7/18/14My message today is short, but I feel like it's important to share- no matter what, there is hope. You are not too far gone. You are not your past mistakes. You are not a conglomeration of all that you've never done, been too scared to try. Life is scary. That is a part of living- it is natural to not feel totally comfortable when trying new things. But, let me encourage you to take the risk. Stand up and try out your big girl legs and feet, because you never know when things will all come together and you will be able to do things that you never imagined.
I came into the world, bumbling and scared. My mother had contractions from the time that she was three months pregnant with me and some doctors believe that the increased adrenaline that was secreted over these many months is the cause of my anxiety. I don’t know what I believe. I know that I’ve been anxious since I was a small child. One of my parents’ favorite stories to tell is about how I would have walked much earlier than I did- had I not been scared. All of the signs pointed to me beginning to take my first steps. I would pull up and we all thought that I would be one of those “early ones”- I’ve always wanted to be ahead of schedule. But instead of pulling myself all the way up, I would stand on my knees and walk around on those. I walked on my knees for months, never daring to pull myself all the way up, never daring to take a first step on my feet. I was scared, a scared little girl that had a fear of falling, and for months I lived on my knees. My parents bought knee covers to go over my knees so that I wouldn’t get carpet burn since our house had carpet. I’m sure that they wondered if I’d ever gather up the courage to climb to my feet- or if I’d be eighteen, graduating high school, walking across the stage to accept my diploma on my knees. Eventually I walked. I don’t remember it. I was little, but one day I made the choice to quit walking on my knees and walk on my big girl legs and feet instead. One day, not a super memorable day, but an important day nonetheless, I made the decision to walk. I gathered up my courage and pulled myself up and took the first of many many steps on my big girl legs and feet.
I’m at the same crossroads that I was at all of those years ago. I’m a scared little girl, content with walking around on my knees, because walking on my knees seems safer and nicer and more secure and I really don’t want to make the choice to walk on my big girl legs and feet because I might fall. I might trip over my feet. I might stumble. I might bump my head or hurt myself. But in order to grow up, in order to become a big girl and truly live and dance and sing, I must walk on my big girl legs and feet. I must let go of my security blanket, must let go of what seems safe and not dangerous. I must walk…on my feet. I feel like my eating disorder has served the same purpose as walking on my knees did all of those years ago. It makes me feel small and safe and secure. It’s what I know. It’s what I’m comfortable with. It’s “how I live”. But I don’t want to be eighteen years old and walking across the stage at my graduation on my knees. I don’t want to be thirty or forty or fifty years old and still clinging to this eating disorder. I want to walk on my big girl legs and feet. I want to get the courage to let this security blanket go.
But this all seems so scary. I am afraid of stumbling and falling. I am afraid of walking on my big girl legs and feet. I might fall. It seems safer to walk on my knees. I mean, it’s okay to walk on my knees. It’s not really that big of a deal. Sure it might be a little different, but nobody will really notice or care. My parents bought me knee pads, I am okay. I can just keep living this way, in my safe little bubble. All will be well, I don’t have to be courageous and strong. I can stay a scared little girl. I am afraid. I am a one year old and I am reverting to walking on my knees again. I am afraid. How do I let go? Okay, fine. I pull myself up and I stand, wobbling, on my big girl legs and feet. I teeter for a moment. I grab the edge of the couch for dear life. Nope, I’m not letting go. I stand for a moment, grasping the couch. These big girl legs and feet are kind of neat. It’s kind of cool to be a big girl. It’s kind of cool to not be stuck on my knees. I can see so much more. Maybe I can let go. Maybe tomorrow I will take a step away from the couch on my big girl legs and feet. Maybe I’m not there yet, but I will be there someday. I won’t be eighteen and walking across the stage to get my diploma on my knees. Someday, I will walk on my big girl legs and feet. Someday, I will let go of this crippling fear and I will really and truly live.
Last September, I was trapped by an eating disorder and severe depression. I didn't see how life could possibly be worth living. Life seemed to stink, everything was hopeless. It was dark and dreary and I didn't know how I could possibly make it through another five minutes, much less an hour or a day or a week or a year. And then one day? Something clicked. I don't know what it was, but I was awoken from my stupor and I saw the light. I saw how God had planned so many marvelous things for me, and that even though I had given up on myself and I didn't love myself and I didn't think that I was worth it- he hadn't given up on me, he loved me where I was at, and he thought I was worth it. It hasn't been easy- these last almost seven months have been difficult. Things have not always been easy. I've had to deal with some health consequences of my actions. I've had to deal with water retention and weight redistribution. I've had to deal with thoughts and feelings and anxieties that I had previously numbed through destructive actions. But, it has been worth it. I ended my journal entry last July, written just two days after my twenty-fourth birthday with the lines, "Someday, I will walk on my big girl legs and feet. Someday, I will let go of this crippling fear and I will really and truly live." I truly believe that I am walking on my big girl legs and feet. Do I tremble sometimes? Sure. Do I waddle or wobble during hard and trying moments? Certainly, but that is a part of learning to walk, a part of being a toddler is toddling sometimes. I can now say that someday I WILL let go of this crippling fear. I am beginning to experience the joys of really and truly living, and I never want to go back to the darkness now that I have not only seen the light- but I have experienced the light. I will leave you with some of my favorite words- an adaptation of Martin Luther King, Jr's "I Had a Dream" speech and from an old spiritual- "Free at last. Free at last. Thank God Almighty, I am free at last!"
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