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A couple of months ago I was lucky to have spent an evening with an amazing scholar. Cathy Caruth is a professor at Cornell University whom specializes in trauma studies. (Please check out her books, they are amazing. You really do learn how to see trauma in different lights.) My friend and I spent hours and hours talking about trauma that evening with her and other peers. One of the things that has stuck with me the most when talking about trauma is learning about all the different triggers a person might have and why. A person might be triggered by the smell of eggs in the morning, the sound of laughter, or even looking at a store. Even though you might at the moment think it's "silly" for a person to be triggered by any of those things, the fact of the matter is, it isn't. You don't know why a person is triggered by X, Y, Z. Maybe that person's mom had a heart attack while eating eggs in the morning, and the smell triggers that traumatic event in her memory. Maybe someone saw a friend for the last time at a certain place. You never know. So please, respect other people's triggers. Even when you don't understand them. Be kind.
What are some triggers you have that other people don't understand?
My latest film for @uproxx is now on YouTube, (YouTube link in my bio) telling @slang's incredible story on an issue that affects every one of us. It is important for us to continue speaking out against the mental health stigma on whatever platform available to us. #letstalk
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I used to be obsessed with thigh gaps. I used to be obsessed with fitting into the smallest clothes that you could buy at Abercrombie and Fitch. I remember hearing the popular girls in high school talk about what size of jeans they wore, and if I wasn’t that small, I would swear to myself that I wouldn’t eat so that I could, too. I would study these girls, I would try to find out what foods they ate or didn’t eat, take note of what they wore, how they acted, and how they did their makeup. I was so obsessed with being anyone but me. I started hating my body at a very young age. I hated how my calves jiggled if I held them up just right, and would have a melt down if my hand suddenly couldn't fit easily around my wrist. I was in an awful place of self loathing.
The thoughts that would go through my head at this age (16/17/18) disgust me now. Loving yourself is not an easy task, and I had to go through a lot of shit before realizing that I deserved to invest in myself and that I deserved to be happy with my body. 25 years was exactly how long it took me to love myself, and I’m not too sure how long I could have gone on hating myself if I had not taken that life changing decision to hire a coach and build my physique just how I wanted it to be. I took action, without knowing the end result- and I still look back on that moment in awe and am proud. No more wishing, waiting, or hoping for the right time, I did it, and I’m so thankful I was brave enough to take a step into finally achieving my dream body.
-- Today, I am thankful for my body. I am thankful that it is strong enough to get me through the most grueling workouts. I am thankful that I am mostly healed from my asthma, that my body is capable of running at speeds I never thought possible, and that the thought of muscle growth excites me, rather than scares me. Today I am thankful to have a body that allows me to walk, love, hold, hug, feel, stretch, and experience things that many others may not. Today I am thankful that I can look at my body in the mirror and smile – rather than pick apart everything that might be wrong with me. Today I am thankful to finally understand the need to fuel my body in the rig