Updated: Dec 2, 2022
“What are you most worried about?” my coworker, Diane, was standing by my side.
I'd worn a path walking from my chair to the table in the back of the room six times, continuously returning empty-handed and anxious. It was day three of all-day meetings, mid-morning. I was tired and hungry; there was more than an hour until lunch.
I stared down at the table nervously, not answering. Diane put her hand on my arm and said, “I know,” in a calming tone.
My shoulders went down, and I took a deep breath. “Sugar,” I said.
Our options weren’t great, but we talked it over, and I walked away with a snack that carried me through to lunch. I have been feeling vulnerable since the launch of our book, FULL: Overcoming our Eating Disorders to Fully Live. And, if you’ve read it, you know that vulnerability activates eating disorder thoughts for me. The irony is stark.
Today, someone who "gets it" noticed me struggling and helped. The distraction of hunger dissipated as I sat through the following presentation feeling grateful and humbled by what just happened.
Community matters. Vulnerability is a price that is well worth paying.