Unraveling: Part 2 - The Trailer & Almond Moms

I set the scene for you in Part 1, and truthfully, it was the first time that I was face-to-face with myself. There wasn’t anything or anyone that I could hide behind. Everything that I was faced with at that job, I had to work through on my own. 

And so the unraveling continues. 

When I came home from that job in Wyoming, I moved back home to get my bearings. But it wasn’t for long. It was about six months, and I moved into a single-wide trailer at the base of one of the mountains in my hometown. The desert was in my backyard; it was me, my best friend, and my dogs; I couldn’t be happier. Except that I was playing on a slippery slope with my body image and mental health. It was easy to slip back under the mask of doing the “day-to-day” and sweep all the things I faced in Wyoming under the rug. 

At this point in my life, I was in my early twenties. My husband (then boyfriend) was coming home from the Navy and was planning on moving in a few months later, but until then, it was my friend who was living with me at the time. 

Now, depending on the age of those reading this and the kind of household you grew up in, you might understand this. But I was raised in an almond-mom household. For as long as I can remember, I grew with the constant reminder in my ear that there was “bad” food and “good” food. And those tendencies carried right over into adulthood and became especially prevalent with the friend that I was living with, who also had her own bouts of on-and-off disordered eating. I just remember that time as my mind was completely consumed with the idea of “losing a couple of pounds,” and for me, that looked like yo-yo dieting, juice cleanses, diet pills, you name it.

What’s scary to me about thinking about this time of my life is that I was completely numb to life. I truly was going through the motions and was living outside of my body. This was also the year that I started my first business. Which, in hindsight, may have saved my life. 

Starting my business gave me purpose. It gave me a reason to get out of bed and actually work towards something instead of going through the motions. Eventually, my husband moved in, and we lived in that trailer for about another year before moving into the house that my husband grew up in. 

The Mesa House

It was a great move for us and finally gave us something to start putting down real roots and work into something that we could call our own. We were about six months into living there, and COVID hit. By this time, my disordered eating habits had tampered down a bit, but I was still living in a tunnel, unaware of what was going on inside of me. 

It wasn’t until I kicked my friend out of the house that I realized I was living as a shell of myself and had been for years. I won’t put the blame on that person living with us because it was I who was trying to fit into the (very thin) shadow of her life. And it was time to figure out who I was outside of that friendship, and now who I was with my husband as well. 

It was the first time I had to take a really hard look at myself and figure out how I wanted to move forward with my life. The keyword being “I”. Up until that point, I had made decisions for myself, but I was easily persuaded and influenced by those around me, even if that wasn’t what I personified on the outside. 

The Promise

When she moved out, COVID was ramping up, and so was the solitude. But I made a promise to myself then that I would never restrict my body out of fear, shame, or guilt ever again. 

So I stopped. I stopped restricting. I stopped punishing my body. And finally, let my physical body rest. This was the thread that truly started unraveling everything else. This was the first step towards coming home to myself and feeling comfortable in my body again. 

There’s more to this story, so stay tuned for the next part. I share these stories with you in hopes that you realize that you are one decision, one situation away from choosing yourself. From putting you first. It’s easy to live your day-to-day in a tunnel, without really thinking about who you are or what you’re feeling, but is that truly living? 

If this resonated with you, I’d love to hear from you. Join me on Instagram or feel free to send me an email.