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Moment One

October 22, 2018

 

Over the next few weeks I want to share a small part of my life with you, I want to show you my experiences, my demons and become vulnerable with you. My mission is to help educate women, empower women and to make a difference on how we view our bodies. 

 

I am going to start back at the beginning, the first time I remember being called 'fat' and the moment I started spiralling into a negative relationship with food. 

 

I was only 14 years old, dancing was my passion- it made me feel so free, so vibrant and I wanted nothing more than to DANCE. I was and still am pretty short; always being the smallest in the class - front and centre with a big smile and the attitude of a performer & lastly my weight, well... you could see my rib cage (if you get the picture). 

 

At this stage, I ate healthy and I ate in moderation, my mum would always give us a balance between vegetables, meats and 'carbs' such as rice or pasta. I didn't know much about nutrition I just ate when I was hungry and whatever my mum put on the table. 

 

I had just spent the summer at 'dance camp' and with loving all the classes; I begged my mum to change high schools to a performing arts school; with hesitation she allowed for me to try out for year 8 dance.

I went to the audition and the only thing I can tell you about that day was the emotional train ride; crying all the way home. 

 

The feedback wasn't about my dancing, it wasn't even so much about my technique - the two areas they commented on was my weight and my height. These are not the exact words from the judges but this is my interpretation and the comments I have carried with me for 15 years - 'You are too fat to be a dancer'.

 

This was also the year that my parents officially separated and life become a little bit harder, I started to obsess about my weight as this was something I could control, I would not eat very much and then binge with my friends on the weekends. Still not understanding nutrition much, except that there were 'good food' and 'bad foods' or so I thought. 

 

3 years later, dancing became not only my passion but my escape from reality (a broken family and a manipulative boyfriend) dancing, became my home and my safe place.

Food on the other hand became my enemy; I gained a few kilos from emotional eating and found that once I lost control; I couldn't stop eating. 

Instead of adults asking me what was wrong, my dance teacher who I looked up to commented "you have really let yourself go". 

 

And this is where it really begins....

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