This weekend our family is going away. Friday till Sunday. It’s going to be great. I found an advertisement for an overnight family extravaganza at a camp I went to 22 years ago. There will be tons of fun stuff for the kids to do and we even get to sleep in cabins. On bunk beds. This will be fun. Right? Wait. Bunk beds? When I told Rob about it he was excited. But one of the first things out of his mouth was “will you be okay with the food choices?”.
I thought that was really nice of him to acknowledge it. But at the same time I had so many other thoughts running through my head. I’m 41 and my husband is worried about planning a family vacation because of my horrible relationship with food.
I was upset. Sad. Embarrassed. Angry. Humiliated. Exhausted.
How did things get to the point where people are so concerned about me being in “uncomfortable situations” dealing with food. From an outsiders perspective I have it all. Great family, terrific friends a new (improved) job, I’m outgoing, personable and happy. And I am all of those things. But somewhere in my life this eating disorder introduced itself to me whether I welcomed him or not and is trying to take away the happiness in my life.
I will not allow that to happen. I will not allow him to ruin a fantastic weekend with my family. He cannot take that away from me.
As big, dominating and influencing as ED is, my family is way more important so I would never let him rob me of time with them. He has done it before and he has continued to take precious moments away from me but not this time.
Being away from my comfort zone for two days is scary. It is intimidating. But it’s also empowering. It is moments like this where I am forced to live my life. And that is a good thing.