In its caption, she documented my progress over the past year I have spent working with her, and announced that I am in prep for a bikini competition.
Let me tell you the truth. I was terrified to tell people that I had decided to prep for a bodybuilding show. I have always weighed more than the average female of my stature. Furthermore, I have never been "lean". The only time that I have weighed under 120 pounds at 5'2" was when I experienced severe orthorexic symptoms over two years ago, limiting myself to a small variety of fruits and vegetables, and a single Quest bar per day, totaling no more than 1000 calories. I would also run between 5-10 miles a day and was petrified of lifting weights past bicep curls, dumbbell overhead presses, and medicine ball crunches, for fear of looking larger.
Then, in August of 2013, I was involved in an accident with an ATV. I sustained countless multisystemic injuries, including a lacerated liver and spleen, biting my bottom lip completely open, fracturing some vertebrae, puncturing a lung, and cracking some ribs. Needless to say, I was a hot mess. When I got out of the hospital, my mental state began to further spiral out of control. I would "watch what I eat" and participate in intermittent fasting while in recovery from all the aforementioned injuries and was terrified of gaining weight even though I was on strict order from the doctor to consume at least 2000-2500 calories a day to heal. Every day, I would go to school until classes ended at around 2pm. I would not eat until I got home, and would open the fridge under the pretense of "eating clean", and would eat some vegetables and fruit and a portion of a Quest bar, and usually a granola bar as well. That is where it all spiraled out of control.
No, it wasn't cake or cookies, or ice cream, or jars of peanut butter. It was boxes of granola bars. Particularly, there is a box of granola bars in a medium lime green color from Trader Joe's that I believe comes in both 6s and 12s that has a chocolate bottom, as well as boxes of 12s and 24s of Quaker "no sugar, 90 calorie" granola bars. I would eat entire boxes of these bars in one sitting because I was absolutely famished from not eating until 2pm while trying to heal from the accident.
Yes, I admit that this was stupid. Fuck, I had grade 3 lacerations and my bottom lip was unrecognizable from my biting it completely open when the ATV came down on me, and I needed to have three vials of blood drawn from me every few hours in the hospital. Being "skinny" should absolutely not have been on my list of priorities. THAT is exactly how fucked up I was and how deep-seated my disordered eating was.
Do I regret this? Yes. I cannot sit here with a straight face and say that I don't regret this: fucking up my body, caring about my physique during a time of complete health depletion. I regret all of it. Furthermore, I was attending a rigorous doctoral level graduate program that I absolutely detested. Controlling what, how, and how much I ate was the only outlet from which I garnered and established control. To relinquish control, and, in my eyes, admit defeat, by eating to heal and nourish my body, was unacceptable at that time.
With the support of my boyfriend, an friend from Instagram (who is still one of my closest friends to date) who I won't name because her story is her own business, and a lot of literature, I was able to push past this period in my life. Don't ask me how. I really don't know how. But I do know that these two people, and a lot of reading about disordered eating, body image, and empowerment, were the only constants, and for them I will be forever grateful.
Around my birthday in 2014, I realized that I was on the right path, but needed a helping hand, a little Jiminy Cricket, if you will, with restoring my body and getting back to exercising as a healthy endeavor as opposed to a means of punishment. I researched extensively and was looking for someone who had credentials in both nutrition and personal training. That is when I found Emilia and began working with her. We worked together for around seven months and I fell absolutely in love with heavy lifting. In October of 2014, I took a short hiatus from working with her to prepare for a powerlifting meet. I programmed for myself (both macros and training) and within my 12 week prep, I lost 3 pounds and put 35 pounds on my bench press. Sadly, the injuries from my accident and some natural deformities of my hip joints from when I was born prevented me from training at full capacity.
However, powerlifting taught me that it is okay - actually, it's not ok - it is absolutely necessary to eat in order to lift heavy. I ate. I ate a lot. I was losing 0.25lb a week and eating 240-250 grams of carbs a day. I analyzed my form. I tracked my macros. I was fully accountable for what I was doing because I was doing it on my own. Throughout this process, I learned ample amounts of my body via experimentation, but more importantly, consistency. While I am not extremely satisfied with the actual numbers that resulted on the platform, the process taught me an immense amount about myself.
It was not until I left my previous graduate program that I began really looking at self-exploration. I had lost so much of myself during those two years. I lost my love for food, which is especially unfortunate because, as a young adult of Chinese descent living in the Bay Area, food is such an integral part of culture. In my family (who I am not close with, but nonetheless), refusing food is akin to a slap in the face; it is an insult and should not be done in good etiquette. I lost my love for myself and so many facets by which I defined myself: being well versed in music, being well-read, being well-spoken, being goal-driven.
Complacency and victimization had become commonplace in my world after a traumatic "midterm evaluation" in which two doctors who were my superiors proceeded to call me slow and stupid, lacking class and disrespect for academia as a whole. To this day, their words sting, because I know I am neither of those things, but over time, I had allowed my complacency lodge itself in my chest and was "all right" going to school and clinic not giving half a fuck about what I was doing, resulting in a facade of being slow and stupid. No, it was not okay for them to say those things to me as superiors, but I can completely see why they were able to draw those conclusions from my demeanor and lack of effort that I put forth in clinic.
After leaving that graduate program, I immediately began researching graduate programs for a career that I have desired since high school: to be a counselor. I knew in my heart that was what I have always wanted to do, but fear (and some "typical Asian" expectations that ran deep in my parents) kept me from pursuing these dreams. To be a counselor and to provide a safe space for others to explore their thoughts, behaviors, and feelings, one must be aware of their own viewpoints and be extremely grounded. As counselors, we absolutely cannot force our opinions and try and "convince" clients to believe what we believe, and we also cannot "offer solutions" - it is 100% unethical. Believe me, this is easier said than done.
Through work and school, I realized where my strengths and weaknesses lie, and began to ground myself and set my intentions. I pace myself steadily as to not hasten empathy burnout - a common symptom of doing too much, too quickly in my industry. In the midst of this process, I became acutely more aware of my body image and how I react to different foods. To this day, I cannot eat a granola bar without an instinctual somatic reaction. My chest becomes tight, my ears grow hot, and my breathing quickens. But the most important thing is that I am aware, and my growth is a continual process. I fell in love with myself again, and somehow I also fell in love with makeup - something that I previously had written off because a not very nice boy in my third year of university told me that no amounts of makeup could fix my ugly. Sigh. I take 20-40 minutes of my day to put on makeup. Not because I need it. Not because I don't think I'm beautiful. But because it is a venue of creativity, color, glitter, self-love, and princess sass.
But where the fuck is the bikini competition? Ok, here it is.
I decided to take on bodybuilding as another sport of choice after my pelvic physiotherapist told me that it may be up to 6-9 months until I can seriously train for strength again. I contacted Emilia again and we began to reverse diet me up until I reached 350g of carbs a day without weight again. We then began a slow cut in the hopes of me stepping on stage at the NPC San Jose Championships on June 27th.
Let me make a few things clear:
1) My calories and my carbs are not low. They aren't. My coach is well-versed in nutrition and bodybuilding coaching and will not let me starve. My metabolism is still chugging along and does well with a refeed a week. I lose between 0.75-1 lb a week and I'm never dying of hunger. Sure, I'm hungry. But I'm losing weight and eating at a deficit. Plus, I don't really know what it's like to feel full. I've only ever felt "full" a few times in my life. I didn't think I'd be really satiated during a cut, let's be serious here.
2) I don't hate prep. I actually secretly like prep (and maybe I secretly like cardio too, but don't tell anyone... no, really, I have a shirt that says "anything but cardio" and another that has the words "I HATE RUNNING" emblazoned on it in neon green... don't tell anyone). Sure, I'm occasionally frustrated that I lost 0.25lb one week instead of the projected 0.75-1 lb a week. But it's not a hatred of prep. More importantly, it's not a hatred of myself or my body. It's just simply a minute frustration that I am putting in the work and not seeing the expected results.
3) This was completely and entirely a trial prep. I kept it from people for a good two months (except a few close friends) because I didn't know whether I would be ready. I wasn't expecting to place. Hell, I don't even know if I was expecting to go. But I knew that I was mentally and physically ready to give it all I had. I stuck to my macros to a T. I did all the cardio and I practiced posing 3 times a week. I did my thing.
Unfortunately, there just wasn't enough time. Last week, I emailed Emilia letting her know that it would behoove me to just treat this as a regular cut (and my boyfriend's 30th birthday is right around the same time that the show would be - I'm ok with lookin' bodacious in Vegas), then reverse diet and maintain a lower off-season weight, and then attempt to prep again after reverse dieting and building my metabolism again for a few months. With the enormous amounts of money I'd have to spend to do a show and the fact that my NPC card would expire at the end of 2015 regardless of how many times I'd use it, I was not satisfied bringing a mediocre package to the stage and paying $600 to do so. My coach and I both agreed that the cons outweighed the pros for doing this show, and I am not willing to drop my calories and carbs so low such that it would affect my functioning at my job and at school, only resulting in a mediocre package on stage.
Were there blips in my prep? Yes, of course there were. I had some mild sickness a couple weeks ago and took 4 doses of Nyquil, which is apparently 20g of carbs a pop and I had no idea. I also couldn't give cardio my all that week due to a persistent dry cough, and my body held a bunch of water. There were a couple weeks where the weight wouldn't move. But I loved the process. I eat ice cream and cookies every day. They fit in my macros. I eat bacon pretty much every day. It also fits in my macros. I loved seeing my body change, and I absolutely loved the idea of being on stage again, doing makeup, doing hair, wearing shiny things, being a princess, displaying my hard work. I have played the piano, danced, and been an athlete my whole life. Bodybuilding was the perfect combination. (I also realize that there are more "dirty" aspects of the sport and the industry, but I truly give no fucks for them. I do not desire to go pro because it simply does not fit in with my life and that is a choice I have made for myself. I just enjoy the sport and enjoy all the different aspects of it.)
I no longer fear change in my body, nor do I use it as a mechanism of control. There is control involved in the process, of course, in that I count macros and measure my food, but there is no control that belongs to food or body image. I am in love with myself, and my world is not the stage. I was upset that I couldn't do the show, yes, because I was excited to get on stage and wear my beautiful bikini, do my hair and makeup, and show off what I had built. I was not upset that I was not "stage lean". I knew that there was a strong possibility that I would not be and that was something I had accepted before embarking on this process. But it was my choice not to do it and not anyone else's. My coach gave me her opinion and we collaborated on the decision together. I am at peace with this choice and I am ready to give it my all whenever I decide to give prep another go. I most definitely will give prep another go. I get to lift and be a princess for 10 seconds on stage for $600. I'll take it.
I found strength and self-love throughout this process. Bodybuilding prep is not for everyone. In fact, it's probably only for a small percentage of the population. Being in therapy and going through the amount of self-reflection I do in my program has assisted me through the process and will continue to guide me when I take on prep again. Right now, I'm still cutting and will continue to do so until the first week of July. For comparison's sake, here's a photo I took yesterday at the gym:
And yes, I love myself. I love myself when I'm this lean, but I also loved myself on the platform 10 pounds heavier. I love myself, full stop, no strings attached. That's how I know I am ready to take prep on another time: because even though I'm not ready for the stage (or as I like to put it - the stage isn't ready for me), my degree and propensity of self-love has not changed.
