I feel the need to warn you that this is a page of stream-of-consciousness, unfiltered thoughts. My thoughts have been a tangled mess recently… maybe I’m not the only one. If it’s not for you, it’s not for you. And that’s okay.
Here’s what’s been swimming in my bucket (AKA my “brain hole” as my dear friend, Annya, says) as of late:
I’ve wasted a lot of hours thinking about my appearance. If you’ve been a reader of Food for Thought since the beginning, this isn’t a new one for you. What a sad way for a human with the miraculous gift of life to spend their time. Calculating our pay to make sure it’s equitable… calculating our appearance to make sure its worthy. Fighting for our rights while torturing ourselves in the name of beauty. Where’s the beauty in that? How many minutes do our male counterparts spend wondering if Botox is the best way for them to get ahead of the impending doom that is aging?
The sentiment above in #1 seems to hit home when I look back at pictures of myself just 2 years ago. I recently saw a photo of myself from the summer of 2021 and was surprised by how much more thin and toned I looked at that time. What get’s under my skin about this is not that I’m larger now, but that the relentless thought cycle about my appearance didn’t stop during that summer. So, what’s the point? It’s almost as if I have to just be at peace with my body, regardless of what I look like? Unheard of. Preposterous.
Feeling overwhelmed by the endless noise in the wellness space. Wake up earlier, drink this water, don’t buy these headphones, do track your steps, eat blueberries, try THIS recipe, try THIS recipe, try THIS recipe, change your life with THIS hack in the kitchen. Everyone’s fighting for my attention and they’re all winning. Except… I don’t think I’m winning? As a women’s health practitioner, I understand the empowerment and growth that comes from learning both the benefits and risks of certain foods, lifestyle choices, and schools of thought in the wellness space. I mean, it is quite literally my passion, expertise, and dream to help women in this exact context. But…. what’s the good in watching the reels (even the good reels that tell you to love yourself, rest, eat enough, and stay hydrated) if the camera turns to you and shows that you struggle to put your phone down and show up in your life? I want to make reels about this. Isn’t that ironic? It’s no surprise I’m getting ads on Instagram for Opal.
(quick pause from uncomfy thoughts for some humor) I space out really easily. I was recently in a restorative yoga class and this is how quickly my thoughts went from Planet Earth to Pluto: I was in supine twist position right before Shavasana and caught a glimpse of my body in the mirror. I quickly noticed that from the angle at which I saw my body in the mirror, it looked like my leg had been amputated just below my hip. I thought, “I wonder how much that missing leg would weigh?”. I then thought “What do people who are missing large limbs (i.e. a leg) do when they have to fill out those online forms and they’re asked their weight? Do they just say what they weigh, even though it’s not really accurate in the context of other folks who have all their limbs? Do they know what that leg would weigh and add on the weight to their existing body weight?" Yet another reminder that the number on the scale doesn’t paint the full picture, am I right? Don’t @ me. We all have bizarre thoughts.
Earlier this morning, I heard a nutrition client describe how she's feeling halfway through her time working 1:1 with me. She said, “I’m realizing that before, I felt like sand was just weighing me down. Like everything was just heavier. I didn’t even notice the sand was there…. and now it all feels lighter and easier, without that sand weighing me down”. I loved this so much. This is one of my favorite topics of feedback I get from my clients, because I, too, felt that way. It is so hard to explain it if you haven’t experienced it for yourself. Some women describe it as a fog, cloud, or body fatigue. Feeling the weight of sand is such an accurate description - starting slow in our teens, almost imperceptible until we wake up in our late 20’s or early 30’s and realize life feels muggy, weighed down, and cloudy. Maybe my Instagram bio should read “Helping you realize you are actually weighed down by 3 sandbags and also helping you get rid said sandbags…. but not in the sense of losing a certain amount of weight…. more like in the context of simply feeling better and more like yourself”. Beautifully written, if you ask me.
It’s not all muck, I promise.
My bucket has joy in it, too… especially when I let my body walk in the morning sun, eat sushi with friends who make me feel like myself, or watch my husband laugh at a scene in a Nora Ephron movie.
Additional thoughts (as of this morning):
Hard to care about meal prepping and nourishing my body (not to mention my entire business of helping others with this) when our kids are getting shot at school.
Hard to see “Sock and sandal season is right around the corner” in my email inbox the morning after the 130th mass shooting of 2023.
Hard to pack your kid’s lunch while wondering if your kid will come home.
Easy to love. Swift to love. Eager to love.
More to come soon.