Kate Spade’s tragic suicide is a stark reminder that even women who appear to have it all can be suffering, often in invisible ways.
As a wealthy and successful designer who built her career on all-American designer handbags, Kate Spade is not the type of person one would imagine could do something like this. And that’s a problem. Society has an ideal image of what things “should” look like.
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The last two and a half years have been an emotional roller coaster. I moved to New York City, got sober, lost both of my grandmothers, and my mother was sick. I spent much of that time in denial about my depression. I subconsciously chose to stay busy in order to avoid processing the emotions that came along with those big life changes. I lived in “go mode”. Often prioritizing others’ needs. The more time I spent helping others, the less time I had to deal with my own emotions. While there’s nothing wrong with helping people, there’s something wrong with why I was so eager to help. Continue reading “Living with Agitated Depression”
The photo above is me passed out in the grass at 3am. I was 27 years old. While I don’t remember anything about the celebrations from that night, I remember telling myself that I “needed to celebrate” being back home after a 3 day weekend in LA. I blacked out completely. I somehow ended up in my front yard. I vaguely remember my roommates picking me up and carrying me to my bed. We laughed about it the next morning. One of my roommates sent me this photo and I posted it on Facebook because being a party girl was, like, soooooo cute. I continued to drink this way for two more years.
Some would argue that being a party girl (or boy) is never cute and I’m sure they have valid reasons for that. I would argue that - in moderation - there’s nothing wrong with having a phase in your life where you have a few too many drinks on the regular, act silly with your friends, and hook up with someone you barely know… as long as you’re safe about it. Yes, you read that correctly. This sober woman supports others getting drunk, safely. My toxic relationship with alcohol has nothing to do with other people’s relationship with alcohol.
My body was clearly giving me signs that the party girl lifestyle wasn’t for me anymore. These are some of the red flags I ignored for years, and wish I hadn’t:
Back in my fitness instructor days, my Instagram account proudly endorsed the #eatclean movement to the point of annoyance. I, like many other fitness professionals, thought that this hashtag would inspire people to make nutritious food choices. While it may have inspired some, I’m finally realizing that using phrases like “eat clean” could be down right insensitive and borderline damaging.
In case you missed my last post, I recently participated in Scare Your Soul, a challenge that encourages you to live outside of your comfort zone for 3 days. On day 1 & 2, I tackled my body image issues. I wanted day 3 to remain on the same body positivity path, but I was stumped as to how to go about it. My roomie / editor, Alisson, suggested that my third and final challenge should be eating processed foods for a day, every meal. I cringed and said “Nope. No way. There’s no way I can do that”. Then I realized that’s exactly what I needed to do. She encouraged me to do this because she thinks I’ve become a pretentious food snob (this is how we talk to each other, we’re very close) who only eats artisanal, organic, hipster foods. She suggested that maybe eating like I used to will remind me where I came from, and get me back in touch with my roots.
Feedback taken.
Challenge accepted. Let’s eat dirty.
