Preach it, Sister

If it looks, smells and sounds like religion in any form I can guarantee you I will not be interested in it. A “practice,” on the other hand, is something I can embrace. The word practice says something powerful to me. It says I’m still learning, growing, and evolving in mind and body. I take full credit and full responsibility for my massive screw-ups as well as my tiny triumphs. I am thankful and grateful to everything and everyone. But an unbending belief in something – in anything – is a thing I reject.

People can get incredibly devout and preachy on subjects they feel passionate about. To me this often feels patronizing and at times derogatory. Rigidity and the thought that there’s only one way to do something has never worked for me. Let me tell you how right I am: I’m vegan. I love God. I eat paleo. I do crossfit! I do yoga. Sugar is evil. Do you see my beard? White food is evil. I bike 50 miles every day at 5:00AM. I love God. I am God. 

I know one thing pretty well: myself. And I can get preachy, too. I’m going to preach about getting your damn mammograms every year from age 40 on. I’m going to preach about being your own patient advocate and learning about your diagnosis. I’m going to preach about taking as much responsibility in your treatment as your doctor does. I’m going to preach about politics staying the hell out of of my body. I’m going to preach about our fucked up health care system in the United States. I’m going to preach about women’s body image. Recovery is my new practice.

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