Let's Get Real

Let's get real ladies. Being a woman is HARD. Society expects so much of us, yet wants us to be able to admit when we are struggling. BUT if you do admit those struggles, you're weak or sharing too much of your private life or whatever excuse they can use to avoid helping us. I'm here to admit all of my struggles, and there's more than enough of those to go around.

My name is Kaylen Blesch. I'm a college graduate, recently accepted into grad school. I was an accomplished gymnast in my day, winning a state title twice. I danced for a semi-pro football team for a season and did some low-key modeling for a local photographer. I am a mother to the most perfect little girl in the world and surrounded by friends and family who would take a bullet for me any day.

But I struggle. Every. Single. Day. I'm going to get very real with you all. I was pretty proud of the fact that I only gained 22 pounds throughout my whole pregnancy. I left the hospital in my regular clothes and wore my tightest pair of skinny jeans less than a week later. I can diet and work out for one week and get my abs back. I am 23 years old and weigh 107 pounds. I wear extra small dresses and can fit into clothes I wore back in middle school. This all sounds pretty good, right? So here's the kicker.

I feel fat on a daily basis.

Every day of my life, at some point in time, I scour my body searching for every detail I can't stand. My lower belly pudges out and makes me look fat. I always have more than one chin. The skin under my triceps jiggle when my arms move. I will NEVER have a thigh gap or anything close. I don't have defined cheek bones in my face. And this is just the beginning. No matter how low the number on the scale gets, I am never satisfied. I never feel skinny. I'll have moments where I think I look okay after all and then "poof!" I take a swallow of water and watch my belly bloat out like I've just eaten an entire shark.

Here's where it gets super real. I've battled an eating disorder since I was 14 years old. I was bulimic on and off for years and have had many bouts of starving myself to get the results I wanted. I stopped throwing up when I was halfway through my pregnancy. I didn't know I was pregnant for the first 4 months and vowed to set a better example for my daughter. My boyfriend, who supported me every step of this journey, made it clear that if I did not put in effort myself to get better then there was no need for him to. The thought of him giving up on me was enough for me to pull my act together and focus on what really mattered—nurturing a healthy baby girl. But you wouldn't believe how many times throughout my pregnancy that he had to force me to eat. I didn't have a huge appetite but could've eaten plenty—I was scared of gaining weight I couldn't lose. My mom would buy me bags of my favorite chocolate just to get more calories in me. (I can't say no to some Dove chocolate or Reeses.)

Once my daughter was born, my body did not naturally produce a beautiful stream of breast milk readily available any time I needed it. My daughter has a tongue and lip tie so I exclusively pumped. Around the time she was 6 months old, my body was done producing milk. It was taking every calorie from my body and pushing me into a state of weakness and tiredness I could not overcome. I didn't realize this until about 2 months later when I had multiple people stop my parents and tell them that I was too skinny. I did not understand this at the time and still don't because no part of me seemed "too skinny." My sister was an Indianapolis Colts Cheerleader for 6 years and I never got close to the degree of "skinny" she was cheering. So I continued to brush everyone off while I begged and pleaded with my body to produce more milk. I was constantly dizzy. Already slightly anemic, losing all my nutrients through breast milk left me blacked out any time I stood up. I was irritable 24/7 and unhappy hooked up to that pump. I would stay attached to it all day, power pumping just to get my supply back to normal. I couldn't stay hydrated to save my life and began to get clogs in my breast weekly.

I was truly falling apart. My clothes didn't fit right. All of my yoga pants were baggy and falling off my waist. We had to put them in the dryer every time we washed them to help them stay small enough for me to wear. My face shape had changed entirely, almost making it look like I may have cheek bones buried in there after all.

Now, through all of this I never looked like a sack of bones. The outside world would have never known I was in such an unhealthy state. But THAT'S MY POINT. Girls like me exist all over the place—falling apart, starving themselves, throwing up— and they may look okay. But that doesn't mean they are anywhere near okay. You do not have to look like a skeleton to have a true eating disorder. You don't have to be skinny to have a mental war going on inside your head.

That was the stigma I had gotten so attached to. You couldn't count every rib on my body or every bone in my vertebrae so I wasn't truly sick. My stomach didn't cave in so I wasn't actually too skinny. I could still manage normal life so I was fine.

I WAS NOT FINE. I was miserable.

For my daughter's first birthday, we brought her to an indoor water park. Her father and I were split up at the time but I was still madly in love with and heartbroken over him. I was absolutely determined to look good in a swimsuit, thinking that would some how make him want me back. So I went to work. The week leading up to the event I maintained a strict diet of no more than 1,400 calories a day. I am a HUGE junk food eater, I live for sweets—but not this week. I drank nothing but water, drank smoothies made with a cup or two of fruit only for a lot of my meals. Consumed zero junk food and kept track of my intake to the exact calorie. I did cardio twice a day (I don't do cardio so you know I was truly desperate to lose as much weight as I could). The day of the party I didn't eat any food before we swam and we didn't even meet until around 3 pm. I actually felt kind of good in a swimsuit that day; I was so proud of my work. But later when I looked back on pictures of the day excited to see how much progress I had made the week before, I wasn't happy. My stomach wasn't flat enough. My legs weren't defined at all. I had to talk myself out of depression because of how upset I was with my appearance. All the while, my family was horrified at how much weight I had lost. I had gotten back down to my breastfeeding weight of 103 pounds. I am 5'4" so this isn't a horrifyingly low number. As I stated before, I was not a walking skeleton. But I had lost every ounce of muscle I once had. I used to be known for my muscular, defined gymnast legs that my friends and family absolutely adored. My face looked hollow. I did not look good, as I had hoped for.

I don't think I will ever be "skinny enough." I don't think I can ever be satisfied while my mindset is still this way. And I know so many of you understand exactly what I am saying. I'm here to end the stigma. I'm here to get healthy and truly be happy once and for all. "My name is Kaylen Blesch and I have an eating disorder. " I have actually admitted this truth before, but I didn't' believe it when I said it. I would admit it to make my family happy because admitting your problem is the first step in solving it, right? My aunt pleaded with me so many times to go to counseling to help and constantly worried about my weight. She could tell I had a battle going on inside my head and it was showing on the outside, too. She actually sent me a message TWO DAYS AGO saying she thought I was too skinny again and that she would help me find help if I wanted her to. I told her I was fine; I haven't even been "dieting" lately. But I have been keeping track of everything I eat, healthy or unhealthy. I have been checking out my body in the mirror every single day, unhappy with what I see. I have been having thoughts and making mental plans to lose weight again. I didn't believe that I truly had an eating disorder because I look okay. I even feel more okay than I have in the past. But ladies, I have an eating disorder. My mindset is not okay. I am not healthy and the worst of it is: I am a ticking time bomb as to when I'll go off the deep end again and starve myself or throw up everything I eat. Every time it's a competition to see how far I can go—how much weight can I lose this time? How few calories can I consume today? I try to outdo myself and go a little further each time.

My name is Kaylen Blesch and I have an eating disorder. And today, I truly believe it. This will not change overnight and it could take months or more likely years to truly fix my mindset. And I'm okay with that. My daughter needs me to be healthy and strong to take care of her. I would never be able to live with myself if she grew up to starve herself and throw up her food because she didn't think she was skinny enough— because she watched her mother feel that way about herself. My baby watches everything I do and she truly sees it all. It's amazing what she picks up on already at one year old. I am going to get healthy for her. I am going to get healthy for myself. The best way to instill a good habit in your child is to show them through example. I have the honor of molding this gorgeous soul and I am going to show her every day that she is beautiful no matter what size she is—and I'm going to do that through my actions, my words, and most importantly my thoughts. Let's work together, ladies, to truly feel beautiful in our own skin. It is okay to not be okay; but it's not okay to stay that way.