When you were all little I would write notes to you on your birthday. Some appeared on the blog and others have since been pasted into scrapbooks or left in desk drawers. Today I sit smack dab in between your 16th (Sophie) and 18th (Emma) birthdays, wondering how we have come so very far. We feel light years away from the time of sticky summer popsicle-drip coated hands, hours of endless playground playdates, and reminders about whose turn it is to feed our hamster Cinnamon Ginger. You are closer to women than girls. And our conversations now have a hearty substance that feels grown up. I adore who you both are becoming.

I don’t feel that same sense of urgency - to shape and mold you both into fine upstanding citizens. Because I look into your eyes (now at eye-level with my own) and I see the way you care and wonder about the world around you. You have developed the ability to choose the right thing, even when the wrong thing might be the popular decision or more fun. You fight for the underdog, are honest, and inclusive. I’m grateful you call me regularly from school to update me on your lives, and I count down the minutes until you come home for holiday weekends. Summer is my heaven. Slow days, a little too much TV time, and backyard dinners where our laughter continues way past the time when the sun has set. The fireflies in the yard still take me back to the evenings running around the back yard collecting them in jars.

We recently went to Vermont and rented a small house with just enough space for board games in the family room. Each of us were allocated one half of a queen sized bed. In Vermont we live in t-shirts and wet bathing suits. We dine on sandwiches while sitting cross legged on rocks at our favorite swimming hole. It is simple living and I am so grateful that it remains your favorite way to be. I hope you never lose your love of the small things in life. And I hope you always remember that a small happy home is better than a big lonely one. I recently read a quote in a book called The Bright Years. In it one of the characters reminds the reader that “A little life is a great feat.” Sometimes I see you both pondering what you will do and become. I feel the weight of the world encouraging you to seek something “bigger” than the thing you want. Wondering if your goal is lofty enough. Maybe that’s the whole problem right now. We all just expect too much. Find a dream and make it yours - no matter what anyone else says about it.

What words of wisdom do I still have to share? Many you have heard before, but they are worth repeating. I hope you choose the path that leads to happiness, joy and content. Your dad and I tell you all the time that we don’t care what you do with your time, as long as you give it your all. Please believe us. We want you to sink into things that light you up! We have lost friends, family members, and seen a lot of suffering in the last 2 decades. Hardship will come for us all. So if you make sure the time you are given is purposeful and full of light, then that will sustain you through the hard times. You will come out on the other side changed for the better. The scars will make you stronger and wiser.

Friendship is something we discuss often. I recently made a new friend at 45 and she has become a treasure in my day to day. I explained to you that sometimes you have to close doors on friendships that no longer serve you. It is painful and confusing, but it opens space for new friends to walk in and plant roots. You have to have faith in the process. Trust that God has you right where you are meant to be. In middle school you felt more of a sting when you were left out of a plan or party. I see now how you have become more comfortable with the idea that a “no” to one plan is often a “yes” to something far better. Remember that when plans fall through and you are on your own. Time alone, without a phone or other distraction, is a good time to take inventory and just relax into the stillness. Even at 50, I am still working on this.

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And speaking of God’s plan. The single best choice we made when raising you was to give you an open doorway into a relationship with God. We didn’t force church after a certain age, but we went weekly and gave you the option to join. I was and continue to be grateful that you choose to come with us. The thing about religion is that it reminds you that Dad and I are humans. We will mess up. We will say the wrong thing, and advise you with good intentions but sometimes bad outcomes. BUT God will be there always. And he is in the business of “good”. Every up and down is a part of his plan, and it is all necessary to get you to the final place he has always intended. Believing in God takes the pressure off of us to get it all right. Love and grace are what He wants for and from us. If that is what you focus on, you will be just fine throughout the journey.

And speaking of love - kiss fools. I wish I had been braver. Leaned in, instead of waiting for a cute boy to make the first move. Always respect your body, your sexuality, and your right to choose - but a summer kiss by a bonfire, even if you know you will most likely never see that boy again, is a memory you will giggle about down the road. And please do fall in love. Often if you can. Fall in love with people, places, art, and music. I see how a great song can transcend each of you into a completely different head space. Keep going to concerts, and finding new artists. Keep singing loudly in the car, even if you are off key. Say yes to all the beauty and chaos that this world will send your way. I am beyond grateful to be by your side. This front row view, watching you both live your lives if my greatest blessing.

Love always and forever,

Your Mom

Artisana Cashew Butter - Without a doubt the best cashew butter I have ever had. Sold at Whole Foods and off Amazon, it has the consistency of Nutella and the rich flavor of high end cashews. Get it before it’s gone!

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Aerie Sunnie Demi Bra - This bra is IT! It fits the biggest of busts and the smallest. Those that ride high, and those that swing low. And the great news is that Aerie usually does great sales. It’s 25% off on the site right now.

Off Campus - Guys. GUYS! I can barely speak about this. I am a Wellsy and Graham fan for life. Not going to lie, TV has gotten so much steamier since we were young - maybe not the best watch with your kids... This is not your mom’s Dawson’s Creek or 90210. But if you need a little laughter and love to kick off your summer, this is it! The chemistry between the characters is next level. I’m waiting for the sequel which comes out mid-2027!

Caudalie Sunscreen - We scooped this up in France on our last trip and ended up doubling down and bringing back 3 tubes with us. The texture is light, and the fragrance is fabulous.

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Yesteryear - This book has been recommended to me by so many people. I am about to dive in on Audible. Will report back with a review in a few weeks. And I am a huge fan of Book Clubs, and have pondered starting one over Zoom during the summer. If you are looking to nerd out and have a real chat once you have read it just send me a message on Substack and I will line it up!!

Oh my word. This month has been a doozy. I called a friend at the end of last week and broke into conversation before she could even say “hello.” It went something like, “Have you ever felt like you are locked into a roller coaster, going mach speed, and the breaks have broken? It goes faster and faster and you definitely want to get off, but you absolutely cannot, as you would be whipped into outer space or plummet to your death on the hard cement below.” I think we all know where this is going… May has ended, summer is upon us, and yet a lot of us just need a moment to pull the break, press pause, and re-stabilize. Holy cowzers. Between the end of school year tests, paperwork for summer jobs, social gatherings, culminating projects and teacher meetings - the days have whizzed by. I also squeezed in a ton of work and one big sidewalk sale for Lindley Pless Pottery. I was left with a hazy recollection of all the events mashed together. Was it my youngest who needed a birthday gift for a friend, or was it a thank you note my middle was supposed to write to a teacher who had really supported her this past year? I had literally lost the thread. It ended with me wandering the house, the evening after the above-mentioned phone call, mumbling to anyone who would listen, “I am just so stressed. No really. I just feel so anxious. Maybe I need a glass of wine? Or a gummy? God, I am so stressed!” It wasn’t my finest moment…

I think the big trigger for this anxiety bomb was the dog injury that happened 3 weeks ago and has completely consumed my thoughts since then. I have the best dog in the world. She is a 10 year old Pointing Griffon named Milly. To know her is to love her. She never has accidents in the house, walks busy streets without a leash remaining stuck to my side, and has a calm supportive demeanor that makes everything and everyone feel better. I often say that there will never be another living creature on this planet that loves me as much as Milly has. I am her person. On the eve of her 10th birthday she fell going up a steep set of stairs that are uncarpeted. In the 24 hours that followed she lost her ability to use her back legs. We started at our vet in town, and ended up seeing a neurological specialist in Brewster, NY. Milly was both bewildered and stoic. She never once cried or whined while I on the other hand was a puddle most mornings as I lay with her on the kitchen floor willing her to get better. Steroids definitely helped, and since then she has been on a 6-8 week lockdown in our kitchen. No stairs or walks longer than out to the back yard to use the bathroom a few times a day. The steroids started to take affect around day 7, but by then I was shaken and exhausted from carrying her backside in and out of the home to avoid watching her attempt to stand up on her own legs, legs which just wobbled and swam on the floor, too weak to help her get up. I am beyond grateful that each day she gets a little better and stronger, but worried that this incident has slowed her down for the long haul. Before this Milly loved a long 3-5 mile walk and a dip in the pool to follow. So far she hasn’t been motivated to do much more than lie on the kitchen floor (poor thing has hot spots on her rump and elbow) and watch me move about my day.

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So Milly’s injury is perhaps where it began, and the end of year chaos is where it ended. Then Sunday our entire town lost power from noon until 8pm and I finally paused. An enormous American flag blew off the WWE building in Stamford, hit a transformer, and the lights went out in an entire town. (Do we think the symbolism is on point? Yes we do.) I had pottery orders to fill, doctor’s forms to sit down and send, and website design to work on - but in an instant I lost lights, wifi, and the use of my pottery wheel. I found myself fully clothed, lying on a lounge chair in the back yard, just spacing out. There was nothing I could do but sink into the stillness. And there I just breathed. I felt the anxiety slowly deflate like a balloon with a tiny pin-prick hole. Perhaps you need to find that moment? Or something else like it. It felt close to disassociation, but as I lay there I made myself be present and inside my head I reminded myself that the gentle breeze, stillness, and natural beauty of the trees and flowers around me was all I needed in that moment.

Lest you misunderstand the full picture, it’s important that I say that a lot of what has been happening is wonderful. Kids returning from boarding school. Family movie nights piled on the sofa. And warm weather which means outdoor dining and long evening walks. There is so much good, but as the roller coaster races the track, it’s almost as if all that good stuff is just a blur that gives me whiplash as I try to catch a glimpse as we cruise by. And that is not the point. The point of the tough stuff is to get through it with some awareness, and eventually make it to the other side. But the point of the good stuff, is to enjoy it as it is happening. We can’t force that, but we can lean into it for sure. Gently. Slowly. And with purpose.

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And this got me thinking about all of us other humans. Are we capable of acknowledging and appreciating our superpowers, or do we too often focus on the lagging skill that feels like it is holding us back. I myself was always told I was “too emotional” or “too sensitive”. I spent a lifetime trying to toughen up. And in recent years I have had a few friends affirm that my sensitivity (and honesty about my own struggles) made me more approachable. They found me to be a safe space to share their feelings, and in the sharing and support I offered, they found healing. Imagine if I had listened all those years ago and smoothed out all the soft edges of myself? Perhaps I would have lost some of my value in this chaotic world.

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I recently watched the documentary Left Behind about dyslexia and the need for more consciousness and effort in the public school system to identify and teach to this learning disability. (More on that later!) After the screening I was speaking to a few parents whose children have dyslexia. Sadly when children have unidentified dyslexia they are often told and made to feel like something is wrong with them at school. And that can in effect make them doubt their intelligence and purpose. I know many of their children and they are amazing. While their brains do not allow them to traditionally process numbers and letters the way others do, I see in them so many more valuable skills, emotions, and intelligence traits. Different doesn’t mean worse. It just means special.

And when we look at our children and compare them, it’s a brilliant case study on leading and lagging skills. One of my kids excels at reading, one can’t stand sitting down with a book. The one who likes reading struggles in other ways that my non-book loving child excels. My husband can travel to a location once, and then never again gets lost in that area. I on the other hand spend more time lost than found. But I can hand sew a Halloween costume for any one of our children. Hand John a needle and thread and it’s like giving a panda a keyboard to type an essay. Leading and lagging skills. See what I mean?

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Most research shows that if a person loses one of their senses, the others are heightened and become more adept. And I believe this theory holds true for human skills as well. So today as you look at yourself, your children, your friends, your community - I encourage you to see them through a new lens. While we may be frustrated that someone seems to be lagging in a certain area, I guarantee there is something else within them that is adding great value to the world around them. We all have talents, and are destined to change the world in some small way for the better. The goal is for us, as a community, to create space and time to see the shiniest part within each of us.

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The last few years have felt astonishingly out of control. The world has felt at war. Literally and figuratively. Sides are divided. People are hurting. Many are sick, chronically or terminally. And the idea of scarcity has people hoarding over sharing, and judging over loving. When the world feels chaotic I need more time to sit in the quiet solitude. I need to create a space where I can just feel the emotions that come along with all I witness in my home, on the news, and through the voices of others. I sent my second child away to boarding school this fall and became even more acutely aware of just how fast time passes. Her departure was a very real wake up call for me. My time somehow became more precious and I found myself self-selecting out of any plan that didn’t fill my cup either emotionally, spiritually or physically. I yearned to be with only people who really mattered to me. Less fluff and more content in my time and conversations. I’m grateful this year has allowed me space to thoughtfully weigh the places and people I want to pour my energy into. And quite frankly as I inch towards 50, it has felt like the perfect time to make sure that I head into the “second half” with very clear boundaries and intentions.

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Boundaries are important when it comes to barriers that limit your exposure to things that cause you stress, but boundaries are also important to keep and protect things within them. Without clearly defined boundaries it is hard to differentiate between what matters and doesn’t. Both the good and the bad of life can feel mixed and muddled in one large soup. But as I created boundaries these last few years to keep the bad out, I inadvertently made it very easy for myself to see the good that was within. And so much of the good dwelled within great friendships. People who lifted me up, made me laugh, were honest with me, and accepted me just as I am, crazy quirks and all. I have realized time and again just how critical connection and intimacy are when building a life that matters.

Intimacy is a word often misunderstood to be about only physical connection. But let me dive a little deeper into what I meant in the previous paragraph. For me, intimacy happens between all living things, whether romantically involved or not. Do you have any friends and you know their schedule by heart? Because if you do that means that you talk enough and concentrate enough on what matters to them that you know where they’re going to be and when. You clearly talk about what matters and are paying attention. It means knowing the days when you should call and check in. It means knowing the days when you should give them a high five because they’ve accomplished something they have been working towards. An intimate friendship is one where you know not call them at 8:30 on Friday because that’s when they take a special class. Or you send that text the day they are saying farewell to something or someone who matters - just to remind them they are not alone.

I recently checked in on a friend whose child had a surgery that had been planned for months. I set a calendar to remind myself that intimacy means sending a three word text just to let the person know you see them, you feel their concern from afar, and you care about the outcome of the situation. A few weeks back I was taken down with a horrific back spasm. I knew my husband needed to be away for work, and he hesitated going on the trip, fearing I wouldn’t be able to care for our 11 year old son or myself for that matter! My little guy did a great job of taking care of me - and we even Facetimed so I could explain to him how to use the coffee maker from the room next door. And then I did something I never would have done 20 years ago. I called a few neighbors who happen to be my closest friends and asked for help. I was trapped in bed, unable to walk, and the biggest snow storm of the last 5 years was headed our way. I knew I needed food and meds to be picked up from the local pharmacy. And my tribe showed up. I felt a little discomfort being needy and asking for help, BUT I reminded myself of the honor and happiness I feel when someone trusts me enough to ask for help when they are in need. I convinced myself I was giving that same boost of happiness to my friends by asking them to be there for me. The entire painful situation reminded me that there is so much love shared in small thoughtful gestures. And true intimacy means sharing your truths and asking for help.

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I guess the point of this realization to me was how important deep connection remains in the world right now. I think what I’ve come to realize is that a lack of intimacy in life creates a deep sense of loneliness. What I challenge each of us to do in this spring season, which can be quite chaotic and over-stimulating, is to think about who you can create intimacy with. And also to ask yourself, “Are you being a good intimate connected friend with others?” I spend a lot of time making lists and accomplishing tasks. And sometimes I forget to carve out a quiet time in my day when I can ask myself who or what I need to check in on? Who do I need to worry about or be thoughtful towards. And when I do those things, I have a strong sense that my children are watching and paying attention. They then in turn, are the kinds of kids who do that to someone else. We need to make a world full of good friends. Young people who become adults who don’t shy away from knowing people well, and caring for them deeply. All these years later I stand firm in my belief that connectedness and kindness really can heal the world.

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For as far back as I can remember, I have had questions about the day of my mother’s birth. I knew from the beginning that she had been adopted. I also knew that she had many questions about her birth and yearned to meet her biological family to better understand “where she came from.” She was born on a Leap Year, February 29th; but that wouldn’t come to light until many decades after her birth. My mom was born to an immigrant woman living in the projects of the Lower East Side in New York City. The woman had 5 children, and a long-term extramarital affair left her pregnant with a sixth child, whom she decided to give away. When she told this to her obstetrician, he told her that he had a couple, who was also a patient of his, and dying for a healthy child. He said that they would be willing to pay for her unborn child. So that was how my mom became somewhat illicitly sold for $10,000 from a woman in a tough situation to a family yearning for a child.

My mom was adopted by a very kind older man in his 50s, and a woman named Ruth. Ruth had lost two children days after they were born, struggled with schizophrenia, and was relatively unfit to be a parent. Over the two decades to follow, my mom would move from New York to Florida (when her father retired), her mother would disappear after a horrific bout of schizophrenia, and their marriage would end in divorce. My mom would then eventually come under the care of a stepmother who disliked her strongly and made it obvious that she had no interest in parenting her. She showered her with verbal and sometimes physical abuse. Ruth, her adopted mother, resurfaced when my mom was in her 20s. Their relationship was rife with extreme ups and downs, as Ruth was medicated on-and-off (sometimes very unsuccessfully) until the end of her life.

I remember being 10, and it was my mother’s birthday. We drove from New Canaan to White Plains to visit my grandmother Ruth. It was February 27th, the day that my mom had believed to be her birthday her entire life. When my mom showed up, Ruth, deep in a schizophrenic spiral, refused to open her apartment door. She had full time nursing care at this point and demanded that the nurse not let my mother in. I listened to her yelling at my mother through the closed door. She said, “Go away. You know, Blanche, I never wanted you, and today isn’t even your real birthday. You were born on February 29th; but we wanted you to have a birthday that happened every year, so we just told you that you were born on February 27th.” My mom was crushed. We quietly walked away from the door, and it would be many months before we tried to contact her again. That double epiphany had been a punch to my mom’s gut. She had not only been born unto parents who didn’t want her, but she also had to wrestle with her birth “day” being stolen out from under her. She was actually born on a day that only existed once every 4 years. My mom was once again left to wonder where she belonged, where she came from, and what her place was in this world.

In the years that followed, we would talk often about my mom’s adoption and my mom’s constant curiosity about if there were people out there who looked like her or us. And then, nearly four decades after her birth, my mom would hire a private investigator to help her find her biological family. She knew their last name, that they lived in New York City, and that her “father” had been a hat maker. And from those tiny pieces of information the man would call 4 days later to tell my mother that he thought he had found her family, and that he believed her biological mother had also given up two boys after she had given up my mother. We would meet them and finally know whom we looked like. They would be shocked to find out their mother had given away children (she was under 5 feet tall and very overweight, making it nearly impossible to tell that she was pregnant), and we would be responsible for opening a chapter in their lives that left them hurt and bewildered. Clearly their mother had kept many secrets from them throughout her life. Sadly my mother’s biological mother had passed away just a few years before we found them, so many questions we all had would be left unanswered forever.

Last summer another piece of the puzzle was solved when one of my mother’s biological siblings (who she kept in touch with from time to time) called to say that another “brother” had been found. Through Ancestry.com, a young man found out he had a cousin living two states over. The father told his son that it was impossible because he was an only child. And when his son insisted he said, “Well, I was adopted, so maybe this is someone from my birth story.” A reunion was planned, genetic tests were taken, and my mom and I drove to Long Island City that summer to meet the man to whom she was 100% a genetic match. They shared the same father and mother. The biological siblings my mother met in her 40s also decided to be tested, and all of them proved to have the same mother as my mom and this man, but different fathers. Bit by bit, the mystery continued to be solved.

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And that brings us to today, February 28, 2026. These words are such a small piece of this very big story. The part I reflect on most often, in the quiet of my own bed when the darkness settles in, and the more important underpinning to the story is the emotions that this sequence of events has stirred up in all of us. It has been a hard journey for my mom. A journey that has left many cracks in her heart’s facade. One that has been wrought with tears, but redemption as well. The brother she met last year was adopted into a loving family, and had a wonderful childhood. My mom went on to marry (more than once) and have five children of her own. It has been far from perfect, but it has been a full life, life with love hidden in unexpected places. Friends and mentors have stepped into all of our lives when we looked to our lineage and couldn’t find the “family” we needed to light the way and teach us. So there is that. And so much more.

And here is my wish for you if your story is not the story you wished it was. To anyone out there who feels misplaced, unloved, or unsure of where they belong in this bright big world, I’d like to remind you that “finding your place” is more than just knowing the date or location of when or where you came into this world and made your mark. And finding family is about more than knowing who birthed you. Family can be found in deep and meaningful chosen friendships. It can be found in the partner you choose, or the children you give birth to. Loneliness is in all of us, and it is only when we open our hearts, honestly share our stories, and seek love in meaningful places that it can be lifted from within us.

One Trick Pony - I am a big fan of all nut butters! And I really love the organic brands with no additives. The issue is that usually means a layer of oil on top and a complete mess when you try to mix it up. This upside down jar design is brilliant. No stirring needed. And the end product is delicious and smooth! (It seems to be sold out online, but you can find it at 365 Collective on Greenwich Ave., and Balducci’s in Riverside.)

Natori Sports Bra - As gravity takes affect on my aging body I have found sports bras to be a tricky purchase. They either flatten, or don’t support. This one has a gentle underwire and a little padding. Just what you need to layer under white tennis clothes, and all your favorite workout tops. Amazon carries it in multiple colors, and ships in 48 hours with Prime.

People We Meet on Vacation - This is absolutely the cutest rom-com of the year. The main characters have fabulous chemistry. It’s light, a little sexy, and the perfect watch for today if you are stuck inside due to snowmageddon 2026!! Not going lie, I replayed the dance sequence 5 times. Beyond adorable!

CALM Magnesium Glycinate - There is no way to sugar coat this one. I have struggled with sleep issues and constipation for years. The two have nothing to do with each other BUT this supplement helps them both! Go figure! I double the dose and it helps me get back to sleep more easily if I wake in the middle of the night, and it keeps me regular in the morning. Sorry, not sorry to share this one. ;)

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Shrinking - This show. It’s brilliant. Wickedly funny and sentimental at the same time. The new season just came out and I am diving in ASAP! It’s on AppleTV.

Baiia Convertible Swimsuit - I stumbled across this brand on Instagram. Let’s be honest, I have made some wildly wonky purchases off the “Gram” and have been so disappointed. But this suit is excellent. It is double lined so it really sucks you in, and it is convertible so you can wear it 6 different ways. Worth trying for spring break for sure.

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I am fresh off the heels of a magical yoga retreat at Seesaw’s Lodge in Manchester, VT. The retreat was led by the indomitable Georgia Reath of Blue Light Yoga, and Katama Eastman who (with the help of her husband and business partners) renovated the lodge years ago and is also a spectacular photographer in her own right. This will have been my fifth year joining the most fabulous group of women for time to reflect, be open, share and move my body. Many of us have been coming for years, and even though we only get together once a year, we sink right back into an intimacy and connectedness that is hard to explain. There is no judgment, plenty of tears, and an abundance of laughter as we catch up on life and all that can change and stay the same in a twelve month period.

Spiritually the retreat is incredibly fulfilling, and physically it is off the charts. We do yoga, snow-shoe, and cross country ski. This year I chose to join for a 5 mile snow shoe, half of which was a steep incline to the top of a small “mountain”. We were dripping with sweat and huffing and puffing all the way up, and on the way down we slid on our bums, stumbled often, and marched through three foot depths while laughing continuously. By the end my muscles were tired, sore, and satisfied. On the ascent there were many moments when I thought to turn back, as sadly these days my default setting has become caution and doubt in my strength. But each time I considered stopping I tapped into my warrior woman part and convinced myself I could do it. No one on the hike knew this inner-dialogue was happening. I didn’t quit, and the relief and pride I felt upon reaching our summit was wonderful. The entire way down I wondered why that voice of doubt kept telling me I wasn’t equipped to finish what I had started. And that got me to thinking about the sense of smallness I feel within myself. The voice that tells me I am not good enough, strong enough, or brave enough to do the hard thing. This sentiment was being applied to a physical outdoor activity, but it could easily have been a myriad of other moments happening regularly in my life.

The mindset, in my opinion, is one of playing it safe and small. When we are young our mentality is one of courage, new ventures, and often pushing ourselves to the edge of our strength. And then as adults we start to play it safer. We wonder if our voice is “too much” for the world around us, our behavior “too big” for the moment we are living in. There is a messaging, often to women and girls in particular, that a lady doesn’t demand too much. Women who do demand a big piece of the pie are labeled brash, bitchy, bossy, or selfish. I think the thing we are missing here is that if you do play it big, and live into your gifts and strengths, there is a way to do it with grace and confidence. That’s the thing I keep driving home with my girls when I notice they are shrinking. Be the biggest and best version of yourself. Just always try and do it with kindness, grace, and inclusivity. And what I have surmised is that the intrinsic backlash from playing it small is self doubt. Doubt begets doubt. And let me be clear, if the wise warriors decide to stay silent and shrink away from confrontation and struggle, this broken world does not stand a chance of recovery. It is now more than ever that the voices of wisdom must step forward into the arena. Your community, your friends, and your family may not agree with what you share, but if you share it in a tone of calm confidence and respect, it will make a difference for the better.

In our final closing circle at the retreat we discuss the thing we want to take with us from the trip, and the thing we would like to leave behind. In our opening yoga class Georgia encouraged us to tap into our hearts and hear what it was needing from us, the word that we would be focusing on throughout the week. I immediately heard my heart and body telling me it craved unconditional love. In the closing circle I realized what that meant. In a world where humans seem to be waisting away, my body was saying, “Stop with the shrinking!” I so clearly saw that my body is begging me to give it a break. I like so many learned that women are meant to be thin and firm and capable of sliding through the narrow cracks of life. But how does that mindset meld with the idea of being strong and bold? They are not two mindsets that can exist in the same space. And when we layer in eating disorders, the overuse of GLPs, images on social media doctored by filters and AI it is no wonder that our brains are confused by which mindset is more valid.

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So the big important question becomes, why do we as humans, feel the need to play it small? Why do we wonder if we are “too much” and quiet the voice within ourselves that yearns to dance, sing, share, laugh, eat and LIVE? I came home with a commitment to self, to continuing to grow and expand. I don’t want to shrink away from life’s opportunities and sweetness. I want to expand into the opportunities in front of me. And I want that for my children too. A few too many times I have watched my daughters in a changing room trying on clothes, sucking in their stomachs and tightening their waists to see how small they can become in the mirror. Or wanting to try out for a play, a high level class, or a sports team - and wondering if they are “good enough” to do it. Team, we are good enough. Let’s together live into all that life offers.

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It is such a special season, but it can also be a hard one. And that is ok. After the dust had settled on Thanksgiving I made the dreaded mistake of zoning out on Instagram before bed. The imagery was intense. Perfectly set tables, large groups of smiling families, and wording that implied that inside every other home things had been beauty and bliss. But guys, let’s get real here for a sec. Estrangement and family trauma happens more often than not. It just doesn’t make for a good “insta image”, so we silently pick the best photo from the day and wrap it all up in a tidy little bow on social media. We don’t highlight the relative who drank too much and lost their shit on you, or the child who flailed on the floor when you told them they couldn’t have a tenth cookie before bed, or the family member who didn’t call and in a sign of stubborn hurt you didn’t call them either just to prove a point. This is the reality of life, the soup. The mixture of highs and lows, good and bad, and the being human part of it all.

So how do we then find the peace and love that is meant to be mingled into this season of joy? I think we have to intentionally make space for it. For me it’s church on Sunday for sure. During the advent season we are reminded that the original gift of Christmas came in the form of an innocent baby who would teach us all that caring for the least among us and unconditional love is what this season is meant to be about. I also dip deeper into self care. I was wiped, emotionally and physically this past weekend, so I allowed myself to nap on the sofa for an hour. No guilt attached. And maybe for you this year it is more boundaries. You do NOT have to invite people into your home that judge you or hurt you with their words and actions. Or perhaps you text the family beforehand and remind them of topics that are best left out of the family conversation around the table. As a family we just don’t talk politics. And if someone brings them up I quickly shift to some silly topic that gets the younger people chatting. “What does 6-7 really mean?” That’s a good way to confuse the elderly and make your kiddos laugh. And then the most important thing we can do is think of someone in need this season, and offer them that little bit of help and love. Soup kitchens need shelf stable food, many non-profits have giving trees where you choose one family to gift with coats and presents, and we will be helping The Scarlett Fund this year by making holiday cards for children and health care workers in cancer wards around the US. You cannot possibly feel anger or anxiety while doing a project like this one!

And lastly the most important thing I have learned is that friendship and connectedness make us all feel better. I check in daily via text or phone calls with a few dear friends - and even if the call lasts just 1 minute, the call brings me levity and makes me feel seen and loved. In person connection can really feed the soul. Reach out to a trusted friend in this season and make time for a coffee, or a long walk. Even scheduling a phone date is a great option if you are in different towns or both busy with work/life. I keep a list by my bed of the people who are my biggest blessings. Sometimes just reading it before bed reminds me of the bounty and good fortune I have in my life. I choose to look at that love list and know that even after a hard day, I have what truly matters. I hope in these next few weeks leading up to the new year you too feel safe, seen, and loved.

Black Rabbit - Jason Bateman and Jude Law have long been on my list of favorite actors. While Bateman is often known for comedy, and Law for romance, in this dark thriller the pair play brothers. While on the surface they look wildly different, in this show they are very believable as brothers running from a dark past. Both characters are riddled with flaws, but in the end you find yourself routing for them both. This one is bingeworthy.

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Get Hard - This movie is beyond R-rated, but in my opinion it is some of Will Ferrell and Kevin Hart’s best work. Ever. These two were meant to act on the same stage. Ferrell plays a soft nepo-man who fears he is going to be sent to prison for a crime he didn’t commit. He hires Kevin Hart to train him on how to be “hard” enough to survive prison. What unfolds is irreverent, hysterical and wildly entertaining. If you need a good laugh and a break from the ups and downs of the world at large, this movie is a great choice. Be warned, the language is atrocious so do not watch this one when your younger children might walk into the room.

Breath, by James Nestor - This book about the importance of breathing the correct way is absolutely brilliant. Nestor takes you back through time and helps the reader to understand how the evolution of human beings has hindered the way we breath both mentally and physically. Reading this was part of the reason my husband started mouth taping at night. Now three years later he will be the first to tell you he sleeps much better breathing through his nose. The health benefits of breathing the correct way are numerous. The science behind the studies cited back up Nestor’s belief that breathing can help to cure autoimmune disorders, anxiety, PTSD, sleeplessness, and a whole host of other issues. READ THIS BOOK NOW.

The Correspondent, by Virginia Evans - I have a friend who is a brilliant literary agent, and all book recs these days are coming through her. She recommended this book and it did not disappoint. Evans tells the story of Sybil Van Antwerp (a mother, divorcee, retired lawyer, and avid reader) through a lifetime of correspondence with friends, family, strangers and loved ones. She’s a quirky character but absolutely brilliant - and that becomes apparent as you read the letters she wrote throughout her lifetime. I like nothing more than when a novel feels like a true story. Thanks to Evans’ spot on writing - I felt like I was there with the characters and reading about a beautiful life that was really lived.

Doughy - ‘Tis the season of eating! And before you double down on pie and cookies, this might be my best rec yet. I have a major sweet tooth. I found this “dough” at Wholefoods and have become obsessed! It has five simple ingredients and one scoop totally satisfies sugar cravings!

Gap Athletic Shirts - In fall and winter I prefer to workout in a long sleeved shirt. This one from Gap is perfect! Lightweight, comes in tons of colors, and is currently on sale. It’s so soft you will want to sleep in it instead of working out. Oh well!

Madewell Darted Barrel Jean - I have long thought about buying the Nili Lotan barrel jeans, but the price tag is steep, and I wasn’t sure if barrel jeans were a passing trend. Then I found this perfect dupe by Madewell. They are also on sale, and the fit is very similar to their 3-times the price NL counterpart. (I ordered the petits but they make them in regular length too.) Get them while they are hot!

Double Eyeglass Case - I have become so farsighted in recent years (thank you perimenopause!) so I am constantly needing readers. I also always have a pair of sunglasses in my bag. Two big cases take up a lot of room. This double glasses case keeps them both in the same place so I can go back and forth between the two as needed. Takes up less space and saves time - win/win!

I recently tried to explain this to my teenage daughter who is in the midst of junior year in high school. She is worried about grades, and tests, and applications - which eventually tip-toes into the realm of “How will I find the right school?” and then creeps its way into “How will I find the right job?” and even inches into “And what about my people? and my forever person?” And that’s when I realized I needed to explain my theory on “Deeply Feeling Humans” to her.

Deeply Feeling Humans are people who live in the high/low universe. The good feels are so very good, but the bad feels are infinitely worse for these types. DFHs are often told they are “too sensitive”, or that they need to “relax”. When the world is upside down, or a friend gets a bad diagnosis, or a crisis happens in a far off place, they feel deeply sad and concerned. Almost to a point of not being able to focus on anything but that bad news. Lest you think this is some sort of humble brag about “how much I care for others”, it actually has a weird self-focused element to it. It doesn’t make you actually act on the circumstance and need, but more you are frozen in a state of worry with very little action involved. With each of my children’s birthdays I feel their excitement and joy, but also a sad sense of loss that an age has gone by that I will never again see. A decade ago I had a very good friend who was diagnosed with a terminal disease. I became paralyzed with thoughts of what it would be like when he died. I missed him long before he was ever gone. I was depressed for weeks and couldn’t stop talking about it. My husband gently reminded me that I wasn’t the one who was sick, and it wouldn’t help my friend at all for me to linger in this dark place. He needed my optimism and prayers, not my worries. They were hard words to hear, but this was the moment when I started to dig deeper into why I couldn’t detach from the experience of another, and why I felt so comfortable dwelling in the dark waters.

I then read a book called Bittersweet, by Susan Cain. And I started to examine the good, the bad, and the ugly of being a DFH. I realized that bittersweet was my normal.

Bittersweetness is a tendency to states of long­ing, poignancy, and sorrow; an acute aware­ness of passing time; and a curiously piercing joy at the beauty of the world. It recognizes that light and dark, birth and death—bitter and sweet—are forever paired.

If you’ve ever wondered why you like sad music . . .
If you find comfort or inspiration in a rainy day . . .
If you react intensely to music, art, nature, and beauty . . .

Then you probably identify with the bitter­sweet state of mind.

-Susan Cain, Bittersweet

I realized that God, and my childhood trauma had made me this way and I needed to learn to manage both the good and bad of this type of personality. Here is what I can tell you about DFHs. They are the ones you want by your side when the shit hits the fan and you need someone to really listen or give you heartfelt advice. They will make you feel less alone. They will really get down and dirty in the muck with you, often comparing your hardship to something they themselves have lived through. They want you to know they are in it with you. They get it. BUT, the flipside is that on your big night out, if they are in a contemplative state, they won’t be the life of the party, or really even be able to enjoy the party with you. Don’t be confused, they do want to enjoy that moment, but they just can’t get out of their own way and get there. And if you ask a DFH how they are feeling, they give you the absolute truth. Often turning another person’s “fine” into a long and winding tale about all the hard things they are ruminating on. I call this “anxiety turrets”. My conscious brain is telling me to rein in the emotion and not share every dark thought I have been thinking about over the last 48 hours. The issue is that the impulse to share is too strong and I inevitably have sharer’s remorse once I have left the conversation, worried I have shared too much or monopolized the conversation. Alas, anxiety perpetuates more anxiety and worry. Go figure?!

One thing I have learned is that if you are a deeply feeling human, chances are you will have a deeply feeling child. So I consider a big part of my job as a parent to be helping my children navigate that liminal space between detaching from the world around themselves for self-preservation, and engaging just enough to acknowledge the suffering and want to help in some small way. I encourage them to feel ALL the feelings, but also to remember that each and every feeling has a beginning and an end like all things in life. I also remind them that emotions are compounded. A hard day at school feels infinitely worse after an end-of-day phone scroll where you read about a school shooting or the war in Ukraine, or starving children in Gaza. The sadness, much like the news, creates a multi-layer coating of worry. We talk a lot about the things we can do to de-stress, or peel off some of those layers.

So how do we disentangle from the hard things we see and feel around us? We create space for introspection. Just 20 minutes a day to read the news, think about something that feels hard or sad, and then a quiet moment to process it. We have to mentally remind ourselves that death and suffering are all part of the human experience. No one ever said that being a human would be easy. The critical reminder is once again that all things have a beginning and end - even the hardest things. We must remind ourselves that we will survive the hard things. They will hurt, but we were made to persist. I also do a lot of deep breathing - inhaling the good energy and purposefully pushing out the bad. Cold plunging has helped me to learn to oxyginate my physical body. When you step into 55 degree water, or a very cold shower, your natural physical inclination is to inhale deeply. That can calm the nervous system and reset your emotions. I also cry when I need to cry, and laugh when I need to shake it off. This I know for sure - we have to laugh. As a child I didn’t laugh often. I was serious, worried often, and was a DFH even back then. In recent years I have focused on finding the more playful silly side of myself. I realized my soul craved laughter. And now if I am really feeling weighed down at the end of a long day I hop onto Instagram and watch funny videos of animals doing silly things, people jumping out of closets and scaring other people, babies tasting sour lemons - all innocuous and light hearted, and sometimes I laugh until tears stream down my face. Any movie with Will Ferrell is also the perfect medicine when you need to disengage with the heavy. In my opinion he is the most funny actor out there. Expressing emotions, laughing, crying - these all help us to release the tension in our hearts. I also get into nature. I live in a beautiful suburb. That means that there are woods, long winding roads, and plenty of scenery that can ground me and remind me of the clear and obvious beauty of the natural world around us.

And beyond all this we must remember the optimism of Camus’ wise words. Because within each of us is the opportunity and option to choose light over darkness. While it is easier for some than others, the choice remains within each of us to live in the light.

“My dear,
In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love.
In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.
In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm.
I realized, through it all, that…
In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.

Truly yours,
Albert Camus”

Last year I hit some speed bumps in my day-to-day. I had one child away at boarding school. She is happy as a clam, but I would be lying if I said that watching one of your little chickadees fly the coop isn’t tough on the mama heart. Then my second faced the same choice of deciding to go away to boarding school or stay home for high school. We had applications to do, tests to take, and decisions to make. I was running my production company (at a slow and steady pace) and at the same time I was trying to launch Pless Pottery to a more substantial level of business. I am sure other small business owners can attest that there is this in-between space where you have created the product, found your market, and then must decide if you are going to take it to that next level or stay in the “hobbyland” arena. To move from hobbyland to a proper small business requires wholesale pricing, retail considerations, taxes and more time given to the behind the scenes. In the grand scheme of life, all this chaos was good chaos. It took time and energy to manage it all, but I was grateful for good health, happy kids, and a very full life.

And then in the midst of all this a family member faced a serious crisis and I needed to step in and give my undivided attention to the situation that unfolded. This was when I started to feel wildly exhausted and uncomfortable in my own skin. I was short on time and stopped meditating and working on my pottery. I cancelled gatherings with friends as I needed to be home almost 24-7. I gave up playing Bridge and exercise became something I squeezed in at a fast pace when I could steal an hour for myself. I tried to field any and all calls from my daughter who was away from home at school, but she could tell I wasn’t really present. And my two who were home got used to me running 20 minutes late for school pick up every day. I was on my phone for hours a day trying to manage the situation unfolding. I stole a 15 minute nap when I was desperate, as most nights I would wake at 3am, the ping pong ball of anxiety bouncing around inside my head, making it impossible for me to go back to sleep. My skin felt dry and sallow. I was working out much less. And when I am tired I reach for processed snacks and SUGAR. I’d skip meals, instead hoovering a bag of “healthy” popcorn in the car with a diet coke on the run. Most mornings consisted of a huge cup of coffee and no water until midday. To say my adrenals were working overtime would be a herculean understatement. And then I started to gain weight. My torso, butt and thighs packed on 10 pounds in 10 months. I felt bloated, constipated, and perpetually thirsty.

I am grateful the emergency situation resolved itself a few months later, but in its aftermath I felt dazed and confused. I still wasn’t sleeping well and had terrible headaches the week prior to my period each month. And while my period was regular, it was heavier than ever before. I was homebound on day 1-2 of my period, and running to the bathroom every two hours. I was snappy and short with my kids and husband. One night I attempted to zip a favorite dress around my torso and the zipper literally burst. That was the final straw. I needed to figure out what the heck was going on with my health. So I called on a dear friend for help. Courtney Evans is a National Board Certified Health + Wellness Coach with additional training in emotional eating psychology, gut health healing and women’s hormone health. She holds an MBA from the F.W. Olin School of Management at Babson College. We have been friends for 15 years and have spent many hours of our dear friendship talking about health and wellness. I trust her advice and I knew she would be the best first step on this journey. The first thing she recommended was a stool sample test to see how my gut was doing. She knew that might help to alleviate some of the constipation and bloating. As she suspected I was missing one of the most important gut bacterias. She immediately recommended I take prebiotics and probiotics to regrow that necessary bacteria in my gut microbiome. I then headed to my OB/GYN for a full panel of bloodwork. Courtney told me I needed to know my vitamin B level, my D level, my iron level, and my hormone levels. Hormone levels are best recorded on the third day after you start your period. They can absolutely be inaccurate any time of the month, but I was told this timing allowed for the most reliable read on what was going on.

When the results came back neither Courtney or I were surprised. My hormone levels were still pretty stable, so that meant I wasn’t ready to do Hormone Replacement Therapy. Almost everything else was out of synch. My B Vitamins were super low, and my Vitamin D levels were equally as bad. I immediately started taking this Vitamin D and this Vitamin B, both brands Courtney recommended (as we know all brands are not created equal so I bought the brands Court recommended). I had been taking Magnesium L-Threonate for about 2 years and while it helped me sleep more soundly, it did not help with constipation. Courtney recommended Magnesium Glycinate to help with sleep and constipation. I took the recommended three pills and slowly increased the dosage until I found that it helped with the constipation. With the right dosage and more fiber in my diet I started to go to the bathroom regularly each day. I also found that once again I was anemic. The heavy periods were taking their toll on me. This had happened once 4 years ago and for me the best way to treat the drastically low levels of ferritin was to get iron infusions at Greenwich Hospital under the guidance of a hematologist. Within weeks of this new regime my energy levels were 50% higher. I was no longer gassy and constipated, and I was starting to sleep better and feel more like myself.

Courtney had recommended doing my best to lower alcohol intake, cut processed foods, and eat more protein and fat. She had been recommending this for years, but stress kept dragging me back to the old loop. Less meals, more snacks, and poor food choices was my default. I then picked up Dr. Mary Claire Haver’s book The New Menopause. Everything Dr. Haver writes was in line with what I had been moving towards. She is incredibly well informed, and has a very current way of looking at the way women age. She too recommends a high fat, high protein, high fiber diet. The book does an excellent job of explaining why this combination helps women as we age. I then read her book, The Galveston Diet and that too was excellent. It is not a “diet” book, but more of a succinct chapter by chapter explanation of how and what to eat to beat perimenopause symptoms. On her recommendation I added in weight training once a week, tons more water, and I stopped eating anything with highly processed ingredients or saturated fats. Breakfasts now includes grass-fed protein powder in a smoothie or eggs and GF toast. Lunch is usually a salad with chicken or salmon on top, or sometimes homemade lentil soup with seed crackers. And dinner is usually another big piece of protein with veggies and either rice or potatoes. I will have pasta if it is well made, but no more of eating my son’s leftover buttered noodles cold from the pot. And if I am dying for sweets it is a good full-fat small serving of ice cream or dark chocolate after lunch. And would you believe I no longer crave candy and junk food? It’s true. At the movies the other night that bag of Twizzlers I used to love didn’t even appeal. The fat and protein in bigger quantities keeps me full and satiated all day. And that stubborn 10 pounds I had gained, and couldn’t lose even if I starved myself for 2 days??? Over the last 5 months I have lost 5 pounds. Now I know that sounds S-L-O-W, but I am proud to know I am losing weight the healthy way and I am hopeful it will stay off. I still have bad days when I dip into unhealthy eating, drinking, and lack of motivation to work out, but the weight stays off even then because most of the time I am making good choices.

Honestly, this blog post has so many layers. Please reach out to me if you have specific questions. And please remember I am not a trained medical professional. (Although I love to pretend I am from time to time!) While all of these things have worked for me, it is important to have doctors work alongside you on this journey. I am grateful; to have Courtney, a good GP, and an excellent endocrinologist who have guided me along the way. Be well my friends. And talk soon!

Twice over the last year I was asked if I planned to write or blog in the future. I was beyond flattered to know that the blog was missed. I never intentionally planned to stop writing. In truth, Covid quieted many things within me, including my writer’s voice. And I am grateful to say it brought to light some new internal voices as well. I had never been an “artist”, or rather allowed myself to live into the inkling within that I wanted to create something with my hands. As my “writing time” slowed down, I allowed myself to dip into a new medium. I became a potter and can confidently say it is something I plan to do well into my later years. I have a studio in my basement and find the work to be grounding and nourishing in ways I never expected. That being said, all of a sudden I started to feel that old curiosity about the power of words and sharing ones voice. And I needed a nudge. That gentle push came in many forms, so much so that I decided I needed to take it seriously and give this writing a go for the second time around.

When my first friend asked when the blog would be back, I explained that in recent years the world had felt upside down and I was too distracted and emotional to write. She reminded me that the world being upside down was just the time that I actually I needed to be writing. Her words reminded me of something I had always known. In the midst of tumult, it is the wise ones who must step forward and try to heal this broken world, and we can do that with action, example or words. We are the ones who are called to shine the light into the darkness and reveal what really matters. So I started a draft.

In that draft I asked – How are you all feeling? Have you been caring for your souls as the world seems to be on fire? Are you staying afloat? Where are you putting your time and talent? We have seen wars abroad. Whole cities go up in flames. Divisiveness across political lines. And so much physical illness. I know these things have weighed heavily on my heart, and yet… I still feel optimistic that we can recover and come out stronger. Maybe that is why I’m finally ready to be back in touch with a broader audience. Let me explain with an example.

I recently went on a surf trip to Costa Rica where I spent time with deep soulful women. They were open and honest and allowed me to share with them this yearning to use my voice again. While I surfed the subtle waves of the “white caps” I got to thinking about how much we all carry throughout our day. The ocean was too tumultuous to try the green waves this year. And that in and of itself was just the message I needed from the universe to go with the flow and not push myself too hard. So I started to think about what we as humans do when the load or burden gets too heavy. I think often we just bear down and keep carrying – hoping that our legs are strong enough to get us to the end point we desire. But what if the load literally breaks us down. We end up injured, exhausted, and resentful that we have been incapable of doing the hard thing. Maybe we are mad that no one stepped in and offered to carry it for us? Or we double down our exercise so that we are stronger for the next “heavy lift”.

Here is the thing we often overlook. None of us are meant to carry the burden alone. We must ask for help. And when we ask for help we are in fact giving someone else the opportunity to feel the pleasure of using their strength and resources to pull someone else forward. It’s the greatest win/win there is. So I ask in this first blog post in 5 years – who are you allowing to help you carry your load? Are you surrounded by people who do it with grace, or those who expect that help to be “repaid”? Are you too prideful to ask for the help? This is the rumination that we must begin with before we can live into a life of peace.

Upon arriving at the beach in Nosara for my first surf lesson I eyed a local man selling bowls in the shaded area of the sand. I wanted one. For sure. Especially the super sized extra large that had a rim that reminded me of a breaking wave. For a moment I wondered how I would get it home, but dismissed the concern and headed out to surf. And the on day 3 I decided I would just make it work. I bought the bowl. And on the day we departed I awkwardly carried my big bowl down to the exit with my other bags and suitcase. One woman said, “I was wondering how you would ever get that home??? It’s just too big!” And that is when it clicked. Even while buying this massive thing, I had faith that someone would help me to carry my load. And I knew that I had become the kind of woman who wasn’t afraid to ask for help. And better yet I had gathered the type of friends who would happily help me to carry this load or any other burden weighing on my heart. I was going to be just fine with my “big bowl”. So many people offered to help, and I felt surrounded by love and support. And did we laugh about this big bowl and it’s journey home? Yes we did. And every time I look at it on my countertop I am reminded that we can do hard things, especially if we ask for and receive help from our chosen tribe. I am convinced good humans can do anything if we combine resources and band together.

And what is next for the blog? What can you expect to hear from this little corner of the world? I want to write about friendship, sex, connection, inner-voice, travel, parenthood and love. And I’ll be tossing in some book reviews and product reviews too. For now I have no interest in making this a monetary venture. I won’t be doing product placement or paid-for content. Because I want to be authentic and honest in all I do these days. If I tell you I like it, then you know it’s legit. I have zero judgement of influencers or bloggers who make a business of this craft. There is room for all of us. I learned long ago that the fear of scarcity leads to the death of collaboration. So if you want to share insights or brands on the blog just let me know. I am always open to partnership with good humans. If in any way I can help to lighten your load, or carry your burdens with you – I am here for it. Be in touch. And thank you from the bottom of my heart for joining me on this journey the second time around.

Over the last 15 years I have become much more open about sharing my eating disorder story and how it has affected my life. In my 20s and 30s I realized just how many people struggle with disordered eating (it comes in many shapes and forms) and there is so much shame around it. I wanted to say, “I share because I no longer want this secret to have power over me anymore. I don’t want to carry this shame.” I hoped my courage would allow others to discuss and release their pain too. For so long I had verbally abused myself each time I binged and purged. Why couldn’t I just have will-power? Why couldn’t I stop throwing up? Why wasn’t I strong enough to just stop eating instead of eating and then throwing up? For so many years this was the dialogue inside my head. And I hated to think that other humans (young and old) were still living in this loop. I wanted to in some small way help others to free themselves from this cycle.

For many years I did not share my story with my children because I feared telling my daughters might somehow trigger an interest in weight loss the unhealthy way. And the last thing I ever wanted was for them to bear the burden of this awful disease. It is something you can recover from, but I believe the truth is that it will always be with you. I tell people I am a “recovering bulimic”. Because much like alcoholism, bulimia is an addiction, and I don’t want to fool myself into believing that I have no more ties to this way of thinking. I know it is there beneath the surface, and that reminds me to continually do the work and to take care of myself every day. On my bad days I still feel that inner bully judging me. You gain weight, and a slight sense of panic is triggered deep in your subconscious. You have a scoop of ice cream in Italy with your children, and you are reminded of the years when you would eat a whole tub and vomit it up immediately. It’s there, but now I am in charge, and I have the tools to calm that scared child’s voice and remind her that one ice cream is not the end of the world, and that all the good my body does for me is worth so much more than the flaws I fixate on when I am stressed or scared.

Last year I saw my beautiful daughter processing the bodies around her and the images she saw on social media and questioning if she was thin enough. I was worried that in a world where GLPs are often misused to make thin healthy women turn their curves into skeletal frames, she might do something unhealthy to look that way. I told her my story to help her understand that no drastic measure is ever the right choice if the primary goal is to love yourself and care for your health. She was upset to hear my truth but compassionate and understanding. We talked a lot about loving your body for all the amazing things it does. We talked about the benefits of being strong. And the long term damage of starving your body of the nutrients and vitamins it needs to thrive. I shared how therapy helped me to heal from my trauma, but that during Covid I turned to meds to help me quiet the voice of judgement and anxiety when it became too loud. I do not take medication lightly and I did EMDR, talk therapy, meditation, and cold plunging before realizing I needed chemical help to finally move past this colossal stumbling block.

So what I have learned in 20+ years of working on and bearing with this disorder? I have learned that our eyes and our minds cannot be trusted to tell us what we look like to others. We are often too self-critical, and judge ourselves in ways we would never judge others. I have learned that trauma and stress can trigger a deep-seeded need for control. And if that control, of our own lives, our grades, our families and our work does not come, we turn to vices that do not serve us. So what is the takeaway from this post? Love your body for all it does for you. Seek help for you or your child if they are showing signs of using food as a control mechanism. Consider medication if the problem gets too big to be controlled by meditation, therapy, or other holistic modalities (like cold plunging and breath-work). And remind the people you love that social media, and media in general are not reality. There are filters and airbrushing, ways to pose, and clothes that make people look unnaturally thin. Skinny and thin should never be the goal. Strong and happy are where I now aim to be. My deep hope is that these words will reach at least one person out there who needs to be reminded of these truths. We are all in this together. Flawed, wonderful, broken and healing. Peace to you all my friends.