20 Years...

 Where were you when the world changed?

20 years ago today, a horrible act of terrorism occurred. While there are major debates on who caused it, whether it was foreign or domestic, everyone can agree on that fact: it was terrorism. 2,977 lives were lost, and so many more have been lost since, due to this day in the past. Three buildings were hit, with one more targeted, which would have caused more casualties. The days that followed were full of fear, but also of humanity. From that point forward, nothing was the same.

I remember where I was. I was a freshman in high school, and had just walked in to English. My teacher, like so many others, told us that something terrible had happened, and we would not be doing a lesson. We all sat down, and watched the towers fall, on repeat. One of my friends was panicked... his uncle worked in one of the towers. This was before cell phones were prevalent, so we had no way of knowing if he went to work that day. I do not recall if I was ever told. 

I remember saying that everything would be fine, it was okay. But it wasn't. Only 18 people were found alive, and cleanup of the site took 9 months.  We went to war, and heard the phrase "weapons of mass destruction" more times that I can count. This event is now in history books, and we lived through it. 

I will say, something special also happened in the days that followed. Humanity became more compassionate in the aftermath, even for a small period of time. People supported each other, in numerous ways. Donating, volunteering, even listening to each other. One notable occurrence: Steve Bushemi, a former firefighter, went to assist at ground zero. A moment of silence was observed everywhere in the country. And everyone held their breath, hoping for miracles.

To this day, we are still getting new information, from people, and videos that have never been seen. We also have a new generation speaking out on the aftermath: the people who were born on that fateful day. Their whole lives, they have known something was unique about them, and now, at 20 years old, they are speaking about how it felt.

For me, it is hard to remember a time before this. I have memories, but in them, there was no before and after: it was always this way. I think because I was at such a formative age, it skewed the narrative in my head. I had never seen the towers in person, and I do not know the difference if they show it now in movies. In my mind, the before skyline and the after skyline are two separate places. It's better that way... I would break down trying to reconcile the two. 

I do plan on visiting the memorials one day; not just of the towers, but of Flight 93 in Shanksville, where the passengers fought back against the hijackers. The plan seemed to be to crash into either the White House or the Capitol building. However, they were forced to crash in Pennsylvania, due to this huge act of bravery. They lost their lives, but in turn, saved countless others.

Life goes on, but we never forget the actions of this day, and the ones that followed. It affected us all so deeply, that we will never fully heal.

Body Shaming and the Aftershock **TW: eating disorders and rude comments**

 I have been body shamed since I was 8. My family thought it was so funny to make comments about how I must be anorexic, or throwing up after meals. 

I WAS EIGHT.

I spent all of my teen years struggling to gain weight. I even sat down with my Nutrition teacher in Freshman year to ask her, how do I gain weight?? She recommended Ensure Plus, which, while not adding many pounds, made it so that I didn't lose any more. It was insanely hard, because I also walked a mile to and from school every day, and had a fast as heck metabolism.

When I got pregnant with my first child, I was 104 pounds. At the end I was 118, and looked like a tick. I ate everything I could, and still my baby took the weight from my arms and legs. My doctors pushed me to eat more, anything I wanted, just gain the weight!! Two days after giving birth, I weighed myself... 98 pounds. My pre-pregnancy clothes were hanging off of me. It took a while to get back to 104. 

Twenty years after I first heard the word "anorexic", I heard the reverse. I had been working out throughout my 20's, and was in great shape, and weighed 125. I was happy. Then, I got pregnant with my second child, and it all changed. I gained around 40 pounds with her, and heard about it daily. I also had gestational diabetes, was put on a restrictive diet, and was sick constantly. Somehow, when she came out, I barely lost anything. Rude child to the core: take it back kid!

I was a stay at home mom for 2 years, in which time I changed into stick figure with boobs. To this day, I still think I am struggling to lose weight because all of it is in my chest. When I went back to work, I packed on the pounds, and I am now sitting in the 160 range. No matter what I do, I cannot get past that weight. I eat better, exercise, stand/walk more. Nothing works. For 4 years I have tried.

Meanwhile I hear that I'm fat... boyfriends, doctors, workers. And some days, I really see it, and hate myself. I know I did nothing wrong. Bodies change. But in my mind I need to be thinner. Not too thin, because then I'll hear the other side of it again. 

BUT.

I have kids now. Kids who look to me, who take in all that I say and do. And it molds them.

I cried when my (then) 7 year old daughter, the spitting image of me, came home and started only eating salads, and weighing herself 4 times a day. Because she was told that was healthy, and that being thinner was good. She has been body shamed and told to be modest (ie cover every inch of skin) from that moment. I try so hard to teach her that there is nothing wrong with her, but it still lives with her, in the form of anorexia. I fight to get her to eat even 3 bites of food at meals sometimes. And every time it seems like we make progress, someone says something and away we go again.

I pray my youngest never has to deal with this. She is so self assured, but that can change in an instant. I have always tried to be body-positive in front of my children, even when I am struggling. I do not hide my body from them, and in turn they each have some semblance of that as well. I try to teach the benefits of food and water and taking care of your body, but sometimes that falls on deaf ears.

The other day, I showed my boyfriend this super-cute crop top, and told him I could NEVER wear that. He asked why not, and my first response was, because I'm too fat, and my boobs are too big, and no one wants to see that. But, he does. My kids do. And, deep inside I do too.

I'm going to wear the fun stuff. I'm going to enjoy myself. In spite of everyone who tells me I can't.