As published in Project HEAL Syd. Newsletter.

Most days, I talk with people who have experienced disordered eating. One of my favourite things in the world is having these conversations and working with someone to craft a way of being in the world which liberates them from ill serving self-concepts. Leading up to the festive season I have noticed a turn in these conversations. Sometimes a sense of a looming dread clouds over our dialogue as fears beguile a catastrophisation of the very time of year everyone else seems most joyful. The fears are intrusive, antagonistic and aggressive – and they live spitefully under the umbrella of one of the mother-fears -> judgement.

While this fear is certainly not a theme exclusive to the festive season, there is something about the to-do talk, the rushing and pushing, the reconnection to extended family – the growing shadow of a season focused on food, in the background of a culture obsessed with the body-image implications of a season by the name of Summer – which stokes the smouldering dread.

When I talk with people about what this Christmas fear in the cloak of judgement entails, they tell me of the assumptions, misunderstandings, pressures and misconceptions that their family, colleagues, friends and neighbours will harbour because their habits with food don’t fit with a norm. Or they do fit with a perceived norm but they have a diagnostic label which doesn’t – and people will judge that discrepancy.
Or their body looks too different.
Or their body looks too normal.
Or they will be the unwilling reciprocal of relative’s advice on nutrition.
Or mental health. Or stress management. Or superannuation.

That they will have expectations, disappointments, and misconceptions scapegoated on them. That those surrounding them will say too much. Or say too little. Or be too ‘normal’ and not acknowledge the situation.
If there was one consistent theme that underpinned all the fears bespoke to the individual I would say it is of not being seen. Of being seen instead as an illness, or a difficult person or a weak person – or someone who isn’t going through much at all. But not being seen as a being bigger than those hurts.

And the pre-emptive response of that seemingly inevitable hurt is to fear.

When I talk with people experiencing disordered eating I notice how often they are not thinking of themselves. This group of people are generally highly empathic, considerate, kind and conscious of their impact on others. They may spend a lot of time, (suggestibly an unhelpful percentage of time) considering the world from others’ perspectives, and considering themselves from others perspectives.

When it comes to supporting and understanding another’s struggles they tend to be extensively compassionate, non-judgemental and kind. Some of my favourite people have had disordered eating. I have found these sensitively souled individuals, even when disordered eating has left their lives, make for the best of friends, colleagues and people to generally surround yourself with because of these traits. But they are not always so adept in applying these skills to themselves – especially when disordered eating and the true meaning of what that represents is active.

I posed to someone I was talking to recently that she consider her relationship with herself as if she was truly in a relationship with another person. We have a lot of focus on romantic relationships and even friendships in our culture. But the person who is really truly going to be there for your whole life is you.
Most of us will outlive those who were there at the beginning and leave before the people that are there at the end. And there will be overlaps of time where there may be few or no people we have heartfelt connections to – perhaps great spans of time.

As young people, especially women, we are asked about the sort of person we might like to marry, and what sort of wedding we might like to have. But I for one was never asked about my relationship with myself. Imagine instead of asking young women if they have a boyfriend yet, we were asking if they had connected with themselves yet. If instead of asking what they’d like in an ideal guy, we asked what qualities they wanted to cultivate to emotionally support themselves through life. If instead of focusing on a wedding day we focused on the day when we found a non-negotiable and unconditional bond with ourselves. If we were coming from this place – how would the festive season feel different?

Imagine if you married yourself, whether or not you also married someone else. Imagine if you took the vows as seriously to stand by and support your spouse, in your relationship with yourself. In good times and in bad, for better for worse. And if you were your own partner, entering these Christmassy events brimming with the possibility of judgement, how would you support her?

If they worried they had eaten something too quickly, had too much or were eating differently to others – would you tell them they are right and they are weird and everyone is going to go home and talk about them?

Or would you say something like ‘honey, it doesn’t matter. I love you. I am with you. Do whatever you need to do for you – when we go home it’s just you and me and nothing else matters.’ It isn’t just about being our own friend, but our own wife. How could there be a relationship that was more intimate than being in someone’s skin, sharing every breath, hearing every thought. This is more than friendship, it is union.

If we were in union with ourselves, unconditionally supporting ourselves and willing to standby ourselves wherever others’ opinions fell – Christmastime starts to feel different. It becomes less about feeling put on a podium to be judged, ridiculed and shamed. It becomes more about showing off your gorgeous partner, your soulmate self.

It becomes you shining out from self-acceptance in the safety of the most secure relationship you’ll ever have. And that is a season to be joyful about, that brings joy and kindness to the world – and that, to me, is the treasure of this time of year.