The stories my body wants to tell are big and small. Little “t’s” and Big “T’s.”

I don’t need to hate myself for needing to let out all the little t’s. The accumulation of them alone is enough to make me cry for that little girl who just needed love by way of a hug. I don’t need to be scared of judgement over needing to talk about every time my body felt violated. I’m allowed to and have been given the most perfect space to let that little-me spill all those tears she needed to cry in safe arms instead of alone and scared.

I think I spent most of my childhood in fear and with anxiety. I’m not going to remember every little thing. But I am allowed to say the ones I do remember. And I am allowed to let fear and anxiety and sadness and anger out even without a verbal story to back it up.

I think I have enough to back it up without a direct correlation to every upsetting feeling I have when it comes up. That’s what I’m learning this week. That’s what I’m choosing to [try to] have compassion for this week.

I spent a lot of time feeling overwhelming fear. But so many mixed messages of love in the midst of that fear. It’s no wonder I found something concrete to be afraid of (food/fat/scales/gaining weight).

Food is often still scary and I think it might be ok to even just accept that I’m feeling fearful of that and letting myself feel upset and wanting to be held or feel loved literally over that. When it comes down to it, that in and of itself is another little trauma because I spent a lot of meals being chastised or getting yelled at for having an eating disorder (though it was never addressed as such).

I’m in the middle of remembering lots of different upsetting and fear-inducing things and I’m not going to let my eating disorder berate me for feeling. Even if it’s over food. But especially for those flashbacks “that I should be over” or that “weren’t that big of a deal.” Because to little-me they were a big deal and I’m discovering that it’s a big deal to those who love me.

My eating disorder once held this purpose to help me survive. But I don’t need it anymore.

Today after a lot of coaxing I let this happen. It feels so good to show up in full-fledged eating disorder induced anxiety, overcome it, let out the real anxiety, and literally take a full deep breath to completion because co-regulation happened. I know this is beyond helpful because my body is stuck in probably infancy for caregiver co-regulation.

And I feel grateful that I get to work on filling it up, hopefully one day to where it’s supposed to be.

One thought on “Little Traumas

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