I Can Take It

Many times in the past, I have wondered if I could handle someone telling me, “Michelle, you look like you’re gaining weight. Are you okay with that? Is there something going on?” What about a similar question: “Michelle, you’re getting pretty thin. Are you okay with that? Is there something going on?” Could I handle those comments?

The answer is yes. I can. People have given me enough negative comments over the years that now I know I can deal with the pang of criticism. The pain goes away. I can withstand that. I would rather hear something—anything—that could steer me in a healthy direction; I would rather a stinging comment lodge itself in my head than have nothing tugging at me as I head down an unhealthy road. The criticism may not save me at the time it is given., but it could very likely come to mind later, when I lack clarity and am open for change.

I’m finally getting old enough that I recognize emotions when they pop up. When I feel the pain of a criticism or a deep sadness rises to the surface, they aren’t foreign, strange visitors anymore. I don’t look around, bewildered, wondering what to do with those feelings. I feel them. I recognize them. I name them.

I talk to them, and they fade away. They may bring things for me to think about. They may lead me toward some action. But the feeling fades. And I am not afraid of them anymore.

These are the lessons for today:

1. Feel your emotions and remember them. Eventually, you will have enough victories dealing with emotions that you will feel secure and not completely overwhelmed every time you feel them. (And if you feel overwhelmed, you will one day firmly know that overwhelming states pass as well and that you can find treasures inside those moments.)
2. Be lovingly honest with people. Don’t shy away from telling people your concerns if you have them. Any words of encouragement, even if something that could potentially sting must be included in the statement, are better than no words at all when someone truly is in need. But please, choose your words in love—don’t take so long in choosing that you say nothing—but choose loving language.

How I Speak

I speak through food. Yes, I express myself in MANY other ways, discovering more and more as I grow in eating disorder recovery, but I still speak through food. When I can find no other voice, I use food. I use the cooking of it, the consuming of it, the way I prepare it, the place I go to get it, the time and speed of the process, the specific foods that I select (and do not select), and much more to say the unsayable.

Right now, I am also using food to prevent myself from saying something, to prevent myself from feeling emotions I am afraid to feel. I don’t want to admit that I am anxious about one of my relationships. I don’t want to admit how much I enjoy this relationship and want it to continue. At the same time, I’m embarrassed that I can’t commit 100 percent.

I can’t seem to divorce myself completely from the eating disorder—that and all the other activities and people in my life take up a lot of space that I don’t want to give up, even for something as wonderful as what I currently have with this particular person. It would be nice to have a relationship in which I feel complete abandon—to the extent that I would abandon everything else for it. There’s exuberance and freedom in that. But I have yet to experience that.

The desire to preserve myself and my way of life is healthy. Nonetheless, the part of me that wants to go crazy and run blind, headlong into inticing activities or relationships, is whining a little more than I’m used to. I really wish I could let go this time, but I'm following a familiar pattern.

When I allow my emotions to run wild, two things seem to happen. 1) I do ridiculous things and behave in silly ways, complete with emotions that bewilder me. 2) I find myself eating more frequently, taking more care when ordering food to get EXACTLY what I want, and possibly bingeing in my trademark, methodical way. If I cannot control my emotions, then I must feel in control somewhere else. The default choice is food. When I allow myself freedom in one area, I grip the other (food) more tightly.

But it need not be! I have uncovered the pattern and gained awareness. I don’t need food to make me feel special. I can feel special in a relationship and in other activities. Food is not the only avenue to satisfaction. Realtionships do not mean I have to give up food or my means of expression. I have many ways of communicating my needs. Just because I live in relationship with others does not mean that I discard my desires for theirs. My feelings and needs are equally legitimate and deserving of respect and attention, and I can express them through multiple means, even when food is not an available option. I am a grown-up who needs not fear losing her voice or herself.

I have learned many ways to speak my truth over the years. The fears I have of drowning and enmeshing in another person are unfounded. I demonstrate discernment and self-awareness on a daily basis.

The key is to open my mouth. I have decided to start thinking aloud more often. Sure, this could result in weird looks and confusion, but in more cases, it has already led to greater understanding and connection between me and the people I’m near. If others can hear the thought process that their comments or the situation catalyzes, they can understand where my responses come from.

Often, I think aloud after the fact. I try to explain what I was feeling I behaved a certain way by describing the process that went on inside of me. As the other person hears my story, I become less of a mystery and much more accessible and welcoming toward feedback. I feel much less insane when others indicate that they have felt exactly the same way or done the same things. I’m not so alone in my craziness. I’m closer to normal than I realize.

And when I voice my inner turmoil, I need not speak through the cryptic language of food. Of course, there are times when cooking, eating, ordering, or giving food serve as appropriate expressions of love and other feelings. There is space for that in my life, no doubt. But I don’t have to use food all the time. It need not be my go-to for every issue. I can say what I feel.

It’s time to think aloud. It's time to speak with words, not food.

Get It Out!

When you need to say something, say it! If something is bottled up inside, you have to get it out. Get it out somehow, even if only by speaking to the wind. If it’s something you long to say to someone else but just can’t, you don’t have to say it to his or her face. You can write it down or have a pretend conversation right there, in your room, in your car, alone. Imagine the reaction if you want. You don’t have to, though. Just speak your peace.

Writing is exceptionally helpful for me. It helps structure my thoughts in a way that makes more sense or is less overwhelming to me. Oftentimes, I feel as though I’m having a thousand thoughts, but when I write them down, they really only amount to four or five.

The danger of my mind is its tendency to loop. Although most of my thoughts are ones I can allow to pass without action, some rise to the surface repeatedly. These are ones that demand expression. If I refuse to recognize or release those thoughts, they remain near the forefront of my consciousness where they travel merry-go-round style until I feel dizzy and confused. A couple of resentments, a brilliant idea or plan, and a few repressed feelings start seeming like an ominous cloud of too-much.

In fact, this loop effect is the basis for my belief (and the opinion of others) that I “think too much.” I do think too much, but the key to resolving this issue is that the thinking often traverses the same territory./ I’m not thinking a multitude of thoughts necessarily, just the same ones over and over, because I have not done anything with them. I experience no freedom until I write them down, sing them out, talk aloud, or confront another individual.

Too many brilliant thoughts have failed to see the light of day because people were afraid others might judge them or think they were weird for having those thoughts. Many intelligent folks are afraid of what actions they may have to take if they voice their ideas. Once something is out in the open, it could go anywhere—in theory.

I’m here to say that step one is to tell your ideas to yourself. Gauge how comfortable you are with the thought and see if you are satisfied leaving it within the confines of your own space. If you are, the insanity may be over.

However, if you still don’t feel completely liberated, it may be time to share your thoughts with another person. (Some prefer to talk to a pet first, but that’s a matter of preference.) This step always brings a new perspective and usually a calm to the situation. Other people’s opinions are often the most feared element of all. To conquer that fear usually means the world—and either ends the painful thought cycle or sparks new actions.

Sometimes, before sharing with someone else, further analysis or organization of the thought is required. I have thoughts so convoluted that I have to turn them into stories or lists. Many of my ideas evolve into songs. People often understand my thoughts much better when release them to the world in a more creative form. They get lost if I just ramble. What’s more—the process of crafting the thought’s expression usually ends the torment of the thought merry-go-round all by itself.

Nonetheless, don’t forget that some thoughts JUST NEED OUT. Sometimes, your job is to say what you feel in the moment. As I have learned to do this, I feel freer and freer. I am more myself. Yes, occasionally, unintentionally offensive things are said or I am completely misunderstood. But I rarely regret speaking my truth in an authentic way.

Like I said in a previous post, I’m learning and practicing new, more tactful ways to put things. The core of the effort is not to delay the speaking of my mind, but to improve my ability to state personal thoughts or feelings in the moment using a means of expression that most accurately conveys my true intention and idea to the listener. I want to get it out but also be understood.

Right now, my moment is here, on my own. I think I have some journaling to do… And then maybe a person to call…

When Words Are the Problem

You’d think that, as a writer, I would say, “Words are the solution!” But no. Sometimes—in fact, most of the time—they are the problem.

We have all of these words—all this language—and yet, how many of us actually manage to say what we mean? History is fraught with misunderstandings, he-said-she-said, bogus interpretations, poor phrasing, and flat-out carelessness. Think Shakespeare, think Jane Austen, think Three’s Company.

How many times has the person you’re speaking with heard things you never said? And how many times has adding more words only made a bigger mess?

We communicate via so many channels all of the time. People read body language, pauses between words, eye flickers. We can move and touch each other in ways that communicate infinitely more than twelve pages of writing ever could. Despite the infinite communicative capacity of our bodies, we find ourselves in a world centered on words.

Phones remove faces from conversation; texting goes even further. We have to convey personality with the words and symbols we choose, which often provides an inaccurate reflection of the true emotions at play. We give up very few secrets; whereas, in person, the truth is often easier to detect.

Thank goodness for video on the internet, or else the Web could completely collapse into a tangled scrapheap of words, where real people no longer exist, only language and our fitful attempts to inject tone or personality into the figures we type. The internet is a dangerous place for personal communication.

Regardless of our culture’s ever-growing reliance on virtual communication, I have a difficult enough time expressing myself in person—at least in a way that comes across as intended. Am I a linguistic lummox? I feel so rarely heard and so often like the inflictor of unintentional pain. If I waited until I could think of a perfect way to say something, I’d never say anything. So, unfortunately, what comes out of my mouth often lacks the tact and kindness I envision.

Fie you, words! You always get in the way of what I’m trying to say.

Since I thus far have proved myself unable to bring my on-the-spot speech to the level I desire, I am choosing to cultivate other methods of communication. Although I have greatly improved my ability to say what I mean, it is nowhere near where I would like it. I’ve concluded that verbal communication is something that will only improve with time, growth, and experience. By studying language for years, I’ve topped out on any kind of unnatural progress that could be made.

So if you see me dancing about, gesticulating wildly, touching more people, painting more pictures, making more collages, or using more grunts and squeals than words, you’ll know why. A picture’s worth a thousand words? Well, I’ve heard sighs that say twice as many.

Speaking Our Minds

How do we balance the expression of our authentic selves with the desire to be kind to other people? Honesty must be tempered with thoughtfulness if we are to live truly satisfying lives. Sure, I would love to run around saying anything and everything on my mind, but I also value the people around me, especially my friends.

If we err too much in one direction, we say nothing at all or fall into people pleasing. We may say things we don’t mean because we think we know what the other person wants to hear. If we can’t determine what the “appropriate” response should be, then we say nothing at all. I’d say that most people who are out of balance fall into this category. Human beings are built for community and often seek to preserve it even at personal cost.

This can be good. Sometimes, it serves no benefit to irk another person just because we have a differing opinion or we notice something that might irritate that person. But many times, valuable points of view are suppressed out of politeness or fear of rocking the boat or embarrassment. We all have to learn, at some point in our lives, that our individual voices matter. We must step out and say what we are thinking. We must risk hurting another to be honest.

We have to do these things or our personal feelings will stay bottled up inside until there is no room for any more repression. That’s when negative physical and mental conditions surface. It may take psychotherapy or another transformative experience (usually a combination) to move us into a healthier means of expression, where we assert our voices without deliberating too much on the repercussions of others. We can only sweep our side of the road. We cannot control the thoughts or feelings of others. It’s time to speak for ourselves.

However, oftentimes, after that transformative moment when we start learning new ways of expressing ourselves, the formerly repressed person can err too much in the other direction, where we can thoughtlessly speak our minds and ignore the consequences. Of course, there are people who naturally start out at this other end of spectrum, too.

At this end, we say what we feel in the midst of whatever company might be around. We believe in the value of our speech. Healthy self esteem can be at play here, but there is a point at which we can alienate or unintentionally hurt someone else. We may also spend too much time talking without reserving space to hear other perspectives.

Because the power that lies within each human being is a fascinating and exhilarating thing, especially when discovered inside oneself, people can become someone addicted to the rush of adding personal opinions to every conversation. If emerging from a repressed state, self-expression can require such a concerted effort and feel so foreign that an individual may still doubt s/he is expressing her/himself enough, even if that person is really going overboard. Because of this doubt, some cross the line into offense.

To be able to speak one’s mind, the constant worry about other people’s feelings needs to be lessened—but not eliminated. Self-expression should not be restricted simply because we fear we might offend someone. We have no way of knowing what might offend other people. But I believe that there are situations in which we can make educated guesses. The key is slowing down.

I must admit that I am quite familiar with the route from tight-lipped people pleaser to quick tongued attention seeker. I enjoy expressing myself and value my own opinion, but I have to balance this with an appreciation of other people’s expressions and a respect for their points of view. I am likely to say something shocking for mere entertainment value without considering the wounds it could cause in certain members of my audience.

I will never encourage someone to stifle their thoughts and not speak up when they feel like it. But I do advocate slowing down before responding and asking one to three questions before opening one’s mouth:
1. Will what I’m saying probably hurt someone?
2. Will I probably be hurt more by not saying this?
3. Is there a way to say this that will lessen the hurt for both me and the person (or people) this could hurt?

Notice that number one does not read, “Could what I’m saying hurt someone?” Anything could hurt anyone at anytime without us knowing it. People who tend toward quietness often overthink the likelihood that they will hurt someone else, almost always concluding that their words could hurt. Yes, they could. But the first question above asks if it would probably hurt—and that does not mean offend, but truly hurt. We can all distinguish this in most cases. Most of the time, what we say probably won’t hurt, and we can speak freely. On the other hand, we’ve all been in situations where we know that something we want to say requires a second look. That’s when we move to question two.

There are times when I will hurt more by not speaking up than the other person will hurt if I speak. If someone else needs to hear what I have to say, even if it hurts them at first, I can speak. I do not have to live knowing that I kept silent when I could have brought something important to light. Think of all the people who have written articles or made speeches that they knew would offend others (such as many vocal speakers in civil rights movements). Yes, they offended some people. But the need to say the things on their minds outweighed the hurt that may have occurred.

We can also reduce this to smaller issues. Do I really need to tell so-and-so that her lipstick color is completely inappropriate for the occasion and does not flatter her skin tone? I may take great pride in knowing the best color combinations and being at the height of fashion. So-and-so may need to know this to avoid future embarrassment. Some people wouldn’t mind having an on-the-spot consultation. But we all know people who would be crushed to know that they don’t look as beautiful as they thought. Even in seemingly casual things, we need to take the other person into account. Just because we might not care if someone told us something like that doesn’t mean that our more sensitive friends might not be crushed in that moment. We have to take into account the situation (party or private dinner, crowd or one-on-one) and the person (Do they need this information for the future, and can I even determine if they do?).

If it seems like the person would be significantly hurt by what I have to say, but I still feel a drive to say it, I can move to question three. Can I rephrase my thoughts? I don’t have to spout of the first line that comes to my head. I can mitigate the hurt. I can even see where my statement might be taken incorrectly and figure out a way to say it that will make my true meaning more apparent.

Personally, my first inclination is often to say the most shocking, bluntest thing. Being frank often garners the most attention, and that’s what I want if I feel that what I have to say is important.

However, there are times to smooth the edges. If I am honest with myself, I can often see that the bluntest way of saying something could be misread a million different ways. If I can simply be clearer, I can avoid hurting those I care about…and even those I don’t.

As my mom likes to say, “There’s a fine line between being honest and being a bitch.”

Anyway, not everyone needs this advice. Many people are completely capable of balancing their own need for expression with the needs of others. For some of us, though, we need some coaching before we can naturally feel out situations. I know that with email especially, sentences can be combed over a dozen times and the virtue of hitting the send button can be contemplated ad nauseam. Sometimes, words can be sent as-is, without another thought. Other times, those words may need some reworking. And in many instances, the send button can be avoided altogether.

Good luck in your eternal pursuit of balance. I’m working on mine for sure!

Safe Love

Where does love meet self-preservation? When does a relationship become too much for me? How do I balance my desire to help another with my own needs?

Some call it loving with limits. But for a romantic like me, who prefers a limitless view of love, it’s easier for me to call it loving safely.

Thinking about true love as a safe love helps me to not put up too-thick barriers of self-protection. I don’t have to be in defense mode all the time, on guard against all the people that could potentially hurt me. Relationships are complicated and difficult. I’m going to get hurt occasionally. I don’t want to hang myself up on that reality and block myself off from deep connection in an attempt to ward off pain.

Instead of living a mistrustful life and avoiding any potential complications, I can enter into relationships with open eyes and make decisions based on the safety of everyone involved. If I start realizing that I don’t have the internal or external resources to deal with the issues someone else brings into my life, I need to back off and/or tell the other person that it has become too much for me. I have to be even more in touch with myself than with the other person.

When I think about my relationship choices in terms of safety, backing off, breaking up, or having difficult conversations seem like less hurtful actions. I’m not blaming; I’m not running scared. I’m not being inconsiderate or self centered. I’m doing what’s best for everyone involved. I’m trying to love in the best way I know how, and that could take the form of limiting the amount or nature of contact I have with someone.

A relationship is never worth spiraling myself into peril. Facing fears is different than putting myself in danger, and communication is often the key to deciphering which category a particular situation falls into. I can acknowledge my fears or doubts and even discuss them with the other person most of the time before making any rash decisions. If I think that things we are doing or habits we have with each other are putting one or both of us in potential jeopardy, I can say so. I don’t have to keep my mouth shut to preserve positive feelings.

When I have engaged people I care about in these difficult kinds of conversations, one or both of the following usually occurs: 1) the relationship grows more intimate; or 2) I learn something meaningful about myself and humanity. Number two is a guaranteed result, as long as I’m paying attention. Number one is a bonus. Other relationships have to end or change in significant ways.

For today, I am listening to my friends’ problems, hearing their joys, and staying involved as much as I can. But I am also honoring my need for rest, for introspective time alone, and for safe distance from potentially harmful behavior. My goal is safety, my shield is awareness, and my sword is honesty. May I fight the honorable and loving fight.

Reach Out

Sometimes, I forget that one of the cures for any kind of troublesome thinking is simply opening up to someone else about what is happening or what is on my mind. No matter how trivial or ridiculous it seems, if I share my feelings or thoughts with someone, through ANY means—email, phone, in person, letter-writing, singing a song, crying when there are no words—the load lightens. I have to get the jumble of ideas or emotions out. And when I’m able to share details, it feels even better. Somehow, sharing really matters.

So obvious, and yet I forget that! Lies enter my head, like (and this is in no particular order):
1. It’s not that big a deal.
2. This is too huge/incomprehensible to deal with.
3. I’ve dealt with this a thousand times. Let’s just ride this one out.
4. I can handle this myself—or I SHOULD be able to handle this myself.
5. That person won’t be able to respond in a helpful or satisfying way.
6. I don’t want to bother someone else with this.
7. There’s no way to express this in an adequate or understandable way.

The key is replacing those lies with the following truths:
1. If I feel it, it matters. If this is an issue for me, it deserves attention.
2. Once I express something to someone either by speaking or writing, it becomes less of a monster. I can think through the thing and see it for what it is. If I am dealing with a long list of worries, stresses, or to-dos, looking at them written down makes the thoughts less repetitive and more contained. The mountain in my head is usually smaller than I think.
3. If I am dealing with an issue again, there is more to investigate. It still deserves attention. I will learn something new this time or more deeply cement truths I have not fully grasped.
4. I probably can handle this myself, but it will be much easier, lighter, and faster to ask for help. Simply getting a new perspective can mean the world when life gets confusing or overwhelming.
5. I have been surprised time and time again by people’s reactions. Often, the act of getting something out is all I need, regardless of the response, but by sharing, I at least present myself with the opportunity to receive a new gift. Also, if I don’t think one person can give me what I need, I probably know someone else out there who can. Reach out to that person.
6. I am never bothered when a true friend reaches out for help. I like hearing other people’s stories and want to be there for them. It deepens relationships. The person I try to contact does not have to pick up the phone or reply to my note if s/he does not feel like interacting. My friends value me and will be there however they can be. The main benefit for me is simply trying to communicate what I’m holding inside.
7. I can express this thought or emotion in any way I can. There are no rules. No method or means of expression is inferior. If I have to draw someone a picture or just dial a number and start sobbing, that is good enough. If the extent of my willingness or abilities enables me to send only a tiny email or IM that says, “I’m hurting,” that’s fine. When I can’t offer a big explanation, leave the house, or speak on the phone, there are smaller means of reaching out. If all I can do is send a letter that won’t get to the recipient for days, I can still write it. Trash the overtures and immediate reciprocity. I don’t have to have something to give in return for their time. An opportunity will rise to return the favor later. For now, let the monster loose!

I rarely have to suffer alone. Even if I can only seem to reach out to the same individual for a period of time, at least I reach out. The person might ask for some space after a while, but the process of choosing who to open up to usually follows a natural course. My perception is generally the only thing making me believe I’m “too much.”

Don’t bottle things up, my friends. Even little issues need airing, or they will fester and grow into infectious beasts. It’s amazing what a little word to a friend will do. Even if I have to start out doing nothing more than asking about the other person’s day, that form of outreach is good enough.

The main thing: Human beings are connected. We are made to share joys and sorrows. Everyone needs a chance to do what they are built to do. Reach out, regardless of how it looks!