We write to remember.

Perhaps that’s why I never kept a journal, why I never wrote things down. I didn’t want to remember. Why, even now, as I sit down to write my book which has been gnawing at every gnawable part of me, I am berating myself for not remembering the details. How could I not have kept journals? How will I remember what I need to say?

Thanksgiving in the U.S. is here! As I’ve been preparing for the onslaught of family and celebration, I’ve been reflecting on what the holidays mean to me.
Especially in relation to my body and body image.

Because let’s be honest, I’ve spent basically every Thanksgiving of my life stuffed and miserable.

It’s the perfect holiday for (recovering) binge eaters like me — our behavior doesn’t seem unusual on days when it’s normalized for everyone.

What would it be like to walk the world for one day in a size twelve men’s mentality…

I had a simple, but profound experience in the swimming pool not that long ago – I floated on my back for the first time in my life.  I do know how to swim and enjoy being in the water, but for some reason I never was able to figure out how to float on my back when I learned to swim as a kid and as an adult it hasn’t really been something that has come up as an issue in my life (although it has always been something that I wanted to learn, felt a bit embarrassed about not being able to do, and also didn’t quite understand).