Sometimes I just stare at old pictures of my kids and think to myself, "How did we get to this place in our lives so quickly? How did you both grow up from babies into children who are independent and kind and busy and intelligent and sassy?"
How did we get here?
That question has been on my mind with many things lately.
How did I get to this particular place in my life, living in this home, going to school full time, with friends who love me and people who really dislike me, working at a dance studio, single?
Each of those pieces of my life have their own story, their own patchwork of tiny stories that make up what brought me to that particular spot at that particular time.
And I've often wondered what would've happened if I had made different choices, said different words, reacted differently---would I still be where I am right now?
Would the same people still love me and the same people still dislike me? Would I be pursuing a degree in Counseling? Would I be a mother of two children? Would I be single?
And then I tell myself, "Well, Suzanne, hindsight is always 20/20."
For all of the mistakes I've made that have brought me here, I actually couldn't have done any differently than I did in those moments---because I didn't know better.
And now that I know better, would I change it? Would I change my divorce or my failed friendships or my eating disorder or the religion I was raised in vs. my religious beliefs now or any of the other things that have brought immense pain or confusion into my life? No. I don't think I would.
Because I was forced pushed to grow from each of those experiences.
I look back on who I was a year ago, back to the days where I thought I was going to die or maybe even that I wanted to die, and I am so glad I didn't give the people who disliked me enough power over my thoughts to control my choices.
Even the anger I experienced and the bullying I experienced---I wouldn't change it. None of it. Because although it was painful, I managed to hold my head up high and love the people who loved me a little better.
I learned what to do and what not to do. I learned who I want to be and who I don't want to be.
So as I look at my kids and how much they've grown, I think about what life was like when they were little and my bubble felt so much safer---and today? Today I'm ok with the fact that my bubble isn't as safe.
I may have to fight harder. I may have to struggle with my eating disorder every single day right now. I may have to work through anxiety when I'm trying to open up and trust someone.
But I'd rather be this girl than be wrapped up in a bubble where I'm not able to empathize or love as deeply as I've learned how to do. I'd rather be this girl who knows what she wants and who she is and why she's here.
Because although my life isn't perfect, I can tell you my response to each of those statements.
I know who I am. I know what I want. And I know why I'm here. {And maybe in another post, I'll write down my responses to those statements.}
I know it is weird to a lot of people how obsessed I seem to get with dates and anniversaries of things that have happened in my past.
I've always been this way. And the messiness of the past few years has seemed to heighten my obsession with certain dates through the year.
I believe it is because I'm sometimes still in shock that I've made it this far and survived another year.
Nine years ago, I got married. I wore the hugest, poofiest tulle dress. My hair was dark brown and medium length. It was straightened and half up---simple, just like most of my wedding details.
My colors were red, orange and yellow. Not maroon, burnt orange, and mustard---but bright red, orange and yellow. I've always loved sunshine and those colors make me very happy.
Nine years ago.
I was 19.5 years old nine years ago---exactly. I got married on my half birthday.
You guys, I was so in love. I thought my world had landed on a huge bubble that would forever protect me.
Nobody told me there could potentially be huge obstacles. Nobody told me I might be choosing to battle between fighting for my husband and my own self worth. Nobody told me about addiction---that my husband could choose to lie to me even if he acted like everything was fine the majority of the time.
And should they have?
I don't know.
It wasn't any of their faults. In fact, I think throughout the past few years, my people have learned and grown with me.
At 19, I was clueless to anything other than the fact that I was in love. I didn't care about anything else. I didn't ask deep questions. I was in love and I thought love always won in the end.
And it can. Love can win. But only if both parties agree to it and fight for it.
It doesn't work as a one way street.
And we weren't both fighting for it.
Two years ago, as I was nearing my first marriage anniversary since our divorce, I wasn't quite sure what to do. I knew I didn't want this day to be sad or negative. I wanted it to be happy.
And so we celebrated our "famiversary", my kids and I. I told them stories from our wedding and from various times throughout our marriage. I wanted them to know about the good times. And last year, we did the same thing.
This year, we were busier with dance so we were only able to squeeze in a Chik-Fil-A date today to celebrate that nine years ago, their dad and I made a decision that would bond us as a family forever, a decision that would ultimately bring them both into this world.
As I was talking with Hayley while driving today, I told her how this special day is the reason she is a part of our family. Her dad and I chose to get married and we were so excited to have a baby and without the commitment we made that day, she probably wouldn't be here in our family. And her response was, "Oh, kinda like how your first baby died and how if that didn't happen, I wouldn't be here?"
Uhh...sure? I guess I had forgotten that we'd even semi-explained miscarriage to her a year or so ago.
Although her statement caught me off guard, it reminded me that everything really does happen in the timeline it is supposed to happen. I was devastated when I miscarried but months later, when I got pregnant with Hayley, the timing was so different and better and I am so grateful she is here with me today.
I don't regret getting married at 19 or marrying my then-husband. Those choices gave me the two most precious gifts I've ever been given.
Today was a happy day and I was able to remember some happy times from the past year.
And for that, I am sincerely grateful.
It's still hard to believe that it's been nine whole years since that day but I have learned and grown so much in the past nine years and I am so thankful for everything the past nine years has taught me.
365 days ago, I was laying on the very couch I am sitting on now, yelling at God.
I know I've told this story in different ways on different occasions but it's been hard not to relive them today, to remember back to an incredibly dark time in my life and recount every detail from those days.
I've been told to move on and although nobody has the right to tell us to move on because we all grieve differently, the truth is that I have. I am a much stronger person and the after-effects of that horrible weekend last March don't wound me quite as deep as they used to. I'm able to let them fall off of me more quickly.
I can remember back to this very day and telling God, "I KNOW you can make this go away. I KNOW you have the power to erase it. I KNOW you know how deeply this hurts everyone involved. SO WHY? WHY have you not fixed it? WHY have you allowed it to happen? WHY?!"
I was so angry at God...angrier than I've ever been...and it was one of the first times I can really remember directing my anger AT Him.
And He never made me feel bad for doing so. In fact, God knew that my anger was present because I was scared. I couldn't see how life was ever going to be ok. It felt good to yell and scream and release my anger.
It's like that scripture in 1st Corinthians, chapter 10, verse 13, that I used to believe meant that God would not give us more than we can handle.
Oh my gosh, you guys, I have definitely been given more than I can handle. Divorce alone was more than I could handle on my own.
But I don't believe that's what God was really saying. I think that scripture tells us that God will not give us things beyond our capacity and then leave us. Because truthfully, we can do anything with God next to us. We can get through the very things we believe we would never be able to handle.
Jesus makes things whole for us, even when they fall apart into a million pieces.
Talking deeply about the things I've been through this past year is not easy. Because I like telling you the parts where I'm brave and don't doubt my abilities.
But I doubted myself last year.
And 364 days ago, I thought about committing suicide. I thought that my life was only ruining those around me. I thought there were people who would be better at mothering my children than I am.
I thought about giving up my own life, throwing in the towel I've fought so hard to earn over and over again.
Now that I'm here, a year later, I can tell you that beyond that darkness came a light far brighter than anything I've ever experienced. I fought harder than I've ever fought to regain my worth, my belief in myself.
I found myself growing closer to God in a way I never would've predicted. I started living for me and for my children.
I became more confident in myself and those times I doubted myself lasted fractions of what they used to last.
I have had three hundred and sixty four more days of memories because although I thought it would be better to give up, I didn't do it. I was so broken but I decided to put my trust in God.
I look back to how I felt in these very moments a year ago---despair, darkness, confusion---and I am so thankful I never gave up.
I am so thankful that I am here today and that I have a relationship with Jesus Christ. I have faith that He knows exactly what I've been through, since He suffered for me personally and was crucified by a group of people who did not understand Him.
I have never felt what He experienced but I do know what it is like to be misunderstood and hated. I know what it is like to try to explain your choices and have people ridicule you and want to hurt you.
As I sat through Good Friday service yesterday, tears streamed down my face. I didn't even think I'd cry or that it would be a super emotional day but as I listened to the story of Christ being crucified, I felt Him so close to me, reminding me that He's been there since the beginning and that He'll be there through the end.
Jesus Christ died for me. He died for you. And if we can remember that in our darkest hours, we can have hope that we can be made whole again.
I can remember being 19 years old and dating my soon-to-be-husband and thinking, "Life has been pretty messy so far---and then God gave me a perfect husband and the life I truly wanted and I won't have to struggle anymore." I would jokingly say that because my teenage years had been messy, I got through all of the "hard trials" before adulthood.
And they all just sat and laughed...
Friends, that isn't how life works. Obviously.
And I'm not quite sure why I even thought that was how it works.
Unless that was a subliminal message somewhere, no one ever taught me that you are only given a certain amount of trials and then you're free for the rest of forever.
But at 19, that is what I thought. And because of this, I assumed God had made me unbreakable for the rest of my life.
And then when I was 25, my husband left me.
And again, I found myself thinking, "Well, God will protect me from anything else bad happening, at least while I'm a single momma." And He didn't!
Life got even harder. In fact, last year life got so hard that I wished I could just get divorced again and go through that pain because at least I knew how to deal with it. Life got so hard that I contemplated taking my life. It was a huge set back for me.
I broke.
And at first, I was angry with God for allowing this. I am a single mom, full time student, working two jobs trying to figure life out.
But I've learned that God didn't do this to me. People did.
People are really crappy sometimes---even the best people can be crappy sometimes.
And because God gave us the ability to choose our actions, He isn't the reason we struggle. In fact, He is the opposite of the reason we struggle. He is the only way we can truly heal.
A few weeks ago, in Starting Point at Mission Church, the topic was trust.
When I noticed this, I wasn't sure what I was going to feel about the lesson. Trust is something I've struggled with for a long time.
When I was married, trust was often non-existent. I had a hard time with it. I didn't understand why but I would have these stomach-churning feelings when it came to trust.
I get it now. I see the bigger picture now.
And throughout the past 2.5 years, I've often struggled to trust God. I've struggled to trust His plan for me because so far, it seems kind of screwed up.
Divorced mother of two, eating disorder, anxiety disorder, etc. {so many other things I'd like to add here that I'll leave out}---my life has been pretty shaky. Many times, earthquakes have shattered the foundations I've tried so hard to build. And throughout all of it, I've struggled with trusting God.
When life isn't as shaky, I find myself walking on eggshells. trying to make sure there are no huge fall outs or ailments that come to my family. It's scary. I have anxiety attacks pretty easily.
As I was reading the chapter from that week's lesson, I came across a quote by Ernest Hemingway that says: "The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them."
I know, it seems so simple but it hit me pretty hard.
I don't necessarily like trusting before I know if a person is worthy of that trust. I can so easily build up walls around my heart that I feel are going to protect me. I have been burned so many times by trusting people who did not deserve my trust.
But the ironic thing is that even if I don't trust God, bad things can happen. And if I do trust God, bad things can happen.
And if bad things are still going to happen, I'd much rather have Him in my corner.
If we're being honest, trusting God still isn't always easy for me. I sometimes forget the things I've learned when I'm experiencing trial-tunnel-vision.
But I try to remind myself that God will always have my back---even if I blame things on Him. He never leaves because He loves me that unconditionally.
Last year in March, we marched through the Phoenix Zoo to support the National Eating Disorder Association.
It was important to me. I wanted to share this memory with my children and teach them an age appropriate amount about eating disorders and how they can affect anyone.
Anyone.
This year, I wasn't sure I wanted to speak up about NEDA week because it's been an incredibly messy year but then I remembered...I don't do this just for me. I do this for my kids and for others who may be suffering or who don't know a whole lot about eating disorders.
And so we woke up on Wednesday and put our purple on.
And throughout the day, I felt this surge of bravery for this recovery thing I've been trying to do for years.
It still wasn't an easy day. There are so many things that are different than this same time last year. There has been a lot of behind-the-scenes trauma.
But I'm just as worthy as the rest of the people in this world. I am brave enough to speak up and find JOY amidst really hard things.
So because of that, we still acknowledged NEDA week...
...some of us a little bit more permanently than others. {I'm seriously obsessed with my purple hair...THANK YOU, Jenny Brown!}
Eating disorder awareness is important.
My body image is something I've struggled with my entire life, even as a young child. I often wish I could go back in time and give that beautiful little Suzanne a hug and tell her how worthy she is.
Although this year has been really messy, I feel like this week, today, this very second, I am so much closer to healing and recovery than ever before.
I used to think that being skinny was the only thing that could make me happy. I thought that once I was 'x' amount of weight, I'd be good enough and worthy enough to date and possibly get remarried. Sometimes, I still believe those things.
But they are lies. And lately, I've been working hard to think positively about myself when I look in the mirror.
My children will notice. And because I love them so dearly and want them to love themselves, I'm fighting for myself.
No matter what storms try to rage, I will still be fighting.
February 18th, 2014, I became officially single after 7 years of not being single.
I haven't really told my story of divorce on this blog because this blog is still pretty new and I don't talk about divorce as often as I used to when my divorce was fresher and more painful. Although, who am I kidding, it'll always be somewhat painful.
Because now divorce is just a part of me. It always will be. Nothing is going to change that.
And that's really ok with me.
I still get angry sometimes. I still get so damn angry about what could've been or how much this affects the kids or how much I hate the aspect of dating all over again---this time with two kids.
It's still really hard sometimes. Really hard.
But I've realized that isn't going to change. It's going to be hard sometimes. It's going to be messy and confusing and really crappy.
Divorce is crappy, you guys. The only word more useful in describing how I feel about divorce starts with an "sh" and I'm not sure my mother would appreciate reading that here.
It was two years ago that I received a big manila envelope in the mail signed by an Arizona judge and realized that my divorce was final. It had only been six months since he'd left our home and I had been blindsided.
I had been waiting for that paperwork and I was anxious for it to be signed and done with because the process had been a bit confusing and extremely painful.
And when it came, it was overwhelmingly bittersweet. I remember laying in my bed in disbelief that this had all really happened. I was pretty sure I would wake up and we'd be a happy family again.
I had nightmares for a long time. Every. Single. Night. I had extreme anxiety. Every. Single. Day.
I had fears that everyone secretly thought this was all my fault, that I wasn't good enough or worthy enough for marriage.
It was so hard for the kids. There were tears most nights and they would go weeks without being able to sleep in their own beds.
His side of the bed was quickly taken over by them. It was now theirs. Because not only did they need me, I needed them. Our healing was and is a team effort.
Two years.
It's weird because it actually feels like it's been longer than two years. I have a hard time remembering what it was like to be married and not doing all of this on my own. I have a hard time remembering so many things from my marriage but they still pop up sometimes and depending on the memory, I'm either hit with a wave of anxiety or a smile comes across my face.
On the 18th of this month, I was reminiscing back to two years ago and then three years ago, etc., and I was struggling to find a good memory of 'back then'.
I was close to tears because for some reason, I really just wanted to remember something good and not feel so hurt by the anniversary.
As I was driving and becoming more frustrated, a song came on the radio that hit me with an extremely vivid memory from a year before our divorce where we were driving to Tucson and I was singing AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS like a crazy person and all 4 of us were laughing so hard.
I could feel my lips start to curve upward and I started to laugh and sing with the radio.
When the song ended, I thanked God for sending me that memory.
Marriage was hard but it wasn't impossible.
I still strongly believe in marriage.
But as I look back on who I was then and who I am now, I am thankful for what divorce has taught me. I am thankful that I've been able to grow from this experience. And mostly, I'm thankful that God has been with me every step of the way throughout this journey.
Seven year olds shouldn't think they're fat. But I did.
Seven year olds shouldn't pray to God, begging him to make them skinny. But I did.
Seven. Years. Old.
I've always had an unhealthy relationship with food, from wanting to eat all of the time to hating to even look at food.
Somewhere around the time when I turned 14, I started to minimize my struggle with my body and would get frustrated with myself for not doing anything about it!
I cracked down. I made daily plans and rigid routines. No one could deter me from my control.
I thought it was a good control. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought this was what strength looked like.
I was finally going to be worthy, good enough, beautiful, etc.
My name is Suzanne and I have an eating disorder.
Sometimes when I say that out loud, it sounds foreign. It sounds shameful. I mean, I'm overweight so I must be overreacting, right?
When you're overweight, eating disorders are ok, right?
The truth is that this is wrong but I don't always believe this fact.
The truth is that eating disorders are dangerous no matter how much you weigh or what your BMI is.
And the real truth? The real truth is that my struggle is still completely real right now, today, this very minute.
I don't feel out of control. In fact, I feel very much in control. But there's this part of my brain, the part that is healthy, that tells me this isn't real control. It tells me I'm being deceived by my eating disorder.
A few years ago, as I was going through a divorce, I decided to stop fighting for my recovery. What was the point? I felt worthless anyway. No man was going to look at me and my body and my two children and say, "That! I want all of that!". I couldn't stand the thought of being alone forever. I literally couldn't stand it.
And so I tried to make myself more worthy. I gave in to my eating disorder. I was obsessive and secretive. I was creating a new monster, a monster that included more than just Bulimia and obsessive exercising. I had created something much worse---some regimen of eating disorder hell that I could not control.
In fact, the very thing that I thought was giving me control had completely taken my control away.
It has taken me much of the past year and a half to somewhat recover from that hell. And it has been the exact opposite of easy. In fact, it hasn't completely happened. There have been highs and lows, days where I'm strong and days where I believe everything my eating disorder tells me.
It has been extremely painful to try and recover, only to realize I'm more overweight than I've been in years. Sometimes I question what recovery really is because if it's just weight gain, I want no part of it.
Sometimes, ED feels like my biggest supporter, my number one fan. Sometimes I believe my eating disorder. Sometimes I am so ashamed of what I look like that I think about never leaving my house again. Sometimes it is completely unbearable.
My eating disorder is a living nightmare. I'm not kidding. It is an all-consuming struggle that can take over in a split second and throw me into a downward spiral of shame and despair.
This isn't something that's cute or trendy. It isn't something that I've done for attention. It isn't something I chose. The actions I chose, the disorder I did not.
Friends, I was seven the first time I realized I was fat.
Seven.
I want that to sink in for you.
It surely sinks in for me.
I have a seven year old daughter. I have a seven year old who looks to me for guidance and I'll be damned if I'm going to ignore the issue of teaching her about healthy body image.
Somehow, someway, I believe I've managed to teach her while also dealing with my personal hell but it isn't easy. It isn't easy to preach about healthy body image when there is a voice inside of my head that tells me healthy body image is a load of crap.
I know it isn't.
I know I can teach her.
But I also need to teach me.
Sometimes I feel so scared, wondering how I'm ever going to conquer this giant monster. I know I've done it before. I know I've had some really strong moments in the past year.
But if we're being truthful, and I do want to be truthful with you, right now isn't one of those strong times. It isn't.
And the best thing you can do for someone in a situation like this is love them because there is literally nothing you can do.
I have to fight this. I have to change it.
And I can. I can do it.
I've gone through so much hard stuff in the past few years---I know I can conquer anything.
But knowing that doesn't make the fight seem easier. Knowing that doesn't make the next few weeks, months, or years look super bright and hopeful.
I know there are still going to be some pretty dark days---days where I curl up in a ball and hate myself and cry because all I want is to be skinny and beautiful. I literally did all of that last night.
But the biggest thing for me, the best hope I have in beating this, is reaching out to my people. Because addiction thrives in secrecy. And my eating disorder is absolutely, positively an addiction.
And I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable for you to read---it sure as hell isn't a walk in the park for me either---but I do it, I open up about my struggle because there are people who are struggling silently. They are your friends, your family members, you.
I plan on winning my fight. Somehow. Some way.
Right now, I take it one day at a time and I fall short every single day. But I get back up and try again the next day. That's just how life works. Failure, to me, doesn't mean I throw in the towel. Failure means I'm still living and breathing and trying. Surely I can't fail if I don't try so that has to mean something.
And I'll get there. I. Will. Get. There.
A few days ago, I posted an extremely brave video on Facebook with pieces of my story in it. If you'd like to watch it, here it is. Toward the end, it shares some information on eating disorders and how you can help yourself or your loved ones.
I have so much hope for our world. I really, really do.
This month is National Eating Disorder Awareness month.
This awareness is important to me. I spend a lot of the month of February talking about it because I am passionate about helping others going through similar things as I've gone through and am going through.
So if you'd like to support me, you can wear purple and tag me in your photos on Facebook or send me the pictures throughout the month. Or please contact me to join our team as we walk through the Phoenix Zoo to support NEDA on March 6th, 2016 at SIX AM! It'll surely be worth it and everyone is welcome to join our NEDA team and walk with us. And you're even welcome to come over the weekend before for a t-shirt making party.
I fight because my children need me. I fight because I am a child of God. And I fight because I have worth.
