So, today is three years since my really good friend Alyson passed away. She and I met when we were admitted on the same day to the eating disorders program at the University of Iowa. During our time there we got to be friends and were in very close contact until her death. On this anniversary the past two years, I’ve gone to the women’s veterans memorial at Arlington Cemetary to be in a space that I know was deeply important to her (she was a veteran and made a trip to DC specifically to see the memorial). This year, I wasn’t able to get away from work to go. Instead, I spent some time with one of my really good friends at the end of the day, which was nice. And I thought I’d do a little writing here…
There were several things that Alyson and I had in common and many that we didn’t. The commonality that we shared with one another most often was our prayer that the other would fully recover from her eating disorder. And, ultimately, the biggest difference has ended up being that she didn’t get that opportunity. Too much physical damage had been done already and she lost her battle. On days like today, I remember how important it is for me to 1) recognize when there is still a battle raging inside of me and 2) continue fighting it.
Tonight, I find myself a little teary-eyed… for the loss of my friend, for the acceptance that I still have a ways to go with this myself, and for the way that hating our bodies instead of celebrating them has become normalplace for the majority of us.
Tomorrow, I know I’ll wake up, as I do most days, ready to go back out and try to change things so that perhaps one day I’ll have a daughter or a niece who might be spared the experience of thinking (and being told) that dieting and shaping and molding her body into anything other than its natural form is what’s expected of her…
I have a particular candle that I light in memory of both Alyson and Andrea, my other friend who lost her life to an eating disorder. When I got home tonight, I lit it and took a photo to share here with you…
Woman, with a candle lighted / to help her keep faith with her own life… / a centered presence / spreading in concentric circles around her.
~Judith Duerk, ‘Circle of Stones’