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5 Helpful Holiday Reminders for Anyone With Body Image Issues

Whether the criticism is coming from yourself or a judgey relative, here’s how to help silence them. ByAnna Borges

As a person with a history of body image issues, I always brace for the usual suspects when looking at old holiday pictures—judgmental thoughts about my appearance, embarrassment about how I looked compared to others, and maybe even some frustration over how much my body has changed since then. But the main thing I feel? Bummed. Because…well, I’m not in that many photos at all. And despite all my past fears that Future Me would cringe at the snapshots later, it turns out my biggest regret isn’t about how I looked—it’s about the memories I missed out on making because I was so caught up in self-criticism.

I’m sure I’m not the only one whose festivities are regularly weighed down by discomfort and insecurity. “We live in a world with so much shame, and that does not stop over the holidays,” says Ally Duvall, senior program development lead at Equip and self-proclaimed fat activist. If anything, she notes, it often ramps way up—whether it’s your mom commenting on your weight, a guest saying how “bad” they’re being as they get a slice of pie, or your own inner monologue critiquing how you measure up to last year’s resolutions. And don’t even get us started on all that unhelpful “New Year, New Me” messaging. 

To help you navigate this season’s many body image traps, we asked experts to share some reminders that can ground you, push back against the noise, or simply give you permission to feel however you feel. Of course, like our bodies themselves, the exact message we need to hear will be unique to each of us. So take what resonates, leave what doesn’t, and—most importantly—remember that you (and your body) deserve kindness all year round.

1. Your appearance is not the most interesting thing about you.

The way you look might feel like the center of attention during the holidays, when family photos, social media posts, and unsolicited comments about appearances seem to be everywhere. But the truth is, what you see in the mirror says so little about who you are or the impact you have on the people around you.

“If you asked the people you love to name ten things they value about you, I can almost guarantee your body wouldn’t make the list,” Duvall says. “So why is it taking up so much space on yours? There’s so much more to who you are—you’re a complex, unique, and wonderful being.” 

When you catch yourself giving your appearance #1 billing in your mind, Duvall recommends interrupting the spiral out loud—say, by listing other things you love about yourself. But no need to whip out positive affirmations if they feel unnatural. Neutral statements—like, My body is the least interesting thing about me—work just as well, she says. 

2. You—and your body—have unique needs.

Holiday gatherings are rife with opportunities for comparison: how much others are eating, what they’re wearing, how effortlessly they seem to embody holiday cheer. “First, don’t blame yourself—a lot of comparisons happen automatically,” says Brittney Lauro, LCSW, lead therapist and clinical supervisor at Equip. 

That said, you don’t want to take comparisons at face value. For one, we rarely have enough information to draw meaningful conclusions in the first place. “At the end of the day, we’re only around people for a snapshot of their day,” Lauro explains. “We don’t know their full story, just like they don’t know ours.” For example, you might find yourself feeling self-conscious after noticing someone’s half-filled plate—but maybe they ate before coming, don’t like the food, or have their own dietary restrictions or relationship with eating that you’re not privy to.

Instead of fixating on what others are doing, remind yourself that your needs are valid and unique. “It’s wonderful that you’re eating more or differently than others because those are your needs in the moment,” Lauro says. And it’s not just about physical nourishment—enjoying “fun” foods can meet emotional needs, too, she adds, which helps you connect with the experience and savor the holiday. The same goes for stepping away from the action, choosing an outfit that feels comfortable, or sitting far away from your judgey Aunt Karen.

3. There’s no right way to respond to inappropriate comments.

Unfortunately, body image conversations don’t just live in your head—sometimes they come from those around you. From backhanded compliments to unsolicited advice, you might find yourself stuck in a conversation wondering WTF to say. The good news? There are many different ways to respond, and you can choose whatever feels right to you. “It all depends on context, like your relationship with the person, your comfort level with certain topics, and what you want to get into in that moment,” Duvall says. 

Generally, though, Lauro and Duvall both recommend having a few phrases up your sleeve—and practicing them ahead of time. These could include setting a firm boundary (“Let’s not talk about my appearance”), redirecting the conversation (“I think what you mean is you’re happy to see me—how’s work going?”), or even calling the comment out and starting a dialogue (“I’m curious why you feel the need to comment on other people’s bodies.”). Or you might prep a plan of action instead of a script…like how you’ll excuse yourself if the conversation gets too overwhelming. 

4. You don’t need to “earn” your food—or anything else you want.

The holidays are prime time for the idea that enjoyment has to come with conditions—especially when it comes to food. Whether it’s skipping meals to “save” calories, getting pressured into doing a holiday 5K before the festivities begin, or saying, “I’ll need to work this off later,” the message that you need to balance indulgence with restriction is everywhere. And it doesn’t stop at food. This mindset can creep into other areas too, like telling yourself you can only wear a special outfit, pose in pics, or participate in a tradition if you hit a certain goal.

So, in case you need to hear it, “you absolutely deserve to eat and enjoy your food—and every other part of the holiday,” says Lauro. What’s more, the rules and bargains you make with yourself can backfire. “If we’re entering the holiday with a scarcity mindset, we’re actually setting ourselves up to feel more out of control when we have access to the things we’re avoiding,” she explains. In other words, instead of freeing you to enjoy the day “without guilt,” you’ll probably wind up even more preoccupied with food or your body.

5. You can ditch old traditions that no longer serve you. 

Let’s be real: Too many holiday traditions revolve around food, family gatherings, and other elements that can feel overwhelming or stressful if you’re struggling with your body image or relationship with eating. While it’s OK to hope for a time when you feel more at ease with these traditions, it’s just as valid to acknowledge that you might not be there yet—and to be gentle with yourself in the meantime, Lauro says.

Instead of forcing yourself to participate in traditions that feel uncomfortable, Lauro and Duvall recommend giving yourself permission to create new ones that bring you peace, joy, comfort, or whatever else you need this year. You might start a holiday movie marathon, host a cozy crafting night with friends, or volunteer at a local organization to connect with your community.

Whatever you decide—or whatever the season has in store for you anyway—one last reminder: You got this. “You’ve already made it through so many hard things, and you’ll make it through the holidays too,” Duvall says.

If you think that you or a loved one might be suffering from an eating disorder, visit equip.health for more information on eating disorders and their virtual treatment.

The post 5 Helpful Holiday Reminders for Anyone With Body Image Issues appeared first on Wondermind.

Essay Link Copied 10.11.24

How Coming Out Changed My Relationship With My Body

TikTok creator and host of the Made It Out podcast Mal Glowenke explains the ripple effect of being true to herself. ByMal Glowenke

I’ve known since I was very little that I take zero interest in boys. I always married the girls during our neighborhood play pretend wedding ceremonies, and it wasn’t until I moved to Texas in the second grade that I started to feel like that was wrong.

My gayness, an affront to the heteronormative, Christian lifestyle in the sheltered Texas suburbia I grew up in, never had a fighting chance. I couldn’t even consider what I thought my sexual identity to be before survival instinct unconsciously took over. In a culture that didn’t embrace individuality, conformity became my hard wiring. 

I wondered, If who I am isn’t correct, then what is? I desperately searched outside myself to find my identity. What I discovered was the perfect storm of “traditional family values” and ’90s diet culture. It became obvious to me that the person I should become was a pretty, skinny blonde who married an average man and became a mother by 25. 

In hindsight it’s easy to see how I allowed my childhood bubble to influence my whole identity. It grabbed me by the shoulders and forced me to turn my back on the beautiful, wide open, rainbow road I was destined to be cruising down.

Unfortunately, denying my queerness led to a cascade of self-suppression and self-destruction—and my body bore the brunt of it.

Fighting my identity

As I set out to become that perfect straight woman, actively denying who I really was created endless internal conflict. That struggle, fueled by an environment focused on diet and exercise, led to what I now understand as binge eating disorder.

Around the age of 15, I was trapped in a vicious cycle with food, desperate for something to control. I’d go to the drive through, order enough to justify my last “bad” meal, and vow to count every calorie from then on. I’d restrict myself to certain foods for weeks before breaking down. That turned into another binge and the cycle would begin again. 

In an attempt to break the pattern, I turned to amphetamines and became enamored with the pills that helped me restrict. Over time, I developed a dependence that would last well into my twenties. 

In my late teens and early twenties, I leaned deeper into the promise that happiness would come after I had the perfect body, a man, and a white picket fence. While I was still obsessed with becoming smaller, I started to orient my appearance to the male gaze. Studying what turned a man on or away became my obsession. I was sure that once I looked the way straight men wanted to see me, everything would be fixed. I would never have to deal with my feelings toward women or feel unsatisfied with my life.

Of course, my preoccupation with appeasing the male gaze just encouraged more dissatisfaction with my appearance. By 23, I began taking more drastic measures, ushering in my elective surgery era. One quick google search had me booking a breast augmentation.

I arrived on the day of surgery to meet the doctor for the first time (do not do this) and chose an implant size moments before going under. I went into surgery as a B cup and woke up a DDD. The perceived ease at which this changed my body and people’s view of it had me craving more. It wasn’t long before I received liposuction on almost every major area of my body and underwent a Brazilian Butt Lift. 

I dressed my new body in tight dresses and high heels and chased man after man. I hoped they’d be the one to complete the misguided picture I’d attempted to paint for years. 

At that time, I never considered that being a lesbian was an option. Despite the fact that I kissed girls in bars, fantasized about them, and even secretly met up with other curious women from the internet to experiment with, I still bought into the promise of heteronormativity. 

Hitting my breaking point

Around the age of 25, my body began signaling a misalignment, manifesting symptoms that demanded attention no matter how long I ran from them. When I tried to ignore or silence them, they only got louder. The surgeries were catching up to me, causing numbness all over my body and complete loss of sensation in my nipples, and the pressure from my implants began to impact my breathing. 

My mental health was also in decline. My relationship to food was worse than it had ever been before. And I found myself scrolling through dating apps for countless hours, matching and chatting with men for small hits of validation. 

My dad has instilled in me that when something isn’t working, you need to make a change. The shift can be big or small, but the goal is “pattern interruption,” as he calls it. So, at 25, I decided it was time to pack up my entire life and move to Los Angeles on what most would call a whim. 

Within weeks of being in my new city, I learned that there’s something undeniably liberating about starting anew in a place where you’re a complete stranger. It felt like shedding my skin, leaving the baggage of the past behind and stepping into a world of possibility. I got the sense that this was a unique opportunity to become the person I’ve always wanted to be. 

The first thing I did upon settling in LA was add women as an option to my dating apps. I hoped to find another secret hookup, but I wound up on a seven-hour date with a lesbian. That night, I felt more seen and understood than I had my entire life. Being around someone who identified as an out lesbian made me realize that it was a real possibility for me. It was the first time I even considered it.

This is what I now refer to as my “gay panic” moment. I was shocked to realize there was no turning back. I am gay, and I always have been. 

Even though this moment brought so much relief and excitement for the future it also brought the fear of leaving everything I had ever thought to be right behind. This was the beginning of an unraveling.   

Making amends with my body

Being able to enjoy sex with a woman openly and freely was daunting after hiding my desires for 27 years. Surrendering to something that was labeled wrong or shameful by the heteronormative, conservative, relgious community I was raised in went against my instincts. But once I gave in, that was it. 

Part of that was because sex finally made sense to me. After years of listening to women talk about it and never relating to a word, I finally understood. When I slept with a woman, I felt real pleasure for the first time. It was uninhibited and guilt-free pleasure. 

That experience opened me up to a world of possibility. What else had I been denying myself based on other people’s expectations and religious standards I never agreed with? 

Coming out and living authentically gave me a deeper understanding of just how much I’d done to my body out of obligation and validation seeking. I was so caught up in pleasing others and attempting to meet their criteria, I never felt the agency to say no to them or yes to myself. Instead of giving my body what it wanted or needed, I chased an idealized, hetero version of me that made everyone else happy. 

That self-sacrifice made it easy for my disordered eating to take over. It also made impulsively altering my body with surgical procedures a no-brainer. Conformity trumped authenticity at every turn. 

But, ultimately, embracing my sexuality was the catalyst to radically accepting every part of myself. It quieted the noise telling me to change, making it easier to hear my own desires. That gave me the clarity to finally address my disordered eating and find internal sources of self-worth.

I started by mourning how I’d treated my body up to this point. I sat with my anger, sorrow, and regret and gained a deeper understanding of what parts of myself were truly important to me. Turns out, being pretty, blonde, and skinny weren’t actually at the top of my list. 

Letting go of those standards helped loosen my need for control over what I ate. Before I came out, I thought having the perfect body (and a man and suburban Texas life) would lead to happiness. But when I let that idea go, my mindset shifted. I didn’t feel compelled to punish my body in the pursuit of an ideal I no longer subscribed to. While it wasn’t an instant fix for my disordered eating, it kicked off a healing process that eventually led me to talk to my therapist about my relationship with food and my body.

I also underwent explant surgery two years after coming out. It became obvious that the alterations I made to my body were the last piece of my straight identity I needed to shed to fully move on. Afterward, a literal and figurative weight was lifted off of my chest. 

Coming out has been the single most profound thing I have ever experienced. It has helped me restore my relationship to myself, teaching me to rely on my inner knowing and forgive my missteps. Overall, being true to myself has forced me out of deep neglect and disconnection into a life centered on self-love. 

But queer people aren’t the only ones who can come back home to themselves. I encourage anyone to think about what aspects of yourself you’ve been denying or neglecting. When you’re ready, lean into the parts you’ve been trying to hide from. Own them, embrace them in broad daylight, shout them from the rooftops. Find your own rainbow road and take the next exit onto it.

The post How Coming Out Changed My Relationship With My Body appeared first on Wondermind.

Essay Link Copied 06.14.24

I’m a Personal Trainer With Millions of Followers and No One Knew I Was Struggling With Disordered Eating

Not even me. ByKelsey Wells

The first thing I became self-conscious of was cellulite. The fact that I hardly had any didn’t matter. That’s the thing about body image or disordered eating struggles—it often has very little to do with what you look like and everything to do with the amount of mental space it takes up. 

That was how my body-related negative self-talk started, but intrusive thoughts about food and my body followed me for most of my adult life. From my college dorm days to my career as a fitness content creator and trainer, scrutinizing my appearance became my default. While the severity ebbed and flowed, the disordered ideas and habits often came back.

After speaking to a therapist and doing my own research, I’ve learned that I was struggling with various forms of disordered eating since freshman year of college. At times, that merged into an actual eating disorder as distorted ideas about my body and food consumed most of my waking thoughts. 

Whether you’re dealing with the same thing or know someone who is, hearing from others who’ve been there might help you feel more hopeful or less alone. With that in mind, here are some of the surprising truths I discovered along this journey and what they taught me about mental health, healing, and my relationship to my body. 

Diet culture is a bitch.

We aren’t born into this life hating our bodies or feeling like we’re not enough. Self-loathing is learned. Growing up, I felt free and confident in my body. I never thought about what I put in my mouth until I overheard some girls criticizing me before a high school dance. 

After that, I became hyper-aware of what I looked like and wanted to become a smaller version of myself. But it wasn’t until college that I acted on those thoughts. Freshman year, there were a ton of changes happening in my life—positive changes like my sister getting engaged, moving out on my own, starting college, and falling madly in love for the first time—but my body couldn’t tell the difference between good and bad changes. It just felt stressed.  

That stress impacted my appetite. I felt sick when I didn’t eat and even worse when I did. After months of this, I lost a significant amount of weight and my parents asked me to see a doctor. I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. That anxiety was what caused my stomach to produce extra acid and triggered severe irritable bowel syndrome. 

When I became smaller, people started commenting, which made me feel good. So, not long after getting a prescription for medicine that made my stomach feel better, I quit taking it. That was the first time I chose disordered eating over my health. 

Commentary on how I looked seriously influenced how I thought about my body, but I can’t completely blame my bullies or friends for the things they said. They were also victims of diet culture and a societal norm that made it OK to judge my body—and their own. We were all under the same influence of restriction. We thought it was normal to hate the way we looked and to be preoccupied with trying to change it.

At that point, I didn’t know these thoughts and obsessions with my body were symptoms of actual mental health issues—conditions that I didn’t realize I was likely dealing with until more than a decade later. They were also exacerbated by a culture that makes money when we hate ourselves. If I truly understood that, maybe I wouldn’t have gone so far down this path—or started down it in the first place. 

A need for control fueled my disordered eating.

While diet culture and bullying triggered me to fixate on my size, my disordered behaviors were also propelled by feeling out of control. 

As a kid, I experienced various forms of scrupulosity, or what the American Psychological Association describes as, “an obsession with moral or religious issues (e.g., a preoccupation that one may commit a sin and go to hell) that results in compulsive moral or religious observance and that is highly distressing.” It’s also associated with obsessive-compulsive personality disorder and obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), both of which can involve perfectionism. I was never diagnosed with OCD or scrupulosity as a kid, probably because in my Mormon church I was counseled that my struggles stemmed from Satan attempting to influence my mind. To fight back, I was encouraged to stay righteous and memorize more scriptures. 

My intense fears and rigid habits affected me to various degrees throughout my adolescence. But after graduating high school, I met my then-boyfriend (now husband) Ryan, and my mental health flourished. Unfortunately, when he left to serve a two-year mission in Mexico on behalf of the Mormon church, the stress and loneliness triggered those symptoms I hadn’t dealt with in years. 

This time, my scrupulosity reached a new high and intersected with my disordered eating. In addition to engaging in intense daily rituals and constant praying like I did when I was little, I tried to prove my worthiness to God by controlling what I ate. I believed that using discipline to control my eating kept Ryan safe and secured our eternal salvation. 

While that might sound like a super specific trigger for disordered eating, researchers agree that a need for control is one of many factors that can contribute to eating disorders.

Disordered eating thrives in isolation. 

As my scrupulosity ramped up and I attempted to control it with prayer and religious perfectionism, I became extremely isolated. Though I was living in a tiny space with six roommates, I never felt or spent more time alone than the two years Ryan was gone.

I spent the majority of my days afraid of evil or consumed by thoughts of becoming smaller. It was like living with a weight on my chest that threatened to bury me. I never reached out for mental health help because I genuinely didn’t think I needed it. If I was super depressed for days or had a panic attack, I turned to the church and asked for a blessing.

Meanwhile, my roommates put “motivational” quotes on the fridge and in the cabinets, using diet culture rhetoric to justify restrictive diets. So no one really seemed to notice that I was channeling my obsessive energy into dieting. And I didn’t reach out to my roommates, friends, or family for support either. Instead, I smiled. I served the church obsessively. 

Thankfully, when Ryan got back from his mission, my mission to please God felt complete. I didn’t feel the need for extreme restriction anymore. Six weeks after he came home, we were married in the temple. We spent so much time together. I felt supported, seen, and safe for the first time in years. 

Out of isolation (and away from people who saw my behavior as normal), my disordered eating and scrupulosity symptoms started to subside. I still compared my looks to others, used exercise to punish my body, and sometimes skipped meals when Ryan wasn’t around, but the rituals of perfectionism didn’t consume me like they used to.

Healing isn’t linear.

The three and a half years after I got married were the healthiest of my adult life up to that point, but when I got pregnant unexpectedly things changed. I was terrified of gaining weight, so I ate as healthy as possible for a few weeks before realizing it wasn’t sustainable. Gaining weight was inevitable, so I set it aside as a problem for future me. Still, I felt a lot of shame around eating in a way most people would call normal.

After having my son, I was so distracted by my perceived flaws that I missed the miracle of growing life in my body. I remember catching a glance of myself naked in the mirror and seeing my greatest fear; I couldn’t recognize myself. Bonus: I was slipping into severe postpartum anxiety, bringing me to a new mental low.

At my six-week postpartum checkup, I filled out a mental health questionnaire. I tried to answer the questions in a way that made it seem like I was doing great, but my doctor caught on. I started sobbing and she recommended I find a therapist or psychiatrist or both to help, but I refused. I was still a devout Mormon and thought I should be able to pray my symptoms away. I asked for other options and my doctor suggested I try exercising to ease the anxiety. If that didn’t work by my next appointment, we’d have to try something else. 

That was the very first time I started exercising in an effort to help myself heal instead of out of hate for my body. I started by simply pushing my son around the block in his stroller each day. I was surprised how quickly I started to feel better. My days felt manageable.

The next time I met with my doctor, she said she recognized a positive change in me, and that motivated me to keep going. 

Exercise alone isn’t enough. 

Eventually those mental health walks turned into strength training, and I started working toward physical accomplishments that had nothing to do with what I looked like. I wanted to heal my physical body and I wanted to be strong. I noticed my anxiety continued to subside and the negative thoughts about my body became less intense. Yes, I was losing weight too, and, yes, exercise can be part of disordered eating or eating disorders. But during this part of my life, physical transformation and mental transformation happened in parallel.

To be fair, I can’t say whether I would have felt the same if my body never changed postpartum. There’s no way for me to know that. What I do know is that I was way smaller in college and never had the confidence or sense of self-love that I did just months after giving birth. This was the first time I understood that the motive for movement matters the most.

But that’s not to say that exercise magically healed my disordered eating. I was doing the mental and emotional work too. After I started moving my body for the sake of my mental health, I realized I deserved to speak to and view myself kindly. I began by spending time just looking at myself naked in the mirror while repeating positive affirmations. 

I also fought back against negative self-talk. Ryan wanted to support me on my journey and suggested that if I said something negative about myself, I could follow it up with three positive things. I was hesitant but agreed and was amazed by how much it helped. The more it worked, the more I wanted to keep it up. I was slowly building my mental health toolkit.

Right after my son turned 1, I discovered the Mormon church was not what I thought it was, and I suffered an extreme loss of identity. This remains the most excruciating and informative period of my life. 

While I was struggling deeply, the small habits I’d implemented in the last year became my saving grace. Exercising for empowerment and positive self-talk felt like a tether back to myself.

Also, I claimed the freedom to express my body differently in clothes that would’ve been frowned upon (to put it extremely kindly) in the Mormon community. I felt ownership over my body, unashamed, and empowered in ways I’d never felt before. 

Even though I was going through hell in other ways, my disordered eating and distorted body image were healthier than ever.

You really never know what someone else is going through. 

During my faith transition, I started a fitness Instagram account. I was desperate to find a safe space to show up as myself and connect with like-minded women who wouldn’t judge me based on my religious background.

I was more vulnerable and open than I ever thought I would be. I talked about exercising for empowerment and how it changed my life for the better. I wanted to be the voice that I didn’t have postpartum. It became a creative outlet where I could be my authentic self. 

Soon after, I became a certified personal trainer. Over the next few years, the account grew to hundreds of thousands and then millions of followers and—along the way—I signed with Sweat to bring my fitness programs to life on the Sweat app. I felt amazing and wanted to help people see that working out can be great for our mental health. 

But once I became a fitness professional and my platforms continued to grow, I started putting too much pressure on myself. The disordered thoughts started creeping in: Who the fuck was I to be a trainer with such a large platform if I’m not in peak shape? If I don’t look exceptionally fit, women won’t trust me and the industry won’t respect me. 

It didn’t help that control had always been one of my biggest coping mechanisms, and I was under a lot of pressure. I had this big new career and I didn’t want to let anyone down. I didn’t see it at the time, but in hindsight some of the very tools that I used to fortify my physical and mental health (like eating healthy and exercising regularly) I began taking to an extreme.

Self-awareness and self-acceptance were the missing pieces.

When I got really sick with Covid in October of 2020, I had an epiphany. I came across a picture of myself from a big photo shoot in 2018, and memories flooded my mind. The version of me in that photo was so hard on herself and did not see herself clearly. I realized my extreme discipline had morphed into a new form of disordered eating.

Lying in bed with my phone, I broke down. I was overcome with sadness. My platform was built on self-love and using exercise for empowerment—in that moment I felt like a hypocrite.

With this new awareness, I was able to accept that I was struggling again. That enabled me to consciously bring my mental and emotional health back to the forefront. 

I refocused on the positive habits I learned postpartum, like meditating, gratitude journaling, writing poetry, and (most importantly) exercising with positive intent. I leaned on my husband instead of isolating. My mental health toolkit also grew to include talking to a coach, learning breathwork techniques, and energy healing.

There are still days I wake up picking myself apart, but those are the exception instead of the norm. Rather than focusing on how I look and how often I exercise, I now pour my discipline into living a present and authentic life. This mindset requires that my mental health always comes first. 

For a long time I felt shame around these parts of my story, but now I’m proud of every past version of myself. Looking back, I feel an abundance of gratitude for every part of my journey because it brought me here today. Whether you relate or your struggles look different, you always have the power to change your life for the better through self-awareness, self-acceptance, and intentional action (aka self-love).

The post I’m a Personal Trainer With Millions of Followers and No One Knew I Was Struggling With Disordered Eating appeared first on Wondermind.

Explainer Link Copied 01.22.24

What’s the Deal With Orthorexia?

It isn’t in the DSM, but it can wreck your life. BySam Brodsky

Trying to eat healthier—whatever the fuck that  means—is a thing a lot of us can probably relate to. But there’s a big difference between attempting to get more green stuff into your fridge and obsessing over things like nutrients, pesticides, ingredients with long names, or other alleged indicators that your food is or isn’t good for you. And if the latter becomes a way of life that interferes with how you function, that could be a sign of orthorexia nervosa—or orthorexia for short.

You might’ve seen people talk about orthorexia on your FYP (the TikTok tag has over 40 million views), but the term’s been around since ‘97. It definitely sounds like a type of anorexia—and some experts think it could be—but, right now, it’s not an official disorder in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5-TR). That means it’s not ~technically~ a diagnosable mental health condition. 

Still, the experts we spoke to stress that it’s very much a thing people struggle with and mental health pros recognize—it’s also worth seeking help for. Ahead, we explain what orthorexia is, what it looks like, and how to get support.

One quick thing before we dive into the details: Mental health is complex and everyone has a unique experience, so don’t go diagnosing yourself just because you read a few articles on the internet (though, we do appreciate you stopping by to learn a few things). If this resonates with you, consider it a jumping-off point in your journey to getting care. OK, let’s get into it…

What is orthorexia?

When healthy eating becomes a person’s whole life and/or negatively impacts the other stuff they’ve got going on, that behavior could fall into orthorexia territory.

Like we said, there’s no official list of orthorexia symptoms right now, and the issue can look different depending on the person. That said, orthorexia is “an obsessive concern with eating a healthy or ‘pure’ diet that is typically very restrictive,” per the American Psychological Association. 

Unlike the eating disorders you might be more familiar with, people with orthorexia symptoms aren’t necessarily trying to make their bodies smaller, says psychologist Christine Peat, PhD, a fellow in the Academy for Eating Disorders and director of the National Center of Excellence for Eating Disorders. Instead, they’re worried about how healthy their food is, she says.

While that all sounds pretty specific, it’s unclear whether orthorexia is its own eating disorder or a type of existing one, like anorexia nervosa. Most of the time, people with orthorexia are diagnosed with an eating disorder called other specified feeding and eating disorder (OSFED), says clinical psychologist Thom Dunn, PhD, a professor of psychological sciences at University of Northern Colorado who researches orthorexia. That basically means they’re showing signs of an eating disorder but don’t meet all  the criteria for any of the conditions listed in the DSM-5-TR. 

Because of its (lack of) DSM-5-TR  status, we also don’t know quite how common orthorexia is. So, even though the definition can sound a lot like your friend who’s obsessed with being a vegan (good for you, friend!), Dr. Dunn says orthorexia is relatively rare. In his experience, he’s seen less than five cases of it in a clinical setting.

What causes orthorexia is just as murky. Dr. Dunn literally called the scientific research on it “messy.” But Dr. Peat says diet culture could definitely be a factor. One study that surveyed 680 women who follow health food Instagram accounts suggested that using the app more was associated with more symptoms of orthorexia. 

How can I tell if I have orthorexia? 

With all of that gray area, it makes sense if you’re left thinking, “Um, so do I have this or not?” And while, yeah, orthorexia is not uber common, there are a few symptoms that might be worth looking into. 

The first one: You feel incredibly guilty or anxious for eating something you deem dirty or unhealthy, says Dr. Peat. People with orthorexia might convince themselves that they did a horrible thing to their bodies after munching on an Oreo even though, in reality, there’s no real damage done, she explains. 

Another thing to look out for is an all-consuming obsession with healthy eating. Dr. Peat says this could look like spending hours planning meals or Googling info about different diets and food online.  

Because of that fixation, your social life could tank, says Dr. Peat. Going out to eat with friends or attending a party can be torture when nothing on the menu fits your standards. It could even make you want to isolate yourself at home to have more control over what you eat. Any of that can cause some weirdness in your relationships, she notes. 

Orthorexia can wreck work too—you might not be able to concentrate on a performance review with your boss because you’re too busy worrying about what you ate the night before. “It’s sort of like, how do you get your work done when 75% of your mental real estate is focused on what you eat?” Dr. Peat says. 

Finally, your health could be at risk. It’s possible that cutting out certain food groups in the name of health ultimately leads to malnourishment, both experts say. 

How is orthorexia treated?

There isn’t a specific treatment for people with orthorexia, according to the National Eating Disorder Association. But, like with a lot of eating disorders, people who show signs of orthorexia would benefit from working with a team of pros, says Dr. Peat. A therapist can help you get unstuck from rigid thought patterns around food, while psychiatrists can prescribe meds for anxiety or depression that might be tagging along with orthorexia, she explains. Plus, a dietitian can help introduce a balanced diet and explain why it’s OK to eat carbs and fats and processed foods. Of course, you could also see a doctor to address any medical issues stemming from orthorexia, Dr. Peat adds. 

It’s worth noting that some people might also need to go to an inpatient facility if they’re super malnourished, but it depends on how severe their orthorexia symptoms are, says Dr. Peat. 

In the end, if you’re concerned about your relationship with food, whether you think you have orthorexia or not, it’s worth reaching out for help, notes Dr. Peat. “Being connected to care may help you get back to a place where you feel more balanced—where food is a part of your life, but maybe not the whole thing.”

The post What’s the Deal With Orthorexia? appeared first on Wondermind.

Q&A Link Copied 10.11.23

This Is Hard for Remi Bader to Say

The TikTok star opens up about the frustrating parts of healing. ByShannon Barbour

Since hitting the TikTok scene with hilarious realistic clothing hauls, Remi Bader has become a fashion and beauty industry powerhouse, designing her own collections, attending covetable runways, and going on the most FOMO-inducing press trips. Bader has also made a name for herself as a mental health advocate who doesn’t shy away from sharing the highs and lows of living in a bigger body, healing from an eating disorder, and managing anxiety. 

“I know there were a lot of people that went into treatment at the time, saying, ‘I didn’t know this was considered an eating disorder, and because of you speaking about it so openly, I put myself into treatment,’” she tells Wondermind. “Things like that make me super happy that I can help other people too.” 

But along with those meaningful connections comes the dark side of social media: trolls, endless judgment, and pressure to have all the answers. After about three tumultuous years in the spotlight, Bader is choosing herself and working to find a balance between sharing too much and nothing at all. 

Here, she sits down for a mental health check-in and reveals how she’s feeling lately, what treatment for binge-eating disorder was like, and her efforts to build a mental health support team. 

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WM: Your social media presence is so open and honest, but you do still have boundaries. How did you find a balance that works for you?

RB: I definitely have changed my mindset from when I started three years ago to now. This year, I’m able to put my mental health first. If there’s something [like] binge eating or my eating disorder that I feel won’t be beneficial for me to share or [like] I’ll get too many opinions on something, then I know that that’s better for me not to share. So I’m better at setting boundaries for myself where I think in the beginning I was like, Wow, this is amazing. I could just spill everything I’m feeling. But that sometimes can end up not the best for you mentally. 

WM: You’ve been particularly open about binge eating. What was it like telling your followers about this? 

RB: I’ve been through this whole eating disorder journey the exact same time that I started on social media, so it’s kind of gone hand in hand. I definitely shared more about it in the beginning when I didn’t know what to do. When I decided to get help and go into a treatment center where I was there for a month, three days a week, three hours a night with no phone, and doing this in person with a group, that made me realize more that I don’t need to share every single moment and every single thing I learn or figure out about myself with the world. But then sometimes [I] feel like I want to if something exciting happens or I realize something or I want to help other people, I want to take that [and] share that on social media.

So it’s been interesting navigating an eating disorder while having a big following. But I do think it’s great that I’m able to decide beforehand—especially because I don’t have it all figured out yet—that I’m not ready to share certain things. 

I thought I was going to go into the treatment center and have all of my answers within a month and be able to go online and then share that with everyone. And then when I went quiet and was done with the treatment, everyone’s like, “Where are your answers? Where’s everything you said you were going to share?” I just stayed really quiet because I was like, “Listen guys, I’m so sorry, but I don’t have the answers for you. I’m feeling like I failed you all, and I don’t want to feel that pressure on myself. I’m just going to wait until I feel like I can share.”

WM: How would you describe your progress today?

RB: Every day is different. I posted a food shopping haul where I was so excited, saying, “Now I feel like I’m able to eat all of these foods I didn’t feel like I could before.” But then I ended up bingeing a week later. It’s such a journey, and I don’t have all the answers. Right now, I’m in the mindset of: OK, sometimes I want to binge. Then my mindset goes to the next day: I want to be super, super healthy. I actually did that this week. I think the good part is I’m able to realize that sooner because [before] I was like, Great. Starting over Monday. The second I had that mindset, I felt restricted again and wanted to binge. So I’m like, No, I can’t do that again. 

I’m in a current mindset of a little bit of frustration of wanting to do both. I want to heal my eating disorder, but for my health and for a little bit of the physical pain I’m in, I want to lose some weight. I think that’s hard for me to say, especially with not wanting to let people down. But deep, deep down, that is how I’m feeling right now. Why can’t I do both? I’m still trying to navigate that.

WM: When you reflect on your mental health journey, what’s something you’re proud of overcoming or learning? 

RB: I was so anti doing the things I needed to do to really help myself. At a point, my anxiety was so bad when I started on social media, and then a year later, it kind of flared up again. I was very [anti-treatment] because I gained a lot of weight at the time I went on different anxiety medications. I was like, I’m not doing that again. 

And then I just think there was a switch in my mind where I was like, I want to help myself first, and I want to put my mental health first. I think [that] was really a year after I blew up on social media. That’s when I was able to go to the right doctors and therapists, go back on medication, and find something that truly worked for me … and feel like there’s nothing wrong with that.

There’s nothing wrong with doing things that make you feel better and that work for you, and you shouldn’t be embarrassed by that. Obviously a big thing was me going into treatment and putting my life on hold for a month to put myself first when it comes to the binge-eating disorder and spending all of my time on that. That was something that I didn’t want to do but knew I had to do. I’m definitely happy I did that. Even though I don’t have all of my answers, it still was beneficial to me.

WM: When you finished treatment, what was that transition like for you?

RB: It was interesting because I wasn’t at a residential treatment place where I was away from the world, and I also was still posting and things were going on. … I do think it was really weird from going to having that group support system in person so often to then really being on my own. 

That didn’t benefit me because you’re not really supposed to leave a treatment center, whether you’re there residentially or just going in and out, without having a full support system, like a therapist, a dietitian, and a full team around you. I didn’t do that because I went away so quickly—I had a work trip. I wanted to go right back to the treatment center [after], and they wouldn’t allow me to because once you leave, it’s a whole process to get back in. 

I’ve definitely shared this with them, but I don’t think they necessarily set me up with being able to succeed and having those people [to support me]. … I spoke to a lot of people afterward saying that’s something they need to make sure you have because a lot of people don’t know how to help themselves on their own. 

I think I got right back into work and wasn’t able to help myself. I got back into bingeing and things like that after the treatment center. But again, I think that made me later on be like, I need to seek out a therapist. I need to seek out a dietitian and these things to be able to get better, which I’m currently doing now. It doesn’t mean that everything is figured out, but it’s definitely helping.

WM: Are there any mental health stigmas or misconceptions that bug you the most?

RB: One is that eating disorders aren’t really considered mental health to some people. I actually just went to a whole thing on this at the United Nations talking about how eating disorders should be a part of World Mental Health Day and be considered mental health. I think a lot of people just don’t realize that it’s so connected. That is a big thing that I share on my platform and think is super important. 

Also just talking about medication and getting the help you need and people being afraid to do that, thinking that it might not be the right thing to do. It might be too hard for them. They don’t have the time. … You need to put yourself first and your mental health first because that’s the only way you’re going to be able to put yourself forward in the best possible way for a job or for people in your life. That was something that I’ve learned a lot in the past three years. 

WM: What else would you like to add about mental health and your story? 

RB: When it comes to mental health, there’s just so many different bits and pieces for me. I have suffered with super intense anxiety, panic attacks, a nervous tic disorder on and off my whole life, a little bit of depression, and then this binge-eating disorder. Sometimes we think we’re a problem when we have all these issues. I used to play myself like, What is wrong with me? Why is there always something wrong with me?

The more [mental health is] talked about, the more it’s normalized and we realize that everyone else around us is going through such similar things and similar thoughts. There’s nothing wrong with you. 

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.

The post This Is Hard for Remi Bader to Say appeared first on Wondermind.

Q&A Link Copied 06.30.23

Gia Kim Is Proud of Her Mental Health Progress

The ‘XO, Kitty’ star opens up about recovering from an eating disorder, navigating depression during college, and connecting with her ancestors. ByShannon Barbour

When XO, Kitty premiered in May, Gia Kim strutted her way into the hearts of Netflix subscribers as Yuri Han. As the HBIC of KISS (the Korean Independent School of Seoul), Yuri’s scheming often made her seem like the show’s villain, but there’s a lot of heart behind the character. Trust it’s one of the best shows out and perfect for any fan of the To All the Boys franchise.

Offscreen, though, Kim is much more inviting than Yuri initially was. And, if you can believe it, the talented actor had a case of imposter syndrome before the show became a hit, she tells Wondermind. Luckily, now that the show is out and receiving a ton of praise, she’s excited to dive into Season 2, which was just greenlit. “I would love to see how Yuri’s life changes now that she’s come out to her closest person, her family, and her mom. But also, she has yet to do that with her dad, and that’s a whole other thing,” she says, adding that this is just the beginning of Yuri’s journey to being her true self in public. 

When she’s not playing Yuri, Kim is into art, carpool karaoke, and taking care of her mental health. At least five minutes of her day is dedicated to mindfulness practices and setting intentions, she says, and she frequently reminds herself that she’s not on this life journey alone. “I know that wisdom, as well as trauma, has been passed down to me,” she says. “And it’s my job to break those generational ‘curses’ or trauma and not pass that on to future generations and also receive the gifts from my ancestors and take them with me and make use of them in my lifetime.”

Here, Kim opens up about her mental health journey, from working through depression and confidence obstacles to learning to accept all the complicated feelings that pop up in her mind.  

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WM: How are you doing lately? 

Gia Kim: I have been great. I have been overwhelmed in terms of physically feeling like I’m demanded in different spaces at different times, so I’m physically tired, but I am very happy and grateful. 

WM: What moments or time periods in your mental health journey stand out to you? 

GK: When I was the most depressed (but didn’t know I was depressed) was during my exchange semester back in college. I think I was seasonally depressed because I got, like, three hours of sun. I was in Denmark, and it was hard to adjust to that kind of climate. I didn’t know I was depressed until I looked back, and I was like, Whoa, I was not doing so well. [Laughs]

I also had a lot of vivid, morbid dreams around that time and really missed my family. They were in my dreams a lot, and I was not eating very well. I think everything just fed into each other … It was a vicious circle at the time. 

WM: Is there anything that you’re really proud of in your mental health journey? 

GK: I think I am proud of where I am now in terms of my mental health and how I manage my mental health on a daily basis. When we’re younger, we don’t have the lingo, we don’t really know much about it, and we haven’t educated ourselves enough on it to know how to deal with it. 

But mental health has always been such a big issue for me, and it’s been very tied to my eating disorder as well. Something I’m very proud of is that, I don’t know if I can say I fully recovered from it, but I’m definitely on that recovery journey. I’ve been on it for the last maybe two years now. Two years ago was kind of like peak eating disorder and depression—it was just going hand in hand. And I made an active choice back then to be like, I am gonna end this vicious circle and do something about it differently this time. 

So, first of all, I swore off any sort of dieting ’cause I was just a slave to all sorts of diets at the time. That also kinda made me gain weight at the beginning, but then I just started finding my own rhythm and my natural body weight once I decided I’m not gonna put myself through drastic, insane, toxic diets anymore. Since then, I think my mental health has been a lot more stable because before it was way too linked to the number on the scale and what I eat, what I look like, what size I wear, and all of this. That, I can proudly say I’ve worked through with the help of some professionals that I started following online, like dietitians and people who specifically deal with eating disorders and mental health. I am in a much better space now.

WM: Were there any specific things that helped you on that journey? 

GK: On Instagram, my Explore page used to be filled with “how to lose belly fat” [posts]. I started saying, “Not interested,” to all of those pages and fed the algorithm in a way that I wanted to work for me. … And even with pictures of very skinny girls that maybe I used to wanna look like, I would hide [those] from my feed. Even if they were my friends, honestly. I did everything I could to get rid of any sort of trigger that would make me want to put myself through something drastic again. So I started doing those things and really controlling what I expose myself to in terms of information and the toxic diet culture. Getting rid of bad habits one by one helped along the way.

WM: You’ve talked about befriending your shadows. Can you share what that looks like for you and what makes up your shadows? 

GK: I know that I have people-pleasing tendencies, and that’s something that I used to not even be aware of because “people-pleaser” wasn’t even a term when I was a kid. Since I’ve become aware of it, obviously I’ve been working towards not doing that. But it’s just qualities that I see as negative. I think I’ve always been like, “Oh, I’m not that.” Or when it would creep up inside me—something like jealousy, for instance—I would just ignore it and be like, “Oh, that’s not me.” You know? 

But then I realized I’m a human being, and I do believe in the duality of things. There’s light, there’s shadow, and I have to love both sides because I’m comprised of both of those things—not just the light qualities, as I would like to believe. 

So when these seemingly negative or darker things come up, don’t ignore it. Acknowledge it. Think about where it comes from so that maybe you don’t act upon it, but you can at least give it space and acknowledge it because it is a part of me as much as I want to acknowledge and celebrate my more positive, lighter sides. 

WM: What’s the best mental health advice that you’ve received? 

GK: This is something one of my yoga teachers said in a class, and it’s helped me every time I feel really overwhelmed. She said, “All that matters is that you are here.” The initial reaction is like, “What does that mean?” But when I think about it, it’s true. I am here in my body, and that’s really all that matters. All this bullshit that’s going on around you, that is all outside of you. And that means as long as you’re breathing, you have a choice to make. … Every time I feel overwhelmed or I’m worrying about something or I’m overthinking something, I’m like, none of that matters.

WM: Are there any mental health goals that you’re working on?

GK: I felt like my time hasn’t been my time a lot of the time [laughs]. I feel like I’m being tested to really make time for myself, for my mental health, and for mindfulness. Otherwise, I feel like I just get swept away, and then the next thing I know, my last journal entry was like a month ago. So I think even taking five minutes to do something that I know works for me, like maybe pulling an [oracle] card or journaling or listening to music and quietness. I think I’m being tested to really squeeze that into my routine as much as I can. ‘Cause otherwise, I’ll be like, “Oh, I’ll do it later.” That later never comes.

WM: What else would you like to add about the importance of mental health? 

GK: At this point in my life, nothing is more important than my mental health because nothing is worth ruining my mental health over. And I realized that through the phases where I would just fall into depression just because of a number on a scale and my body image and all of this. And it’s just like, Why am I living if I’m gonna be depressed and sad over not important things?

That’s why having women who have gone through something similar and talk about it openly gives me a lot of comfort, and [I know I’m not] alone in dealing with this. … I just hope that going forward I can continue to build that kind of community who can talk about these things openly and help each other on that journey. 

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.

The post Gia Kim Is Proud of Her Mental Health Progress appeared first on Wondermind.

Q&A Link Copied 06.09.23

Aurora James Opens Up About This Lifelong Mental Health Struggle

The Fifteen Percent Pledge founder talks body image, eating disorders, and creating something beautiful. ByShannon Barbour

If you keep up with the fashion biz, you already know the name Aurora James and the impact she’s had on businesses across America. If you don’t, it’s time to get familiar with the brains behind Brother Vellies, her fashion label that’s responsible for some of the most memorable Met Gala looks, like the headline-making “Tax The Rich” gown that Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez wore in 2021. 

James also shines as the founder of the Fifteen Percent Pledge, which pushes brands to commit to supporting Black-owned businesses and Black employees in an effort to make their companies more representative of the country we live in. “I think there’s so much magic that can happen when you give deserving people an opportunity to be great,” she tells Wondermind. 

Last month she also added “author” to her impressive resume when she published her memoir, Wildflower, which takes readers through her adolescence to infusing $10 billion into Black-owned companies with her nonprofit and becoming the first Black American female designer to take home a prestigious CFDA Award.

While it might seem like success after success, James is also incredibly candid about the hurdles in her journey, being an open book when it comes to her mental health, her stormy adolescence, and how her job impacts her mindset and body image today. Here, James talks about some of the lessons on love, confidence, and failure that she’s picked up along the way. 

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WM: How are you doing lately? 

Aurora James: To be honest with you, I’m tired, and my Oura Ring [that tracks my sleep] is confirming that I should be tired. I think it’s everything [contributing to the feeling]. I launched the Fifteen Percent Pledge nonprofit three years ago, and I’ve had my business Brother Vellies for almost 10 years, so I think it’s just a lot of work. And then I think of the level of vulnerability that I put onto the pages with this book is also a thing that is a little bit heavy for me. So I think all of those things, plus travel, is a heavy weight.

WM: You recently said you work pretty much all the time. Do you see a break in sight?  

AJ: It has to be a relay. That’s how I think of it. And sometimes it’s your time to take the baton and really carry the weight. I tell this story in my book that I fell in love with in 2020 about geese, which I didn’t really know that much about, but they fly in that V formation that we’ve all seen. And you think about maybe the last time you saw a group of geese flying overhead, and you hear the quacking. The quacking is the birds at the back of the V that are cheering on the birds at the front of the V, and they fly in that V so that the ones in the back can have a lighter load because they’re kind of on the wind of the ones in the front. Right now, I feel like I’m just going through that rotation. … In a different chapter, I’ll be able to fall further back in the V and pick up some of the wind from those that are flapping their wings further in front of me, and then it will be my turn to cheer them on.

WM: Your book dives into your upbringing and your career before founding your nonprofit, and you write a bit about your body image journey. Do you mind sharing what your relationship with your body was like when you were younger and what it’s like today?

AJ: It was so hard, I have to say. I think especially as a woman of color, and I was born in 1984, so all through the ’90s and even early 2000s, you’re just bombarded with [unrealistic] images in the fashion industry. … It’s challenging when the world tells you that you need to shrink, not just emotionally and intellectually, but also physically. 

I also think as someone who sees so much going on in the world, I struggle with climate anxiety. I struggle with racial anxiety. I struggle with all of these different types of anxiety. It’s really easy for me to use my eating disorder as a crutch to gain some kind of control. That’s a lifelong thing that you have to work on. For me, I think every few years I’ll get triggered because of whatever will happen in my own life, and I have to take it one day at a time and really think and feel through what’s going on with me that’s causing me to have these feelings and want to treat myself that way.

WM: As someone who works in the fashion industry, which often glamorizes unattainable body standards, does that ever mess with your mind? 

AJ: It’s definitely tough. I think it’s come a long way, but I struggle a lot in the book with the idea of modeling in general because you’re kind of taking one group of women and weaponizing them against another group of women in order to sell products, which is a nightmare and not a place that I want to be selling products from at all. 

There’s so much pressure [on women]. Even last year, I was with one of my best friends who’s a male designer named Brandon Maxwell, and I’m like, “What are you wearing to the event?” And he’s like, “The Tom Ford tux that I always wear.” And I was like, “That must be nice.” Women have this outside pressure to show up every day looking different, wearing a thing. You get all these emails that are like, “This is what you should wear on date night. This is what you need to wear this spring in order to be relevant at all.” Throw that all in the trash. 

But I would be lying if I say that it didn’t affect me. It somehow seeps into my subconscious sometimes too. … I never really struggled with drugs. I never even really struggled with drinking or anything like that. I think that’s the thing that I struggled with, and I think it will be a lifelong struggle.

WM: What’s something that you’re most proud of in your mental health journey?

AJ: I think when I wake up every day, I still open my eyes and feel wonder about the world and all the potential that’s there. I think I still get really energized around the possibility of positive change and growth. I think I look at broken systems and I’m like, Oh my god, what if we fix this? Imagine how great it would be. I still get joy from that. 

There’s a part in the book where I talk about making these seed bombs—seeds put in clay and dirt, and they’re round—with my mom. And when we would go on road trips, we would look for these abandoned, ugly lots, just random places, and then we would throw these seed bombs into the grass that’s there or dirt that’s there. And we would just know that a few weeks later there would be wildflowers blossoming everywhere. I think her doing that practice with me and setting that intention to make something in order to bring life to a space that people have not been caring about or being dismissive of and turning it into something really beautiful has really stuck with me. 

WM: That’s so admirable, especially when you’re doing really challenging work on a regular basis.

AJ: But also, by the way, sometimes I’m like, “Let’s just throw this one in the trash.” You know what I mean? That’s also part of the mental health journey to be like, “Oh, actually, this one? I’m not fixing this one. We’re just going to throw it out.” Because you can’t take on everything. Sometimes you got to know when to just say no—that’s just as important as saying yes. 

WM: What’s something you’ve recently let go of that has changed how you move through the world?

AJ: I’m toying with letting go of the idea of what kind of family I might want for myself. Sometimes you have to play your own devil’s advocate and challenge your own ideas about what you think you want in order to decide if you do want that or if you don’t want that, right? But you have to be willing to explore all of these ideas that you have about yourself and these ideas and images you create of the future. 

So often we create these images of the future for ourselves, and we fall so in love with these ideas of the future that we don’t even know if we really want that thing anymore. That happens so often, especially in relationships. It’s like, you can’t break up with that person because you have this idea of what you guys are going to do at the holidays and it’s going to be so fun, or you just picture all these things, but it’s like, that’s not real. You have to be happy right now. With everything that I’m trying to “work towards,” I need to make sure that that’s actually a thing that I feel like I want. More so than going towards any goal, what I actually need to do most is make sure that every day I feel good about how I’m living my life and I’m not just trying to orchestrate some future version of my life. 

The ability for all of us to make a pivot is critical. And you can’t call yourself a failure for jumping off something that’s not working. The failure is when you stay in the thing that’s not working. There was this whole thing with my mom after she left this relationship with my stepfather, which was an absolute train wreck, and I said, “Why didn’t you leave earlier?” And she was like, “Well, because I didn’t want to come back a failure.” And it’s like, “No, the failure was to stay.” You know what I mean? We really have to challenge ourselves on what it means to fail and what it means to win and be successful because oftentimes, we get stuck in these systems and structures and relationships and jobs and companies because we’re so sure of what this idea means to be successful that’s dead wrong.

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.

The post Aurora James Opens Up About This Lifelong Mental Health Struggle appeared first on Wondermind.