I was recently contacted by Melissa at the Penguin Publishing group to receive a copy of the book Insatiable: A Young Mother’s Struggle with Anorexia written by Erica Rivera. The book tells the gripping story of her battle with anorexia and though we don’t share the same disorder, I could relate to so many of her struggles. Erica is a courageous and compelling author for sharing the guts of her journey and I am honored to have her write a guest post here. Erica, thank you for sharing a part of your story here, from one recovering yogini to another, Namaste.

~~~~~~~~~~

“What brought you to yoga?” my new guru, Aaron, asks at the start of our first private session.

Aaron looks like the stereotypical yogi: short and slim, but solid. His hair is excusably unkempt, as though he’d just dismounted from a handstand. A single line of facial hair divides his chin in half and gold hoops dangle in each ear lobe.

“This might sound odd,” I say.  “But I have an inexplicable urge to get very quiet.”

Though I’m doubtful that headstands can heal, that striking Warrior Pose can make me stronger, or that twisting myself into a pretzel can release years of psychological buildup, I’m ready to give yoga a try if it means maintaining the peaceful state of mind I discovered while on a recent retreat to Taos, New Mexico.

“So why not take a class?” he asks.

“I don’t like group activities,” I reply, imagining my forehead branded with the warning:  Does not play well with others.

What I don’t say is that I’m embarrassed by my body.  After a two-year battle with anorexia, I’m regaining weight and still uncomfortable with my softer shape.  I feel unsteady and awkward, as though I were wearing a foam sheath over my once skeletal frame.

Aaron starts with the basics by demonstrating a belly breath.  His stomach expands, his ribs protrude and his chest lifts.  He looks like a Robin preparing to mate.

“Can you see that?” he asks.

I stare at him, aghast, and nod.

“Now you try,” he says.

I do.  The rush of air is like an elixir that extinguishes the unrelenting ache inside.  I feel so full of breath I think I might burst.  No wonder I’ve felt so stressed—my body’s been in a state of oxygen deprivation!

Aaron and I continue with a series of exercises reminiscent of grade-school games:  we rub palms together and feel the tingling current of energy between them.  We fold into Child’s Pose; blood rushes to my brain, my ears fill with pressure, and light shimmers behind my eyelids.  We stand in Tree Pose, facing one another.  My skin flushes when our eyes meet.

“I have to look at your body,” Aaron says.  “For positioning purposes.  Are you ok with that?”

“Yes,” I say.  No, I think.  My tank-top is riding up, my stretch marks are shining in the sunlight, and the strings of my yellow thong are rising out of my pants like the golden arches of McDonald’s.

But the longer I balance, the more balanced I feel.  I become the tree:  tall, confident, centered, and completely calm.

Aaron demonstrates Bridge pose.  I try to imitate by levitating my pelvis and tightening my glutes, but I don’t feel a thing.

“I’m going to adjust you,” Aaron says.  He flips my hands over, taps my lower back up and presses my knees together.

“Do you feel that?” he asks.

My body snaps into place.  Heat rushes through me like a flame.  My back stretches and my entire torso expands like a balloon.

“Oh, yeah…” I moan.  I take three massive, cleansing breaths.

“Like brushing your teeth, isn’t it?”

~

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” my step-father says one night after dinner.  “The past two weeks you’ve looked…” he searches for the right word as he gives me a hard shoulder squeeze.  “Better.”

“That’s weird,” I say.  “Because I feel worse.”

Later I reflect on my response and revise it in my mind.  No, I don’t feel worse; I feel more.  More sadness, yes, but a sharper sense of joy, too.  After a stint on the mat, I experience every sensation with a novel, delicious depth.  I feel lighter and tighter.  Free.

~

Almost three years have passed since that first lesson in asana.  Now I practice yoga daily, both in group classes and on my own.  Even on my busiest days, I make sure to strike a pose even if it’s only five minutes before bed.  Yoga time is sacred; an opportunity to check in with my body, release emotional toxicity, and invite positive energy into my life.  My yoga practice helped me make peace with my figure, taught me how to be mindful in every moment and made me a more patient parent to my two daughters.

Thanks to yoga, I finally feel at “om” in my body.

~

Erica Rivera is the author of Insatiable: A Young Mother’s Struggle with Anorexia, now available in bookstores everywhere!  Visit her website at http://www.ericarivera.net for reviews, interview videos, and author blog.

Christie is a Holistic Health and Wellness Coach specializing in changing your relationship with food and your body. To get free updates on intuitive eating, holistic health and new recipes subscribe by email or by RSS feed!

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