Having a “cool” older sister made me want to grow up quickly. When she started having sleepovers, I wanted to join in on the fun. When she started to “date” guys, I wanted a boyfriend. And when I noticed those foreign feminine products under the sink, I wanted to use them too! I have a clear memory of sneaking one of her pads into my bedroom. I wanted to “practice” wearing one. Unfortunately, for me, I had no idea its purpose, much less how to use it. I mistakingly thought the sticky part went against the skin. You can imagine how the rest of that story went…

I was what my mom called a “late bloomer“. In elementary school I was about a foot shorter than my classmates. I didn’t start wearing a training bra until 7th grade. And it took me what felt like FOREVER to get my period. My closest friends belonged to this “awesome club” and I wanted desperately to join.

I remember the day it finally happened. It was like a scene out of a movie. I was getting ready to take the stage for a band recital when, all of a sudden, I noticed a big red spot on my brand new Gap Kids dress. Thankfully, it was in the mid nineties when sweaters tied around the waist was THE thing to do. So I did. For thirty awkward minutes. I sat on stage, pretending to play the trumpet, when all I kept thinking about was how I was finally a woman! I wasn’t even that upset about the stain, I was just happy I could join in on all the fun period talk with my friends!

Fast forward three months and my excitement was fading. George (whom my friends and I “cleverly” coined our periods) was no longer a welcome visitor. In fact, it felt like he wasn’t even a visitor at all. He was more like a roommate. A shitty, messy roommate who never paid rent. A “normal” 5 day cycle? What was that? Mine were more like 10 days. Each day was heavier (and more painful) than the last. I couldn’t fight my food cravings, I was a hormonal mess and I managed to ruin a third of my clothes. I like to think I played a large part in the growth of Victoria’s Secret from 1996-1999.

I spent the better part of high school and college dealing with George. It was getting more difficult to handle the mood swings, pain, junk food binges and overall impact on my activities. I never owned white bottoms, I rarely went swimming (partly due to my lack of self confidence), and I certainly didn’t exercise. It still surprises me how much I let George dictate my life.

Fast forward five years. I discovered my love for exercise and nutrition and soon George wasn’t so “needy”. In fact, some months he just never came. When he did come, it was always for a short visit and he didn’t bring a lot of “luggage”. This made me happy. Very happy.

Fast forward a couple more years and George stopped visiting all together. It took me several months to even notice. When I realized, I thought “Good Riddance!” This is A-W-E-S-O-M-E!! I can go swimming any time I want, I don’t have to schedule vacations around him, and I can shop the house portion of White House Black Market!

After several months my husband started getting concerned. I snapped at him. He had NO idea what an asshole George had been. I was on Cloud 9 and he was not about to make it storm.

It reassured me time and time again that my gynecologist was not the least bit concerned. Since we weren’t trying to get pregnant, she said a period was not “medically necessary”. It wasn’t until I wanted to get pregnant that I realized how wrong that was.

I have mentioned it before, but after months and months and specialist after specialist, I was finally diagnosed with Hypothalamic Amenorrhea. I will explain more about it in my next post, but what I do want to note is how important a monthly period is. And it’s not just about whether or not you get one. Your monthly period is your body’s way of communicating to you. In my case, its absence was telling me that I needed to chill out on the exercise and consume more energy. In high school and college, when it was heavy and painful, it was trying to tell me to eat better and get moving.

There are many people out there who devote their life’s work to “Period Coaching”. Whether it’s to manage PMS symptoms, promote regularity or prepare for fertility, these practitioners often utilize nutrition (instead of medications) to get women feeling and functioning at their best. If you’re interested, I am including the names of a couple of these folks at the end of my post.

Additionally, if you ever find yourself feeling like something is “off” during that time, take a look at your lifestyle. Turns out George wasn’t such a bad house guest, I was just a terrible host.

XoXo

Katie

Nicole Jardim | http://www.fixyourperiod.com

Kate Callaghan | http://www.theholisticnutrionist.com

After I admitted to myself that I had a problem, I knew I needed to tell my family. I hadn’t been myself in a long time and I wanted them to know why.

I practiced what I wanted to say in my head several times and had decided on the occasion to do it. I knew they probably wouldn’t understand, but I wanted to explain it as best I could.

I was so nervous driving to go see them. Several scenarios played through my mind, most of which had me looking like a crazy person; an outsider.

When the time finally came, I let it all out. I explained how I had been dealing with it for so long and I only recently accepted it as truth. I told them how hard it had been on my body, my marriage and my friendships. And I told them how I wanted to use my struggle to help others.

When I finished I waited for jaws to drop. I waited for questions. I waited for looks of shock and disbelief. None of them came. They already knew.

I was stunned. I asked why they never said anything to me. How could they know for so long and not try to help or intervene? I finally got my dropped jaws and stunned faces. They explained that they had tried. Over and over again. I just wasn’t listening. I wasn’t ready. 

While I apparently was not as good at hiding the disorder as I had hoped, many others are. Especially if they are in the beginning stages of an unhealthy relationship with food, it may be easy to dismiss it as a “lifestyle change” or even a diet. Here a few signs that it could be much more:

1. They eat the same thing every day. There is a difference between convenience and obsession. While some people may naturally gravitate toward similar foods because of familiarity or ease of preparation, people who struggle with disordered eating eat the same foods because they’re “safe”. New foods are terrifying. “What if I like it so much I can’t stop eating? “What if my body cannot metabolize it appropriately and it ends up hanging on as fat?” My “safe food” was Cheerios. I ate it for breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks. I never went anywhere without a baggie full of them. My office at work smelled like Cheerios. My car smelled like Cheerios. People gave me Cheerios as gifts. Interestingly enough, since admitting my problem, I have not had a single Cheerio.

2. The dishwasher is full of measuring tools. At my worst, I was obsessed with counting every single calorie that went into my body. I logged samples from the grocery store and bites of my husband’s dinner. My precision relied on measuring cups, spoons and scales. I measured everything from the teaspoons of nut butter I used on my toast to the cups of spinach I ate with my salad. On any given day, you could open the dishwasher and see that the whole top portion was filled with measuring devices. Note that there is a difference between measuring for an understanding of serving sizes and portion control and measuring because you’re obsessed with calorie and nutrient counting.

3. Their bedtime rivals any 6-year-old’s. I’ve mentioned this in earlier posts, but disordered eating turned my sleeping habits upside down. I literally had no energy to stay up past 8 PM. I was SO hungry that I knew I needed to go to bed to avoid thinking about food. The earlier I went to bed, the sooner I could wake up and eat breakfast.

4. The mailbox is getting really full. At one point I was subscribed to ELEVEN different fitness/health magazines. Every other day I was getting something in the mail that was telling me to “Lose Weight in 5 Easy Steps” or eat “Proven Foods for a Flat Belly”. I strived to look like the cover models, eat like the nutritionists and train like the athletes. I was obsessed with the diet and fitness culture and worked tirelessly to fit in.

5. They are always busy. I thrive on structure and my life reflected it. I got up at the same time, ate the same thing, worked out the same way, went to work and did the same thing, came home and ate the same thing, watched the same thing on TV and went to bed at the same time. I knew what to expect and found great comfort in it. If someone invited me to dinner, or a party or a bar, I had to come up with excuses. I knew if I went, it would turn my whole schedule upside down. What would I eat? How long would I be there? What time would I go to bed? How many hours of sleep would I get? What would I talk about? It was exhausting even thinking about it, so I was always “working late”, “sick”, or had “other plans”.

You may notice that I left off “They lost a lot of weight.” While that may have been true in my case, it isn’t always. In fact, I would argue that it is more common than not for women with disordered eating to avoid radical weight changes due to bingeing or hormonal imbalances.

If you think someone you care about may be struggling with disordered/obsessive eating habits, show you care by saying something. You could even share your own personal experiences with food, weight and image. They may open up, they may not. They make get mad or defensive, but nothing will ever get better if it goes ignored.

XoXo

Katie