Vida Vegan Con or Bust!
“Lacy, are you gonna quit writing and talking and scheming and dreaming?!” you might ask.
“Hellllllll NAH!” I will respond.
There’s so much about being a person who makes an impact via the World Wide Web that’s tricky. There’s trolls, of course- those miserable little dorks that will talk shit on ladies who like themselves, and women looking to build muscle. There are long hours typing when I could be running, dancing, cooking, or -shoot- just hanging the fuck out. There’s vulnerability and there’s backlash- the idea that people won’t like what I have to say and will be cruel as a result. I’ve experienced all of these things, some a little bit and some a lot. I accept them as part of my job, and I am relatively comfortable with the facts. There’s one thing that I am not so comfortable with, though, and that thing is this:
Sometimes, being a person who communicates via social media gives me the impression that if I am not producing content, I simply don’t exist.
How’s that for some shit I should probably take to a therapist?
If I’m honest, I know it is highly unlikely that any other person on Earth would feel this way about me just because I skipped a week or two of posting on my blog or gabbing on my podcast. But the notion swirls around my head sometimes, knocking against the walls of my brain. I think of it because I am an achiever, of course, but also because I have found a home in this blog space, and I’ve also found a community in my readers. I worry a little silence will produce the impression that I have abandoned my post, and the fact is I would simply never want to do that.
BUT ALAS, today I realized I need not bother with these thoughts too much.
Because sometimes the culmination of idea incubation is field work, right? I can talk about body confidence and high self esteem until I am literally blue in the face via the internet, but what good is it if I can’t stand up in front of an audience and say: “what’s up, humans? Here’s why I think its important to love yourself.”
This week I am speaking at Vida Vegan Con, and in a lot of ways I feel this is the perfect culmination of a season of deep work and exploration. First I started this little space, and more people saw my words than I ever imagined. Then I started a podcast and let my actual voice invade a smattering of ears. Now I am (more and more) standing in front of groups large and small to talk about body image and self-esteem, because its fucking important and because not enough people do it. It feels like kind of a big deal to know that people give a shit about what I have to say.
(It occurs to me that not only am I extremely lucky to have these opportunities, but also that I am ridiculously stoked that I have survived the total self-obliteration that was my eating disorder enough to be in a position to speak with any authority.)
I am reminded as I sit here:
When I was so small I could have withered away I hated myself, but the thought of gaining weight made me so terrified that I assumed I would never be strong enough to do it.
When I got into recovery, I thought the changes in my body would take away my will to move through the process.
When I started lifting weights and my body changed drastically, I thought I would forever remain ashamed to be seen and to take up space.
When I started writing, I thought I would never share it.
I have proven myself wrong time and time again, almost without noticing. I don’t say this to brag, but instead to note that if someone that came from where I came from could do this, I believe almost anyone can. Even you! Especially you!
The depth of possibility when you treat yourself like your life is of value continues to grow, and while I remain a bit quiet here, you can rest assured that there is so much more to say on this topic, and that I am going to come here to say it.
Because sometimes a little space helps me formulate my thoughts in ways that make sense for a wider audience.
And because even when I am away I am thinking of you all!
I will see you soon! (At VIDA VEGAN CON maybe?! I wanna high five y’all until my arm is sore from the sheer volume of psyched!) If you’re there, please come and say hi and tell me about your life.