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September 11, 2014

Listen, Take It In, Repeat, Listen for More, Repeat

By Cami Applequist, a former TEP client and woman in recovery

A while back I was getting ready to leave work as a nanny for two girls, ages 5 and 3, who knew I was going to officiate my cousin’s wedding that Saturday.

“What are you going to wear to the wedding, Cami? You’ll wear a dress, right? It’s a wedding so you have to wear a dress!” Emma said.

“Cami hates dresses, you know that!” said Megan. “Right, Cami? You don’t even have a dress do you?”

She was right. I owned no dresses.

“Yes, she does! She has a dress!” Emma looked at me. “Cami, you have that really pretty shiny black dress! Remember?”

Megan and I stared at her for a moment trying to recall a time when I wore a shiny black dress.

Finally, Megan said, “OOOOOH, I know what you mean, Emma! No. That’s not a dress. That’s her swimsuit. She’s talking about your swimsuit, Cami. It is really pretty. You should wear that.”

“Yeah! Wear that. You look so so pretty in that.”

I smiled, imagining what my mother’s face would look like if I showed up to officiate my cousin’s wedding in a swimsuit. “Thanks, girls! I don’t know if I should wear my swimsuit to a wedding, but I’ll think about it.” I left with a warm heart and a new sense of what I looked like in my swimsuit.

And I did think about it. A lot.

On the way home, I recalled all of the times I walked through the YMCA or around the city pools with the kids ashamed of myself and my body, hurrying to get into the pool so I could hide in the water where no one would see me in my swimsuit. I remembered the times throughout my life I cried because I felt too fat to go swimming.

I remembered the times I heard people make comments about my body or someone else’s body at the pool – or times I commented on other people myself. I remembered the discomfort and embarrassment of shopping for a swimsuit and wishing I could just never have to wear one even though swimming was one of my favorite activities. I cried.

But the tears weren’t because I was still ashamed. I was finally at a point in my recovery where I could talk back to the shame and have fun at the pool. I was crying about the fact that our society allows people to shame each other and ourselves into hating our bodies. I was crying in grief about all of the fun I have missed out on in the past while feeling too embarrassed and deeply ashamed to take part.

And then I began to cry in happy gratitude for the two beautiful girls who helped me understand things differently.

Although I was able to ignore societal messages and fight to shame myself or other people – I had not yet come to a place where this came easily, it was a fight every time. I still had not found beauty where I had once found shame.

After having this conversation with Megan and Emma and spending time talking about it, I began to look at women at the pool in a whole new light. I saw them through the eyes of the children they had with them: the people around them who loved their souls and were not at all concerned about the bodies that came with it. The body the kids saw was safety and love and care and fun and warmth and joy and BEAUTIFUL just like my body (and I, myself) was to these girls.

I started listening for and remembering positive words people who I knew loved my soul used about my body after that, not just kids: but my mom, my sister, my boyfriend, my friends, and strangers. I heard comfort. I heard soft. I heard warm. I heard beautiful. I heard sexy. I heard fun. I heard pretty.

I have let those messages drown the old recordings I had from past encounters, the horrible things I told myself, and messages I still get daily from the media. And now my negative judgment about my body is gone, as is my judgment about the bodies of other people.

Everything is a lot more fun and a whole lot easier without all of the shame and judgment that the eating disorder placed on top of it. And by everything I mean shopping for clothes, walking down the street, dating, having intimate relationships, eating dinner, meeting new people, looking in the mirror, watching TV….. everything.

By the way, I did not wear my swimsuit when I officiated the wedding. But had I worn it, I would have felt like the most beautiful woman in the room – and no one could have convinced me otherwise, except maybe the bride.

This is part of my personal recovery story. If something I have written affects you strongly in any way, be it negatively or positively, I urge you to take that to your therapist or process it however you see fit. Not everything will work the same for all of us! But SOMETHING WILL WORK and it will be wonderful. – Cami

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