Talk About the Uncomfortable

Freshmen orientation has been a fabulous experience for me. Not only have I learned a lot about my new school, but I've made several friends and feel much, much more prepared to begin my new adventure. At Denver School of the Arts, freshmen orientation is instead called 9th Grade Academy. Within 9th Grade Academy, students essentially rotate through four different "classes," in which they learn about study skills, technological resources, the campus, college readiness, and social and emotional well-being. There were certainly some highlights during this past week's orientation. I loved the tour of the school, and it was a great refresher to go over tried and true study habits. I've meet such fantastic people, all of whom have been welcoming and kind. And I've had the opportunity to engage in quite a challenging conversation.

It was the second or third day of 9th Grade Academy, and my peers and I were sitting criss-cross-applesauce in a large circle. Our first rotation of the day was the social and emotional well-being class with Mrs. Kitchen - the time spent in that room was, on the whole, rather enjoyable. We all took the 16 Personalities quiz (my result was The Advocate) and discussed stress and coping mechanisms. On this particular day, however, the topic was not to be taken lightly. We had delved into the deep subject of mental illness.

As we sat there, in our perfect little circle, Mrs. Kitchen discussed depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts. She went so far as to tell us a very personal story about her own daughter's emotional struggles; to me, it was very clear that this was tough for her to talk about, and yet she recognized the importance of it. The importance of sharing something that was a dark point in her daughter's life, in Mrs. Kitchen's life, and in their entire community's lives. I was proud to listen to it. I was proud to bear witness to this tale of heart wrenching sorrow and fear, climaxing into her daughter's being missing, and resolving in recovery and help. It was truly a tale of overcoming the difficulties of mental illness by reaching out and not turning a blind eye to the harsh realities of life.

Then Mrs. Kitchen asked if anyone in the room had ever had an experience like this, and whether or not they would be willing to share.

I sat there in great uncertainty. In my case, the answer was yes. But I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to share my story with a classroom full of people I had just met. I didn't want them to judge me. I didn't want anyone to think I was just trying to get attention. And I didn't want to scare any potential friends away with the truth of my struggles. But then I looked at Mrs. Kitchen; I'm not sure if she realized it or not, but it was clear that she desperately wanted someone to connect with her. She had just shared her own terribly sad story, and wanted us to understand. She wanted our class to be honest and straightforward, as she had just been. I recognized that this incredible woman had just put something so personal out into the world in the hopes of helping her students. She had been so brave.

I raised my hand.

It was an extremely uncomfortable seven minutes, sitting there, and discussing my struggles with disordered eating. Although I was never medically diagnosed with an eating disorder, I undoubtedly would have been if not for my denial. I talked, my throat clenching up, sweating, red in the face, about how I had never consumed more than 500 calories a day. About how I had been defensive, and snapped at anyone who suggested that I needed help. I don't remember the finer details of the conversation; it was inexplicably hard to be the new kid, opening up to all of these unfamiliar faces, about a disease that had consumed every aspect of my life. But it was so crucial. It was vital that I told these people that I exercised as a means of purging food. It was important that I talked about my low self-esteem and obliterated body image. It was essential that I conveyed that, with a BMI of 15.1 and the Female Athlete Triad, I still didn't feel good enough. I still didn't feel in complete control.

Afterward, I was shocked that I had raised my hand, stunned that I had just put all of that information into the open, astonished that I had been willing to spell out my imperfections and struggles to people I barely knew. Later, however, I began to feel proud of myself, in same way that I had been proud of Mrs. Kitchen as she told us, in a choked up voice, about her daughter's experience with emotional difficulties. 

It is of paramount importance that we talk about the uncomfortable things in our lives. Eating disorders, mental illness, and suicide should never be taboo. Bullying, sexual identity, disabilities, racism, sexism, and drugs should not be topics we keep in the dark. By ignoring these inevitable aspects of life, we deny ourselves the ability to learn, grow, and understand. We make it so that it is difficult to relate to one other, and even more difficult to be authentic and genuine to ourselves. It is key that people address the elephants in the room, and refrain from hushing up at the mention of a fraught topic. Only with discussion will we make change. Only with discussion can we inspire and help one another overcome our individual obstacles. Only with discussion will we begin to comprehend what is going on, both within ourselves and in our world. Silence can be powerful, but it has never helped anyone to break down barriers.

Mrs. Kitchen knew that, and her openness assisted me in sharing my own story. I hope that by being honest about my journey that I can help others on their road to recovery. I hope that, by talking about something when it would be less complicated to stay silent, I can help others realize that they are special, fantastic, worth everything, and enough. We need to have conversations, my friends. Great things never came from comfort zones.

"Communicate. Even when it's uncomfortable or uneasy. One of the best ways to heal is simply by getting everything out..." - A Random Quote I Found on Pinterest

"It's good to do uncomfortable things. It's weight training for life." - Anne Lamott

Nobody is perfect - don't be afraid to speak your own flawed truth. It might just save someone's life.

- Maya

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Photo by Morgan Sessions on Unsplash, Photo by Robert Collins on Unsplash,
Photo by Drop the Label Movement on Unsplash, Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash