Clandestine Confessions

A few days ago I burnt my toast.
Charred would be a more appropriate word for what it became…
My neglect of the bread a result of being too invested in my daily kitchen dance party.
“With You” by Jessica Simpson my song of choice – love was on the mind.
And then my sunny side up eggs, seemingly glued to my pan despite the butter I added, became scrambled.
I shrugged my shoulders, let out a little laugh, and said, “oh well! Life moves on!”
And then continued singing into my spatula.
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Yesterday I overcooked my favorite pizza – BBQ Chicken by California Pizza Kitchen.
My friend, who is a frozen pizza connoisseur, gave it an 8.5/10 when I bought it for him to try.
That speaks volumes to its delectability.
I was admiring the view from my balcony of the changing trees on the mountains and lost track of time.
I could smell it before I saw it.
In a joking tone while opening the over door, I said, “well this is just unfortunate.”
And then proceeded to eat it while watching one of my favorite romantic comedies – Runaway Bride – (love still on the mind apparently…)
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Earlier in the week I ran out of my typical dinner food.
Having just worked back to back 18 hour days, I had zero desire to go to the grocery store.
Knowing I had to do it all again tomorrow, all I wanted was to curl up in bed with a book and unwind.
So I scrounged up whatever I had left in my apartment to make a decently nutritious meal.
Finding a hidden bag of a small portion of pancake mix in my pantry to join my carrots and apple.
No anxiety accompanying me in the preparation or consumption.
I ate it quickly to be reunited with my pillow as soon as possible.
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Last week, upon opening my freezer, I discovered ice cream I did not remember I bought a couple weeks prior – cake batter confetti.
Mind you, when I put it in my cart, I was mid adrenaline rush after receiving an unexpected text from someone.
The next 15 minutes of my life was a blur.
I was so lost in the emotions I am surprised more random items did not end up getting purchased that day….
Euphoria has the potential to make even sardines sound tasty.
My forgetfulness evoked a huge smile…and a tear or two.
I made a mental note to remember it for tomorrow…or not.
Either route would still bring me a step farther in my healing.
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I had this idea in the beginning stages of my recovery of what it would look like to live on the other side.
And not surprisingly, it resembles so little of what I envisioned.
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Sometimes it is not about eating the food but simply forgetting it even exists in your home.
Signifying the powerlessness this food has over your life – a “novelty” item you once built your entire day around eating now nothing more than something taking up space in your freezer.
This food that consumed your mind every waking (and even sleeping) minute not even worth becoming a passing thought.
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Sometimes it is not about a meal becoming an event but just an average 30 minute time slot of your day.
Fitting it into your schedule instead of basing your schedule around it.
The flexibility to eat however you want, whenever you want without the fear of the habits or rituals that will develop from that mentality.
Knowing you can trust your mind to no longer abuse the lack of rigidity.
That it will still honor your body when it speaks its needs and respect your heart as the leader of your decisions – for it is the designer of your dream life…
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Sometimes it is not about eating perfectly but just consuming for convenience.
Not a care in the world if your food is flawed because life is far too beautiful and short to be consumed with such a pointless stressor.
Letting food just be, well…. food.
Not a dictator with dominion over your mind.
Not good or bad.
Not your moral compass.
Not the definer of your worth.
Just nourishment for your body.
Energy to live abundantly and triumphantly.
Delighting in how much mental capacity that frees up to enjoy the gift of being alive…
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There is no singular picture of healing – even though it seems only one idea of it gets most represented.
It will translate differently for each person.
And I hope that I can, in some small way, shine a light on how beautiful that is.
How glorious burnt food and mismatched meals and random eating schedules are on this journey.
How much perfection rests in the imperfection.
How our greatest transformation resides in defying the “ideal” and pursuing the “real”.
May my words offer you the opportunity to celebrate how your healing looks instead of grieving what it is not – a “not” that is based on comparing what others choose to show to uphold a certain image.
Offer yourself the privilege to have this path reflect your authenticity.
To take every step in freedom instead of obligation.
It is the only way to sustain it…
And I can promise you, it is a whole lot more fun that way…