Defining Wellness

It happened to me. The thing that we all worry about at some point in our lives. The thing that we can’t do anything to avoid or change. The thing that, in this economy, has been occurring way too often. I lost my job.

Due to Pennsylvania’s proposed 50 percent budget cut to tobacco cessation and prevention funding, my position as a tobacco control health educator has been eliminated.

It’s so interesting that this happens now, because over the past few months, many of you have written to me to express how awesome my career sounds based on my descriptions of it, or to ask me how I got into this field, or to ask for suggestions on what college major to pursue in order to follow a similar path, or just to say, “I hope I can find a career that makes me as happy as you are.”

Each e-mail and comment that I received from you gave me the same feelings I used to get when my elementary school teachers put gold stars on my tests and homework assignments: satisfaction, pride, and motivation to keep working hard.

I loved getting these e-mails and comments from you because, yes, I love my job. It’s the best job I’ve ever had. Each day, I have the opportunity to help someone quit smoking, or to share my own stories about struggling with and overcoming addiction, or to empower a child to speak up against tobacco use, or to organize and implement programs that help individuals believe they can overcome their battles with addiction. It’s a career that is rewarding on a daily basis, and it came after several careers that weren’t so rewarding. I’ve had jobs that have made me miserable, that have kept me awake with anxiety at night, that have stripped me of my enthusiasm and energy. So I can relate each time that one of you contacts me with aspirations of getting out of your miserable job or just finding something about which you’re more passionate.

So . . . am I completely devasted? Depressed? Anxiety-ridden? When I first found out that my position MIGHT be cut, that was the worst. I didn’t know which projects to work on, because I knew they all might be a waste of time. I didn’t know if I should start pursuing other jobs. I was anxious because I just didn’t know what was going to become of my career. That was the worst part. I spent a day feeling an uncomfortable mixture of emotions. I felt angry – angry at our legislators for choosing to cut tobacco prevention and cessation funds while NEGLECTING to tax non-cigarette tobacco products (we’re the only state in the U.S. that doesn’t tax these products). I felt unimportant — like my job wasn’t viewed as important enough to be saved. I felt depressed — I was sad that I might be losing one of the best jobs I’ve ever had. I felt disappointed that I couldn’t impact more lives. I felt empty and anxious because I knew I had to begin the job search again. And after my day of grumpiness, I decided to pick up the eggshells so my husband didn’t have to keep walking on them. Thanks for being patient, Carter.

The next day, Carter and I took a nice long walk with our dog, and while we walked out the stress, we talked it out, too. It may have been one of the most healing walks of my life — do you know that feeling? Your endorphins kick in, your thoughts get flowing, and you just feel like you’re “in the zone” and everything makes sense.

I realized that, while I absolutely love my job, I have other passions, some of which are even more personally salient to me than tobacco addiction. I’ve never smoked a cigarette in my life, and while I can certainly relate to and sympathize with smokers’ addictions, I cannot tell them that I’ve stood in their shoes, that I’ve been exactly where they’ve been, or that I can completely understand what they are going through. What I can do is help them based on my own similar experiences. But you know whose shoes I have been in? I’ve tread the path of the anorexic, the binge eater, and whatever other terms you want to assign to the person struggling with food, control and body image. I choose to view this closing door as a doorway leading to another path and an opportunity for me to pursue my life’s purpose: to help individuals recover from eating disorders and body image dysmorphia.

Since college, I’ve dreamed of helping others overcoming their eating disorders. Of course, I had it a little backwards. I didn’t realize that I had to be well first. I thought that maybe by helping others I’d help myself . . . but I knew in my heart that wasn’t really the case and that, in doing so, I could actually harm other people.

I suffered with my eating disorder since the 7th grade. I went through years of torment, from myself, my peers, even some family members. I dieted and obsessed until I felt like an emotionally exhausted, walking encyclopedia of food facts. I binged away my deprivation and anxiety. I lived a life that hinged on food and exercise, and I isolated myself from family, friends and so many of life’s wonderful experiences. I never believed I could put an end to my self-imposed suffering. But I did. And now all that suffering finally has purpose. No one should have to suffer from an eating disorder for a single day, let alone 15 years. I am determined to free others from their chains and spread the message that beauty is who you are, not what you look like or what you do for a living.

I’ve spent a lot of time over the past few days thinking about all of the opportunities that await me now that I am no longer a tobacco control educator. I can help others recover from their eating disorders . . . and I have about a bazillion ideas in my head about how to do that. I’m so energized by the possibilities! I can continue to pursue modeling and work with more photographers. I love that I can finally stand in front of a camera and be proud of who I am. With the extra time on my hands, I may even pursue some side career opportunities in modeling. And on that note — check out the latest photos that Jeremy sent to me!

I’m considering doing some volunteer work at an elementary school just because I have this unexplained urge to work with children and foster their creativity. I can finally start the book I’ve wanted to write since I was a little girl. I can go back to school . . . for counseling, for nutrition, for education . . . wherever my heart leads me. While I’m between jobs, I can spend some extra time with my family, friends and pets. I can help my brother and his fiancee plan their wedding and get ready for their baby to arrive! There are so many great opportunities that can come out of this unexpected change.

And you know what else is amazing? I wouldn’t go back and change a thing. My career as a tobacco health educator helped me to grow in more ways than I could have possibly imagined. I led a coalition of tobacco control professionals. I worked with an incredibly kind and talented group of individuals in my office. My supervisor became a personal role model for me — she showed me what healthy eating looks like, she willingly discussed my eating disorder with me, and she encouraged me when I began to see a dietitian. I inspired people to quit tobacco, or at least think about it. I designed and implemented a youth essay contest and empowered students to speak up against tobacco use. I was on the radio! I learned more about politics than I ever wanted to learn, but I’m glad I finally understand what all the fuss is about. This career, though short-lived, changed me for the better, and I will always be grateful for that.

Now, it’s time to move on, enjoy the free time bestowed upon me by my temporary unemployment, and start pursuing my many other dreams! Remember . . . there’s always another dream to dream up. Each blessed moment you are awake is an opportunity to pursue those dreams and see how many just might come true.

Filed under: Body Image & Self-Image, Career Exploration, Eating Disorder Recovery | Tagged: dream career, eating disorder, job search, unemployment