I went to the gym this morning for the first time in three days. And it was the first run I’ve done in five days. The difference being I just bought brand new running shoes. My friends advice of course. I’ve been putting it off because it seemed like a needless expense. I already have shoes, why would I need to spend $100 on another pair? But she continued to gently suggest that my shoes were what was causing my knee pain, my hip pain. That if I were to get shoes for running that I would be able to run easily, in comfort. After having to take a few days off and being in brutal pain when I walked, I finally caved. I bought a pair yesterday. And today, it felt like I was running on clouds.
I chalked my pain up to getting old, just not being able to do it. Telling myself I would have to fight through it. Convincing myself the problem was me. Not knowing how to look for a solution. Not understanding that the problem could be solved so easily. This is why having a friend is helpful. Especially a friend who isn’t pushy or gets frustrated. One that puts out suggestions and is ok if you take them or if you don’t. This friend is also the only one who stayed after my mental breakdown. She is the one that first suggested that maybe my medication could be the problem. She’s like the mom I never had. The sister I needed. The only friend I could ever ask for. Just the little nudge, the little help, the little advice that allows me to move forward.
So as we were finishing up our run today I made sure to thank her profusely. To let her know that I appreciate her patience with me, that I know I can be hard-headed. That sometimes it takes some time for me to take suggestions. I made sure to let her know how much these shoes have helped me. I feel like I can take on the world with these on my feet. Maybe I should train for a marathon. Am I getting ahead of myself already? I just need her to know that her kindness is not going unnoticed. It is something I am not used to. It’s why it’s so hard for me to allow in.
You see when I was a kid, or when I was growing up as a teenager, every suggestion or anything said about me or to me was to tear me down. To let me know what I was doing wrong. Or to hurt me. A good example is the eating disorder I developed by constantly being told how fat I was. Always being critiqued by what I ate, or how much of it. Or when I would show interest in something I would get made fun of. I was made to feel bad about myself. I have to unlearn my instant response of being defensive. Knowing that not everyone is trying to hurt me. Some people really do have my best interest at heart.
This simple example shows me that it takes me a little longer than most to take care of myself. To listen to a friend. To help myself when I need it. I’m still learning. But at least I’m not still where I’ve been.
The Girl Without A Face 