I’ve heard it takes a village, but I’ve only reached out to a few humans for help with pregnancy questions. Many of my friends are already parents, so they’ve been quick to check in, carefully offer (much needed) advice, and email us lists of baby things they’ll be happy to hand over to us when we’re ready for them. (First, our house has to not look like this.) Our parents have been amazing in the ways that only (grand) parents can be. My email lists keep prompting me to check in with the January 2018 birth “clubs”, and I keep skipping that link.
It’s not that I don’t think I need a village. It’s that I’m careful in cultivating them.
I do a LOT of things on the internet.
I write about a lot of my life in the mysterious voids of the web, hoping the story will reach someone who needs it in that moment. I’m not an over-sharer on Instagram, but I’m not hiding much (on my podcast or personal accounts, but I can’t speak for Banana’s highlight reel, that’s all her). I characteristically keep it real, because at this point, I can’t imagine where I’d be without that approach.
Many moons ago I read some quote that suggested our secrets drive us into the ground. The things we (vehemently) hide are the things we actually want to share the most. (“Write the book you want to read,” is another one that seems appropriate here.) Without that sharing, maybe we feel a little less human. Or, at the very least, a lot less like ourselves. Maybe those secrets, stories, and experiences whittle away at our sense of identity until they’ve molded us into someone we never wanted to be. So, I thought, I’ll share them, instead. I’ll see what happens then.
(Now) I’m not uncomfortable with sharing these things.
But of course, selfishly, this helps me too. Writing out my stories, reflecting, and inserting some light self-deprecating humor is my continued therapy. It allows me to shape the way the story shapes me. It takes the power away from stories that once hovered over me, suggesting I should be scared of judgment.
The most significant part of this is that it connects me to you.
A village of women, and some men, who get it. Who have felt something akin to these disordered eating, dietitian-identity-crisis, runner-in-training, and now human-growing experiences. Then, we all feel a little less alone.
I don’t know what kind of parenting village I need, yet. I like the idea of a birth club, but am trying to protect myself from the black hole of internet parenting judgment. I do want to connect with fellow parents-to-be that are outside of my close friend circle, because, I don’t know, you can never have too many close friends right? I don’t know what I DON’T KNOW about parenting, or pregnancy, or what life will be like in the so-called fourth trimester.
I can’t tell exactly what I’ll need, yet. But I do know that the ways I’ve satisfied those needs for other aspects of my life haven’t failed me yet. So I’ll keep sharing, being real with you, and hoping that in my story is something that makes yours feel okay (and vice versa).
In addition to that, I want to continue cultivating communities that may help your needs.
Do you want a virtual (private) community of women who are (or want to be) recovering from disordered eating patterns–as an active woman, a dietitian, or both?
Maybe you need a running coach (and team) who gets it, or a nutrition coach who can help you along the way, or a dietitian mentor/friend/voice in your earbuds every Friday who has BEEN THERE. Maybe you just need to hear from a fellow human who has been through something similar, and here we are. Maybe you don’t need a 1:1 coach. Or, maybe you need more than that. (I think we all do, at some point.) Maybe you don’t know what you need yet, but you’re willing to try a few things to see how they feel.
Fill out this short form and let me know what you need, and if (maybe) I can help. Whatever your answers, I have a few people who are ready to join you. We’ll see where it goes, together.