some of it required long bumpy rides in the Jeep, to get to our destination.  And I was able to do it.  He enabled me to do it.

I can't thank the Lord enough for the blessing of this vacation- for the time with my family and time for relaxation.  It was awesome, and it refueled me in so many ways.  Now it's time to buckle down and get ready for my return to Butler in a few short weeks.  The trip to St. John and my last seven months at home have prepared me.  I'm not done with this recovery process, but I'm going full speed ahead.  I'm learning and growing in every way I can, soaking up this precious time with my family and friends at home, because- like our family vacation- it'll be gone in the blink of an eye.

And please: hang around the blog as I'm planning to publish posts on my favorite running spots, snorkeling spots and hiking trails on St. John USVI.  Until then: Be blessed :)

Love,
Hannah

Reaching Out, Remembering Who I Am

It's been a while since I've ventured into the blogosphere.  I've been pretty busy with running, work and nannying (RELATED: Adventures in Babysitting).  Yet, it's been more of an emotional hiatus, in all honesty.  I have been lacking.  Lacking in words to say and thoughts to pour out.  It's not that they aren't there, but rather: The swirling mass in my head has been too daunting to crack into.

It's been weeks of self-pity and anger, followed my success and elation.  It's been good runs and bad runs, great body image and days I've wanted to hide in my closet.  It's been filled with feelings of great loneliness and feelings of camaraderie and connection.  A lot of that is due to the fact that I'm a screwy twenty-year-old who is pretty unsure of her way in this world.  No, I'm not unsure of who I am in Christ and what that means in my life.  But I am pretty diffident when it comes to "being Hannah."

As many of you know, I've spent five years in an eating disorder.  In the midst of all the restriction and isolation, I missed high school.  Schoolwork, relationships and socializing all took a backseat to anorexia.  And I let the monster hide in the closet, covering it up with a bubbly personality and militaristic drive.  I ignored the invitations until they stopped coming, and then it was just me and the eating disorder.  And God.

I've since realized that as much as I tried to distant myself, the Lord has always been right by my side.  Just like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, He was right there when I felt like all my friends had disappeared.  He was right there when I went from a state ranked runner to a washout my senior year.  (RELATED: It is well with my soul) All along, He knew why and He knew me.  And just like He was with me then, He is with me now.  Now, as I try to reestablish friendships; as I, like a fish flopping on the deck, get a glimpse of my world and try to make sense of it.  Unlike the metaphorical fish though, this is where I belong. As much as I feel like an outsider and foreigner in the young-adult world of friends and professionalism and dating, I am created to have connection.  It's easy to forget that, to return to my hiding place and not to the scary world that I'm suddenly apart of again.  But then I remember.

I remember that Christ has created me to be with others, and I- just like you- am fearfully and wonderfully made.

I remember that I am a work in progress, and greatly improved than I was last year.

I remember that anorexia used to be my only friend, but now that door has opened wide and I'm still new to this "social" thing.

I remember that it's ok to be awkward- to trip on my feet, talk too much and to say things I think are funny but are met with a silent stare.

Yep.  That's me.  I have a passion for running (but it's no longer my idol), I love to travel, I have a knack for crossword puzzles and a constant thirst for tea.  I've never seen Harry Potter and I love HGTV.  I'd rather hike a mountain than go shopping and I don't think I'm particularly coordinated- which doesn't go well with the whole "mountain hiking" thing.  And above all: I'm crazy about God.

But it's scary to let the world see me, especially when it seems like everyone else has their life-routine pretty solidified. I mean, how I can't just take a course:  "How to be likable and make friends."  Such is my dilemma.

So as I flop along,  coming to terms with how Hannah fits into society, I also remember that I can be confident in who I am.  I don't have to be afraid of rejection, and I really don't have to "fit in" to society in the first place.  Frankly, I'd rather  flip society on it's head than try and hide away in the masses; a social light rather than a socialite (I like puns too).  (RELATED: Tear Down the Walls)

That being said: Can you all just like me? Yep.  That's what my mind immediately goes to, because I want to be liked and I sure don't want to put myself out there just to be rejected.  Here's the thing though: I'm tired of rejecting myself before I give the world a chance to let me in.  I'm finally taking the leap and it's worth it.  Hanging out with friends reminds me how cool it is to let the world in, and so does getting letters and texts and even requests to pray for others.  It's a reminder, a reminder that I'm a human amongst humans and I belong- as awkward as I am.

I pray that this purging of thoughts and emotions is of some encouragement to you.  I hope it reminds you that you too, have something incredible to offer and that your worries aren't worth the wasted time.  I pray that each of us can recognize God in this moment, before we get to our Emmaus- a fleeting and trivial goal or destination.  Remember, my friend, that you are dearly loved.  And for goodness sakes, the next time the "new kid" makes an attempt to say hello, remember that we're all flawed- and fragile- humans.  Let's not waste anymore of our already-precious time.  (RELATED: My Recovery Bucket List)

Love,
Hannah

Why Strong is NOT the New Skinny

As a female, it is impossible to escape the constant pressure to conform to societal standard.  I mean, unless I'm gonna hibernate under a rock Patrick Star style, I'm going to hear all about the clothes I "should" wear and the body I "should" have. Frankly, it's exhausting!

It has been really neat though, to see the female spirit of determination come out of that.  Women are standing up for themselves and we are seeing female CEOs and movements on social media to reinforce healthy, real women.  I stumbled across an account last week on Instagram called @womenirl, meaning: Women in Real Life.  I love it.  I love the way it encourages us to be ourselves- messy hair, thick thighs and blemished faces included.  But I've also seen a movement go viral that I'm not so supportive of, one that I didn't mind at first but has increasingly bothered me as I see it online day after day.

You may be familiar with it: "Strong is the new skinny."  Uh huh... seems innocent enough, right?  But take a closer look at what this popular phrase- and hashtag- is really saying.  See, the word "skinny" has the connotation of an unattainable ideal, a lofty goal at the least.  It accompanies pictures of emaciated women or those who live life at the gym with their rigorous three hour workouts and hyper-specific calorie regimes. (RELATED:  Let's Talk About Eating Disorders)

Now tell me: Why in the world do we want THAT associated with the word "strong?"  Strong is NOT the new skinny because "strong" is an inner quality.  It might be exemplified in muscular quads or strong arms sometimes, but it is also exemplified in perseverance through tough times and in work-filled days.  It stems from a heart attitude that says: "I will not give up and I will not give in."

Determination.  That demeanor crosses over into all areas of a woman's life.  Yet it's common to see "strong is the new skinny" at the bottom of workout photos and healthy food.  Goodness knows we can do a little better than just slap up a photo of the ideal body and #strongisthenewskinny.  What about the strength of working a twelve hour work day or in choosing to nourish our bodies?  What about the strength of a mother or of a dedicated student?  Those have nothing to do with "skinny," and we shouldn't associate them with that frivolous ideal.  (RELATED: The Different Types of Eating Disorders)

Strong is NOT the new skinny.  Strong is the mom who keeps up with four kids and a part-time job.  Strong is the student who studies her butt off to excel in the classroom.  Strong recovering from an eating disorder, conquering a fear, falling in love.  It's not having a six-pack and it's not looking like a barbie doll.  (RELATED: Things That Have Shaped Me).

At the risk of coming across angry, I want to stress that it is sadness, and not judgmental anger, that has motivated this post.  See, I look around at so many beautiful women and see such a threat from the enemy in their lives, a threat that says we, as women, must conform to a specific appearance and standard.  Being skinny is one of the chief demands, and an extremely unhealthy and stupid one, at that.  But replacing it with the physical goal of strength is ignoring the root of the problem.

Your value does not lie in your appearance.  Your appearance is only a dim reflection of the true "you." Your strength comes from your heart, your core and it goes far deeper than what a mirror can show.  It reaches beyond what any picture can portray or dress size can depict.  It extends past stereotypes and hashtags and pounds and muscle mass.  So, don't forget this, my beautiful friends:

 Strong is NOT the new skinny.  Oh yes, you are strong, but your body strength only scratches the surface of the inner strength that burns within you.

Love, 

Hannah