Ah London…the city that first captured my heart back in university; and that drew me back in from the moment I touched down in Gatwick a few days ago.
The City’s streets are filled with memories I cannot shake.
It was during my time here that I learned the dangers of flavoured vodka and Pimms; went to my first British wedding (if only I knew then the criticality of your hat selection); and found the freedom of dancing without fear of being groped at my first Gay club.
London always made me bolder, more fearless. I tried speed dating, traveled alone – from Brighton & Blackpool to Europe, Pakistan and Asia – and moved 3 times. I left my shoes in a bar, got lost countless times, tried my hand at travel on the night bus; and resigned without a second’s thought or job to go to.
I also learned how to make a decent cuppa, made life long friends and even fell in love.
For these reasons and many more, this city will always pull at my heartstrings.
As I walked along the streets earlier this week, I started thinking. Lots of my favorite things still abound here – Prêt a Manger, pubs, Boots, Monsoon, Accessorize, the theatre and the parks, and the accent (oh yes…the accent). And still, something seemed different.
Me.
Of course, one would argue that, logically, it is a given that I am different than who I was at any other time I have been in London. I am older, for one, and have continued to be shaped by life’s experiences. But the transformation goes much deeper.
When I moved to London almost 20 years ago, I was « bone-deep » in my first ever experience with Anorexia. I was the thinnest and the most controlling I have ever been – tracking every calorie eaten, every pence spent and filling up every minute of the day with activities to avoid having to deal with my health and loneliness.
While I now wish I had sought out help then, I didn’t. I wore kids clothing, fainted in the produce section of the grocery store and worked from 7-9 most days, but I never saw a doctor or therapist. In fact, it would be another 16 years before I started any sort of treatment for my eating disorder. If only I had known that the odds of recovery are much higher if you seek treatment early on. Oh well…
So, here is one major difference between new-to-London Christina and who I am today: I am more knowledgeable, with many additional tools in my arsenal against my inner struggles.
I am also more at peace. I no longer have to be « on » all the time, running from thing to thing, distracting myself from my feelings and emotions. I can actually sit in a park and simply enjoy the view, and I can walk in the street without wanting to scream if I get stuck behind a slow-strolling tourist.
And I am more free. I now know the joy of being able to pretty much go to any restaurant and enjoy a meal. My life is no longer dictated by my eating habits. No! Instead, it is bound by the picky eating of my children – just as the universe intended.
And I am free from the secrets and lies that go hand-in-hand with being ashamed and protective of my eating disorder.
And because I am different, so too is my beloved London. Its colours are more vibrant, its sounds are more delightful and its food is more flavourful.
So bring on more of your wonders London Town. I finally « see » you.
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