I look forward to these nights, once a week, when I get him all to myself. Sometimes we simply grab a quick bite and go to the grocery store, no little hands or voices begging for the latest flashy toy or candy displayed in the isle. If it’s warm outside, we will make the most of our evening by enjoying the outdoors with a hike, side-by-side ride, kayak, or a simple walk. Most nights, apathetic from the day to day grind of parenting three little ones, we end up running errands. Popping from store to store, picking up odds and ends, things that are needed, but haven’t become an emergency, demanding we carve out time immediately.
This time with just my husband and I is soul building, nourishing my mind and heart. It’s the tranquil island that offers respite and rejuvenation, connection and calm as the busyness of raising three young kids, working a big job, and day to day stressors swirl around us. Going out and strengthening our relationship and forming bonds with new friends feeds my recovering Type A, rarely relaxed brain allowing for a brief break before diving back into life’s demands. Prioritizing each other and our social relationships relieves building pressure and reminds us we are multidimensional beings, not just worker bees taking care of our kids and home.
While date nights serve to sustain me, they are also scary for me, the fear derived from being out of my usual environment, eating different foods, knowing that these activities invite the monster. They usher him in, his oppressive presence escorted in by my daring to step outside my superstitious, carefully crafted box.
We needed a few supplements, my online fitness coach and local OBGYN had recommended several. My pill bottle drawer, a graveyard of dashed hopes and misspent lackluster results. I was exhausted and hesitant to buy more supplements, feeling as though I was sinking good money after bad. The piece I was missing was education. I needed someone to teach me how and when to properly use the supplements, someone to manage my expectations on the outcome of their use.
My husband thwarted my weary excuse to avoid spending more money and we popped in anyway. Dane Anderson (@FitnessDane) was working the store that evening. If you are a local, you know that the folks into Complete Nutrition are friendly, a great conversation, and extremely knowledgeable. I mentioned to him that I was working with an online fitness coach who had me lifting heavy several times a week, pushing cardio, and had cut my calories quite low. That I wasn’t sleeping and was feeling sicker and sicker by the day. Dane’s face said it all. He looked at me, looked at my husband. If there was ever a case where someone was biting their tongue so hard it would bleed, this was it. Blood may as well have been dripping furiously from his pinched mouth.
In search of help, desperate for guidance, I prodded him. He was hesitant, being respectful of my commitment with my online fitness coach. And then it happened. He knew. Without me divulging my entire story, he somehow knew what I’d been dealing with. He listed my struggles as if he’d been living in my mind, in my misery. As he catalogued my issues, tears sprang to my eyes. This was it. He was it. The evidence of the numerous hours, courses, and experience he had dedicated to his craft hung thickly in the air as he explained why my path was never going to lead me to the healthy outcome I was seeking.
My husband and I left the store, me in tears of shock and overwhelm. Silence clung to us as we drove to the next store, both of us digesting the torrent of information Dane had just shared. I broke the quiet, moved by emotion, by the exhilarating feeling of knowing I had found my answer.
The Michon of a few years ago desperately needed the guidance of a supportive resource, but wasn’t aware of the growing functional nutritional and health industry where experts are trained to approach our bodies holistically, seeking to identify a root cause for the maladies our bodies develop. What’s more, I didn’t know how badly I needed the support and guidance of an expert. I was insistent my high protein, low carb, low calorie, heavy cardio approach would eventually render the results I needed; insistent that I knew how to achieve my goals. Instead, I spent years punishing a sick body, convinced I could beat it into submission, rather than allowing it the rest and respect it always deserved. Reaching out for help can be one of the most rewarding and yet vulnerable things we do. Admitting we don’t have all the answers is daunting, but if your way isn’t working, isn’t letting you heal, why not explore alternate approaches?
Here's to loving ourselves enough to let unfamiliar, possibly unconventional methodologies, serve our healing journeys.