Jaime: Finding Freedom, Woo-Woo!
Growing up, I don't quite remember being referenced as beautiful but I had aspirations.
My dad has this sweet thing he always said to my mom and I, when we looked nice. “You’re a woo-woo girl”. As I got older, I asked him where that came from. He said it was me.
As a small child I said I wanted to be a “woo-woo girl”. When asked what I meant I said I wanted people to think I was pretty and say “woo-woo” at me to let me know they thought so.
No one was prettier than my mom when I was a little girl. I remember thinking, if I can look like her, I will have achieved true beauty. It wouldn’t be until years later, when I began to struggle, that it would be revealed that we indeed shared DNA, physically yes but just as much mentally and emotionally. We have very similar builds, when she disparaged her body, I internalized she was disparaging mine. That couldn’t be further from the truth, she too struggled with disordered eating
No one was giving me a “woo-woo”, but I heard I was “funny”, “outgoing” or “talkative”.
In high school, at 14, I went on a mission trip with a group of 4 girls from church. We attended high school together. Each was stylish, popular, athletic and beautiful. And there was me. The “funny girl with the good personality”. At the time, I didn’t realize the beauty and value of both comments.
For that week I was one of them but I looked different.
I grew up in a bigger body. I wore jr. ‘s plus sizes or women’s clothing. I was limited to styles not always stylish or flattering for a teen girl.
I don’t recall comparison to others, until that trip. It was an awakening. I played up the “funny girl” to mask growing insecurities. Though I knew I looked different from my peers I was, for the most part, unbothered by it.
I developed my first crush at 16, this would prove a profound experience through a remark the young man made about me. The comment was geared towards my body. It devalued me. Devastated me. Changed me intrinsically. It wasn’t meant in malice but impacted me as if it were.
There soon after that I was intent on shrinking my body by various means to thwart negative references to my size.. It began with “him” and then would seem to perpetuate every other “him” that came along.
I met my ex-husband at 19 and married my final semester in college at 21. I had known him, informally for years, growing up in the same community.
How was I to fit in this family of extremely attractive people? I imagined more negativity, that he could find a more suitable girlfriend.
This precipitated increased behaviors to downsize.
I wanted to be noticed, not just for personality, humor or how much I talked but that others would consider me a “woo-woo girl”.
I am grateful to say, though it might seem ironic, finding out, in 2000 at 23 I was pregnant with our first child, a son, gave me years of normalcy (or as much as a disordered eating mind can have). This was achieved in my second pregnancy, with a daughter, as well just 14 months later.
Both kids got a woo-woo gene!
My son’s diagnosis of autism as a toddler and raising him and his sister occupied me from self loathing. I was fortunate to have a career that allowed me to be ever present at home and their schools. They were my world.
After nearly 17 years of marriage, in 2016 I divorced. I became a part-time mom physically, with 50/50 custody. I no longer saw my children daily. I lost part of my purpose…my world.
Their teen years, I was physically there, but barely as they watched me teeter on a medical disaster.
A few months after the divorce I began dating.
With this came the insecurities that lay dormant from my high school days. On top of that, the first relationship I had, post-divorce, broke my heart.
Instead of seeking much needed professional help I used disordered eating to cope with life.
In 2018 I found a therapist experienced in eating disorders. However, I didn’t think an eating disorder was my “main issue”. I explained it as unresolved emotional distress from childhood, teen years and post-divorce.
By 2019, I had dated but nothing serious. Reviews were mixed on my appearance. Some thought I looked great; others were gravely concerned at frailty. This fueled the insecurities, and restriction became my coping mechanism. By Thanksgiving they had every right to be, I was transported to an emergency room. I was seen immediately.
I was hallucinating, slurred speech and other symptoms that pointed to a multitude of health issues. They performed tests to determine if I had a stroke, a brain tumor, multiple sclerosis, or other medical emergency.
Diagnosis…food restriction. My electrolytes were imbalanced, blood sugar dangerously low and I was experiencing anorexic psychosis. Who knew…all side effects of trying to be accepted and loved…by way of not nourishing myself properly.
One might think this would have been rock bottom. Wrong!
In 2021, a ghost from my past, an old boyfriend reappeared leaving high and dry for a second time. My mental health could take NO MORE rejection. I had rejected myself.
My parents tried tough love, my daughter high school graduate at this time) just tried to love and support me, and friends just stopped asking me if I was okay, or I downplayed my mental and physical state.I didn’t want to burden others with my “sob story”, I was ashamed I couldn’t snap out of it, as I had masked all those years. I was a mess of a mess. The messiest.
I recall saying to my therapist, it wasn’t an eating disorder, it was trauma I needed to address. She said, “Jaime, we cannot address those issues with an unfed mind”. I was trying to go at it bass ackwards. She told me she could no longer help me, and I was in desperate need of a higher level of care and handed me a lavender piece of paper that contained the name of two eating disorder treatment facilities
These were inpatient facilities – hospitalization. I scoffed initially and gave every excuse one could imagine as to why I “couldn’t” go. When there was NO good reason, I couldn’t go.
I told her I would think about it, talk to my daughter (she and her brother were my priority) and go from there.
I would be the only one giving up on me, not others. I didn’t want my daughter or my therapist to think I was beyond help. I’ll do it for them…and now I am so thankful I did it for me too! People pleasing served me well in this instance.
I knew what my girl would say…” You must go”. And that’s exactly what she said. And…I did.
There I was, a woman mid-40’s wasting away. My outward appearance was a glimpse into the pain I felt on the inside. EMPTY. but I did want them to see my pain. I wore it…but it was nothing close to a badge of honor.
A statement was made to me the DAY before I went into care. I was exiting a local retailer, and a complete stranger said to me, “You look so good, you really take care of yourself”.
You talk about a mind f***! See…. I don’t look “that bad”. In fact, I must look great at this size, that would be unattainable to me if I didn’t restrict myself, because a stranger said so!
Thankfully, the remark didn’t deter me, I knew I was in dire need of hospitalization.
I reside in a state with no eating disorder treatment centers. None! I had to travel about 4.5 hours to receive the treatment that would save my life.
I was one of the oldest there. Thankfully there was another mother whose circumstances differed from mine, but the result of how we coped was the same. The eating disorder absolutely didn’t discriminate based on any demographic.
What have I learned from choosing recovery?
That I am loved. I have an amazing support system. I cannot address emotional strife without being physically fed. Restricting only restricted my life. No one benefited when I was starved in every facet.
Though I have found more recovery since leaving the facility, being fed in a safe place returned me back to life with support in place to thrive.
The hardest thing about choosing treatment was that my precious daughter was beginning college and didn’t get to move her into her dorm her freshman year. She moved in 3 days after I arrived in treatment. The easiest thing about choosing recovery? I have been present to move my daughter in and out of college every semester since, including taking her to Canada to study abroad her junior year. I will proudly and with health watch her graduate in May 2025!
My son’s autism has been a blessing in many areas of life, and this was no different as he didn’t fully grasp my absence. However, in 2024 he did say, “Do you eat pizza now, mom?” To which I said, “Of course! Why?”. He said, “There’s a coupon for a family meal and we can eat as a family now”. I’m not crying, you’re crying!
I keep the little lavender piece of paper, given to me when I was referred to inpatient treatment, in my car. It serves as a reminder to choose recovery every day, I don’t want to be away from this life I really love.
Choosing treatment and choosing recovery has given me the life back…the freedom…I hadn’t felt since I was an imaginative little girl who knew who embraced herself before the world tried to tell her differently.
I am proudly a funny, outgoing and talkative girl and all of the traits that make me up, the least of which is my appearance, and that’s what makes me a “woo-woo girl”!
Jaime D.
Jaime is proud mom to amazing kids, Beau and Brynna. She’s a Western Kentucky University graduate and has worked in public health for 25 years. She values time with her children, family and friends and laughter is often required. She enjoys writing, meeting new people, traveling and NCAA sports.