the fundamentals of portia

the fundamentals of portia:

1. SPIRITUALITY. engaging in gratitude is a daily practice of my spirituality. prayer, connection. i could seek spirituality through a community event, reading spiritual texts, having deep conversations, internal reflection, embodiment, and more. conversations with the universe and God in whatever form is most accessible.

2. ART. life is art. not always paint on a canvas, or a melody to a song, but just a vibrance to life. breath, movement, self-expression, the use of spoken word, laughter, written word. to me, everything that makes life worth living can be defined as art.

3. NATURE. nothing has quite felt like home like being emerged in nature. whether i’m sitting, running, dancing, nature was my first genuine support system. my field trips growing up consisted of fairy hunting and playing capture the flag in forrest green mansions. when i didn’t know where to go, nature held me, as it still does today.

4. COMMUNITY. friends, family, relationships. sometimes, it takes a village. the power of collective effervescence will always leave me in awe.

5. CHANGE. the only constant is change. switching things up constantly reminds me that i am capable of adapting. this is the place that breeds self trust.

one thing after the other has forced me to take stock. the main way for me to stay grounded amidst the chaos is coming back home to me. i have recently observed thought patterns that are foreign and overwhelming, anger that doesn’t cease, and a general irritability with life.

i recognize that progress is not linear, and it can be in these moments where we feel the most lost, that we find our ways. in the long run, i recognize that it’s a few months. even if it were to be a few years i felt like this i recognize it’s still a short time in the grand scheme of life. but sometimes it can feel all consuming and frankly terrifying.

when life gets overwhelming, i tend to search externally for inspiration and validation. the opposite of anxiety is trust. trusting the universe, trusting myself, and trusting that i am exactly where i’m supposed to be. bringing myself home to my basics is where i find life.

trust yourself. take stock - what are the things that make you you? when do you feel motivated? how can you invite more of this into your life? daily gratitude goes a long way.

recovery

this holiday season, i am feeling immense gratitude for recovery and the access to resources i have that i know others may not. the past year has been extremely challenging facing my eating disorder and choosing recovery. every day it is a choice, and i hope that sharing any part of my journey helps others. in honor of this gratitude, here are some lessons from my past 8 months in eating disorder therapy.

1. It’s never about the food.

   This one seems obvious, but when you’re in the moment it’s difficult not to think it’s about the food. While eating disorders vary a lot but it never really is about the food. What does control mean to us? How does food/controlling food make us feel? What does losing weight/gaining weight mean to us and how does this impact our view of food? Leading into…

2. Food neutrality: the practice of recognizing that food is not a tool to look a certain way

   For me, I fully believe in this, but reprogramming my brain to believe it is hard hard hard. Naturally- we live in a society that promotes controlling food and body. And when I’ve personally seen that controlling food does change my body it's hard to fully believe it. I have to go back to thinking about how I felt at different phases of my body. At my smallest I was ridden with anxiety and the fear of losing control. I was very unreliable to the people around me. Choosing recovery is for me, but it is equally for my loved ones.

3. There are different types of hunger, not just survival.

   Honoring all of these, without judgment is a practice. Whether that’s eye/nose hunger (walking down Main Street at Disney and smelling the butter popcorn), stomach hunger (physical hunger), cellular (the “too hungry” feeling), mind (hunger from restriction) or heart hunger (emotional hunger - maybe we were given a certain food as a child to comfort us), we deserve to honor that hunger. All hunger serves a purpose.

4. Controlling food was a survival tactic. 

   It served as something for me to fixate on to avoid feeling hard feelings or confronting my emotions. I am understanding more that I didn’t learn healthy emotional regulation. Discovering these needs and finding ways to meet them is hard work. My eating disorder developed as a way to protect myself.

5. Overexercising is a form of purging. 

   I love working out. Truly, I love feeling strong and pushing my limits. I am recently starting to examine my relationship with exercise. I used to get extreme anxiety when I missed a workout, but where I’m at in recovery, I still need to take a step back sometimes. It’s easy for me to push and push and push, but it’s important to stay grounded in the reason I’m choosing to workout in the first place. Especially as a coach, I want to ensure that I am promoting healthy movement and practices.

6. God.

   This isn’t something that has been pushed on me in therapy at all, rather something I have found myself. Truly recognizing that I can let go and trust God with so much that I try to control is a huge ease. My relationship with God changes, but one thing that remains constant is that I can trust a higher power 

7. Journaling and reflecting what my experience was and what I may have been feeling before and after a binge.

   Giving myself permission to engage and reflect gives grace to recognizing this is a coping mechanism. By allowing the behavior to engage, it’s likely you may not even want to engage as you are staying present and inviting room to give love to behavior that has been adopted to protect yourself.

8. You cannot hate yourself into a person you love. 

   Always lead with love. I have kept myself in a cycle that keeps me from feeling too much - one way or the other. I had a hard time feeling safe in joy or love because I was scared of it being temporary.  How can I truly enjoy food? What would that look like for me? How can I work towards enjoying more in my day to day life? When you notice the urge, how can you pause and nurture your needs in a way that is loving?

the lessons are constant, the reflections are insightful, and the growth is happening. slowly but surely, i am healing. progress is not linear. some days feel a lot harder than others. and that’s ok.

grateful for my family, friends, loved ones, mentors, coworkers, community, that keeps me close to myself when i feel lost.

dance with anger

i recently told my therapist that i don’t do well expressing my anger. she flipped that back on me quickly and said that i do - i just express it all on myself.

this sparked a kind of realization. i grew up around anger. seeing it expressed towards another person, often without any resolution and a threat of leaving, formed my relationship with it. i became terrified of someone being angry at me, in fear that it could result in conflict or abandonment. so, i internalized anger and geared it all toward myself before another person could.

taking a step back, i realized how much anger has driven my behavior. anger towards my body has resulted in working out or restricting, anger towards my productivity has caused decision paralysis and anxious spirals, anger towards my messiness has caused deep cleaning late at night.

i would never express anger to someone else the way i do myself. recognizing this made me put in perspective where i have been with my mental health. the lower my confidence in myself and my abilities is, the more likely it is for anger to make way.

i am in the process of learning how to juggle anger with positive emotions. i am guilty of shutting down when i feel like someone is angry at me or anxiously working to try and make everything “ok.”

anger is natural. one of my amazing directors in college taught me that “anger is disappointed love.” it is a secondary emotion. when i get to a spot of being so angry at myself, another or the world, the only thing that brings me back is finding where the love felt lost.

the election has driven an uproar of anger through me. anxious, sleepless, i am discovering how to find that love in the fight. the only thing that truly keeps me grounded is reminding myself that this anger is a result of feeling a loss of love. yes, fight with anger, protest with anger, yell with anger, but lead with love. as long as that stays at the forefront i think we can do anything.

you cannot hate yourself into a person you love. i cannot hate myself into a person i love. lead with love, towards yourself and others.

joy is scary

joy is scary.

i grew up in an environment where happiness was a fleeting feeling. there was no security around how long a joyful moment would last - scared of the feeling being temporary, i retreated into ambivalence. on top of my home environment being preoccupied with conflict and tension, i found myself avoidant of all feelings.

i remember exact moments i decided that certain traits were “too much” and shut off parts of myself in attempts to be more palatable. this meant avoiding things that would result in big emotions. i think this is how i found myself in theater, because it was a safe space for me to sit in emotions, under the veil of “acting,”

i am learning how to feel safe while experiencing big emotions. i have known that sadness, anger and fear are all things that i try to avoid but it was only recently i realized that joy has been one of those emotions. how often have i truly let myself rejoice? in love, in spontaneity, in work? when was the last time i truly enjoyed the food i was eating? or enjoyed my own company? i’m guilty of being preoccupied by my mind racing before sitting in joy with the company of someone else.

playing, letting go of control, and being present are all common practices of mine - but allowing that joy to fully exist in my body is hard for me. i struggle allowing myself to genuinely feel my positive emotions in fear that i have to return to the other side of the emotion spectrum. allowing joy means allowing sadness. or anger. or fear. all of which i know exist largely in my body. neutralizing the labels or judgements around these emotions is the best way i’ve navigated this (i.e. happy as “good,” sad as “bad",” and so forth). being able to identify myself as the observer of these emotions is how i started this practice.

big feelings are scary. but they are beautiful. my perfectionism has told me that there are good or bad ways of feeling emotions - “right” or “wrong.” this is a lie! there are just feelings! i’m learning to give love and care to all emotions.

i’ve been actively calling in joy and practicing facing my fears. i have challenged the idea that big emotions are too much for others and myself. your loved ones want you to feel fully, express your emotions and see you live. while this is still hard for me to fully believe, i know that the right people and environments help me believe it. your feelings are valid, all of them.

zero proof

alcohol. man oh man.

remember that whole right or wrong thing, good or bad? there’s no right answer?

for me, i felt conflicted about the role alcohol served in my life for a long time. from it being a “cure” to relentless anxiety in high school and early college, to having had a restrictive eating disorder, to choosing recovery, alcohol served as a toxic voice in my head. a constant question of good or bad.

i stopped drinking almost entirely in my gap year just because i was working full time in my hometown away from friends. over time i learned that drinking itself was never something i craved, rather the feeling of belonging in a social setting and the symptoms of reduced anxiety (until the next day where it would be multiple times worse). when i committed to UT i was terrified of “not fitting in” again amongst a social circle. alongside starting recovery, i felt conflicted. was not going out a way to “restrict” or was i listening to my body?

when i drank, i always wanted to push it, feeling temporarily relieved of the chatter in my mind. every time i went out, i was learning a new limit/boundary. i remember one time showing up to a hike and meditation (that i was looking forward to for weeks) so hungover and anxious, i felt entirely out of my body. soon after, i went out again and found myself in an unsafe situation that pushed me into my first stretch of sobriety. that lasted a while, mostly due to lack of any interest in going out, but soon felt inclined to have a glass of wine for special occasions or bond with old friends over a drink.

as a chronic people pleaser, boundaries have been a constant battle for me. learning self-love and self-respect has come with learning boundaries. not drinking felt like a boundary that was so hard to put up and keep up. it wasn’t until i was around the right people and had the right support where i felt truly at ease maintaining this boundary.

i recently hit a year sober at the beginning of this month. the activities i enjoy and the life i lead has no need for alcohol. i have learned so much about myself over the course of this year, and sobriety has kept me close to my values.

life’s not black and white. no right and wrong, good or bad? right? for me, sobriety fuels my life journey. sobriety feels like the right thing to me. that’s what i know to be true.

colors

sitting in class, my hands shake waiting to be numbered off into groups. “portia, 2.” okay, who else will be 2? the girls laughing in the corner are numbered off as “3 and 4.” the kid making his table laugh is numbered off into 5, and i see him make eye contact with his best friend across the room who is also placed in 5. the groups grow, filled with huge personalities and colorful clothes. the 2’s gather to the front right side of the room. we stay quiet. i grab the sheet of paper and pen to be the writer of the group. we work quietly as other groups are running around teasing and having fun. group 3 is yellow filled with the bubbly dancers. group 5 is green, radiating laughter by the windows. i see group 4 drawing horses and fairies on the corners of their paper, i see the color pink. i sit in silence in my group. a cloud of grey enveloping us.

similar to the lunch tables in middle school, i would compartmentalize groups into colors. the girls with all vera bradley lunch totes was purple. the table with yeti lunchboxes were outdoorsy explorers, green. this way of thinking was my way of helping me perceive my environment. i’ve been a chronic overthinker my whole life. sensitive to my environments, i wanted to keep the peace and “do good.” placing colors on ideas, people, energies (partially an adhd tactic), was a way for me to digest my surroundings. red is math, blue is science, yellow is for her, grey is for me.

i know that not everybody can relate to this narrative. however, part of discovering myself and reconstructing my views on my reality, i know that this was one way of survival. i looked to my immediate surroundings to give me meaning and define me. i wanted so bad to be at the table with the girls laughing, so that i could feel like i was funny. being alongside the girls doodling, i could be a creative. without this, i would find myself feeling stuck in grey without an idea of what color i bring to a group.

rediscovering myself has shown me that i am not only one color. my colors change and morph based on my mood, my state of being. with this, i am learning that i can radiate any color i want into a room. instead of viewing it as “what color do i fit into?” i create the question “what color do i bring?”

i’ve found it important to surround ourselves with people who compliment those colors, who help us see how we glow. there are a lot of grey areas in life. leaning into the discomfort of the unknown, allowing room for growth, for mistakes, room to learn- that’s where we can find our meaning. when we are patient, with time, the grey clouds part, and our meaning becomes more clear. we are not meant to be defined by others, but to compliment and contrast our surroundings. it’s scary waiting for the clouds to part, but by allowing space and time, you can discover the best sunsets, filled with some of life’s prettiest colors.

the butterfly effect

Springtime is here: the sides of the roads speckled in bluebonnets and evening primroses, inviting the landing and dismount of gentle insects- butterflies gracefully navigating the space around us, finding home in the beauty of it all.

Amidst a time in my life of so much uncertainty, decision making has felt scary, overwhelming and frankly something I’ve wanted to avoid. Whether it be what I’m going to have for lunch or where I’m going to live in a couple months, my perfectionism has been prominently distracting me from the bigger picture. However, it’s been things as small as a butterfly fluttering by that brings me back into focus.

The butterfly effect is a theory of connectedness. The idea that every little move we make has a greater effect on the bigger picture. In springtime, we are energetically inspired to move forward, make change and grow. This includes trimming out weeds that may be working against you and planting seeds that grow with you. As scary as decision making can be sometimes, every decision we make with the right intention has the outcome to help you move forward.

From the second we wake up, we have the power to live our best day. Taking care of ourselves so we can take care of the world around us. For me, this can mean making the decision to wake up 10 minutes early to dedicate to gratitude and visualization. This can help me so I don’t rush into my day with stressors and bring those into my workplace, my relationships, or my interactions with strangers. That small decision to make time for yourself, to cultivate your own joy, can domino into easier decision making throughout the day, working out of love rather than going through the motions.

The butterflies serve as a reminder that we are all connected. An easy reminder to be in the body and in the moment, even for a brief second. The universe does not have a fixed agenda working against you, even if it feels that way at times. All we are in charge of in a time of uncertainty is our next decision, and making decisions that work for you. Find your reminders of love, connectedness, wholeness: In a butterfly, in a breath, in a moment. They are all around us.

inner pizza

feb 15

These past couple months have been a time of reflection, slowing down and listening. Before I take too much credit, this was kind of forced on me by my externals.

The last months of 2023 were filled with work, school, events, holidays, graduations, things that kept me busy. Having been preoccupied with the external, I let a lot of internal feelings and thoughts go by unattended. After a week or so of the chaos calming and with the help of a healing sound bath, they kind of hit me like a rock.

I knew there would be a lot of unknowns going into the new year that I was nervous about, but I didn’t know how much fear was truly there. Through different forms of emotional releases I have discovered a negative internal monologue existing in the background. When things externally were providing joy, this monologue could exist quietly. But with lack of external stimulation, the perfectionism and the need for control get loud.

My perfectionism is the voice is my head that was created by “not good enough”s and “what if”s. Approaching this voice with love and tenderness is what I have found healing the past couple of weeks.

Yesterday, while throwing a frozen pizza in the oven, the instructions read “set the timer and while you wait, find your inner pizza.” Funny how this punny instruction reminded me that finding peace comes in the in between. This is the time to lean into the discomfort. Removing the external forces, this space invites room to question, grow and reflect.

Control the controllable. You can set the timer to the recommended time, you can put all the toppings on, but once the pizza is in the oven, it’s out of your control. It’s about trusting that if it does burn, you can always order pizza in.

ready, set, action

It’s kind of funny to me that the past two months the voice that I was so excited to share on here in October has fallen silent, but the voice in my mind has grown so loud.

My journal has been filled more over the past 64 days than the past year. And yet, I’ve felt like I have nothing valuable to share. My Squarespace account is filled with unposted drafts, so unsure of what I could have to say worth reading. No new events, no new milestones, no trips, no external forces of meaning. Life has fallen still. It’s funny when nothing happens we are forced to stop and ask ourselves: what do I want to have happen?

A wave of motivation came today and it made me realize just how little I’ve felt it recently. I have been without a sense of direction, engaging in avoidance practices pushing away inevitable emotions. I’ve felt outside of my body and my anxiety has been at a place that it hasn’t in years. Today I felt relieved of the burden of this anxiety. Riding this motivation created from a meaningful conversation with someone who believes in me, I wanted to take action.

(Side note- It’s important to take stock of what your valuable traits are. What are your skills? What do you love to do? What are traits that are unique to you? Once you know this, it’s important to engage in activities that celebrate this. The skill may be quick learner- pick up a new instrument and learn some chords. The skill may be deep thinker- pick up a book that challenges your beliefs and write about it. These little things may serve as an internal source of motivation when external sources are feeling dim.)

This voice is my voice. Whether it be on a public platform or in a private journal, my authenticity comes from being honest with myself and others. There is no perfect way to approach uncertainty, trust me, I’ve tried finding it. But action is always better than indecision. I’m posting a draft from last month that I never believed was good enough to share in an attempt to serve as a metaphor for something greater. It’s about consistently showing up and taking action. No expectations, just faith.

a year

A whole year is difficult to put into a single journal entry, a one and a half minute reel or even a few resolutions. Made up of four seasons, loads of family discourse and recourse, celebrations of friends, the start of a job, the end of an education, old faces gone with new faces prominent: A year is comprised of so many different experiences. One reflection will not be able to do it justice.

However, it’s pretty crazy to think about time in the span of years. In 2022, I was lost, unhappy in my education, my environment, my body and my mind. I was freshly recovering from an eating disorder, and my life revolved around trying to find meaning outside of food. The year before in 2021, I had taken control of my life when I had dropped out of college in January. However, I lost that sense of control to my anxiety and eating disorder. This consumed the majority of my year. I was robbed of creativity due to mental struggles and my life was centered around trying to find my breath. In 2020, I heard my inner voice for the first time. I knew I was unhappy at my first college and lost my passion for performing. COVID-19 had given me the opportunity to be still in my body, inviting remembrance of what brought me joy and who I am.

This voice is what guides me today. I believe 2023 was the first year I truly felt happy. Off of any medications and birth control, I was re-introduced to myself. I visited the place I last knew the little girl unapologetically full of life, love and joy. This trip to Oregon reminded me of who I was, and who I am.

This remembrance is a daily practice, and trust me I fall off pretty easily. There were many times this year I deeply struggled with self-doubt, my nagging eating disorder, anxiety and depression. It was the first year, however, that I can confidently say that I was experiencing these symptoms rather than being a product of these disorders.

The deepest lesson I learned this past year is that perfectionism is the voice in my head that is fueled by my fear. By actively facing my fears and trying new things, I am able to pick away at that voice and prove it wrong. This year I challenged myself to actively seek discomfort, and from plunging in the ice bath, to running long distances, to texting a number that was left for me at work, I was consistently shown that the things we avoid can actually be pretty great.

Over the past 30 or so days, I turned 23, I graduated, and I welcomed in a new year. I have no plans for this upcoming year, and boy I’d say that’s pretty uncomfortable. All I can do is remind myself that I have survived this discomfort before and I can do it again. Who’s to say what is in store for 2024, all I can do is keep making steps towards my future. So, cheers to the new seasons of 2024.