College: Love & Basketball (2nd Half)

"Don't even think about it.  Stop staring at your flaws in the mirror.  Stop pinching yourself everywhere you see that needs work, that no matter how hard you work out still doesn't look the way you want it to."

But I hate this feeling of fullness, not enjoying food, not enjoying ME in MY skin.  What if I like it.  What if this will help me.  What if this will make me feel better about myself.  What if this is the answers to all my problems. Maybe this is the relief I have been looking for to get all the pressure off all the expectations I put on myself. I'm just going to try just this ONCE and then I'll know to never to eat this much again.  Okay...just this once...

...And that one time turned in to the next 8 years of my life.  It almost felt like I was standing at the free throw line, sweat dripping down my face, breathing hard, heart pounding, knees trembling, and the game was on my shoulders.  If I made this free throw, we would win the game, not just the game, but the championship.  After making that shot, the weight that lifted off my mind and body was the same type of feeling I felt that night when my whole world changed.

Rewinding back a few months, junior year just started and life seemed pretty good at the time.  It was the first football season I got to watch my boyfriend play and wore a jersey his family gave me every game with pride. Other than football, it was basketball and school work and ready to see what junior year on the court had in store for me.

I know, Guilford tailgating looks pretty intense

Season got under way, things were going pretty well.  Practices got harder but I loved it.  I actually had to transition positions from high school where I was a 2, shooting guard to a 4, sometimes, 5 at Guilford (power forward).  Not only did I have to work harder but had to learn a whole new position with girls that were bigger, taller, stronger than me.  I wasn't going to let that get in the way of my success, I was destined to still beat them with my smaller frame.  I was having pretty good success at that being quicker but still wasn't living up to my standards.  It was tough getting pushed around and I was getting beyond frustrated with myself.

 One game I had to guard the team's best player who went on to be the ODAC Player of the Year (not pictured).  She was beating me left and right.  She was stronger than me, she was better than me, and she was guarding me as well.  I remember I went 2 for 8 at the free throw line because I let her get in my head.  We ended up losing the game and of course I put all the blame on me.  If only I was better.  That night was also a UNC vs Duke game (a little side note about myself, I bleed Carolina Blue).  My roommates and I had people over for the game and we just so happened to live right above some football guys so it was pretty convenient to all hang out.  I rarely drank during season but after my game earlier that afternoon, I didn't really care.  We had pizza and beer at the apartment and everyone was having a good time watching the game, except me.  Not only was I still bummed about my game, but it was the first time I felt SO much anxiety at once: pizza and beer, a lot of people, UNC basketball, button waist shorts on, walls were caving in fast.  I had deprived myself of pizza, fries, desserts, anything that was "bad" for me but I didn't want to look "uncool" and not eat, hell I was starving!  So, I was drinking beer which 1. holy bloating happening and 2. I ate a piece of pizza.  Ya'll, it was like I had never tasted pizza before.  It was so damn good.  So you know what, I had another one...and...another.  The game ended, UNC lost, I was full up to my neck, my shorts were tighter, and everyone else was carrying on with life as normal.  I was thinking to myself, how do people eat like this and not care?  What does that feel like?  What does normal feel like?  Because I am miserable.  Everyone wanted to go downstairs to the guys place to play beer pong and I just wanted to buy the first plane ticket out of there.  I looked at my boyfriend and said I was going to change because "I just didn't like my outfit anymore" and that I will meet everyone downstairs.  YES, it worked.  So there I was, alone in my apartment, staring at myself in the bathroom, lifting up my shirt, scrutinizing my stomach and waist and just could not believe what I just did.  How could I allow THREEEE pieces of pizza in my body?  Do you know how many calories, fat, carbs that is? AND beer?  You're fat, you're gonna be sluggish on the court now, you have no control, you're not supposed to eat like this, you know better.  People view you as a workout-aholic, shouldn't you just be eating lettuce?  Well, if we could direct our attention to the first paragraph I wrote, this is where it happened.  I was in the bathroom, shaming myself of the person I was for allowing food in my body and had to get rid of it, HAD TO.   And, IT happened, for the first time, and like I said before, that instant gratification of not feeling full was the feeling I had been yearning for.  I wasn't thinking about my game, my shorts, my body, I was thinking how empty I felt in side and I was hooked.  This was it.  It actually put me in a good mood because it was like an adrenaline rush you had control over.

The next day I had no regrets, I slid my hand down my stomach and it was actually flat because I'm sure I was dehydrated and my body never really got the nutrients it needed for dinner.  In my mind, that was a success.  So, it continued.  Any time I was feeling overwhelmed, frustrated with school, with bball, with my boyfriend, or just for the hell of it, I knew how to escape my life and feel relief from everything immediately.  Funny enough, I wasn't slipping on the court, it actually made me work even harder.  I would even do it right before practice and that spark of energy it would give me, knowing nothing was in my system to make me gain weight AND working out, would make me lose weight faster and play better.  It became the only thing I had control over.  I could control when I did it, how I did it, where I did it...it was a friend that was always there for me, that understood everything I was going through, thinking I was the ONLY person on this earth struggling with her place in life.  It started taking a toll on my relationship because it almost became my new boyfriend.  When we would fight, I would think everything was my fault because I wasn't good enough or when I had to make sure everyone still liked me even though I had a boyfriend, I had to make my rounds when we were out and say my hello's to everyone I knew thinking I was this "perfect little thing with tons of friends, no problems at all" and leave my boyfriend behind.  He would get mad and would never understand why.  It became a part of my daily routine and boy oh boy was I getting good at it.  I would never "take a day off" because you would never just take a day off from being someone's friend.  It just became a part of who I was but funny thing is, NEVER thought I had a problem.  NEVER diagnosed myself with having an eating disorder because my mind was so far in to it that it never saw it as a sickness but as a way of life.  It got as bad as doing it right before a game, how didn't I get caught?  Like I said, I was good.  Surprisingly I would have 20+ pt games when that happened.  It's beyond me how I didn't pass out during a game or practice or working out.  A part of me thinks that God kept me going so I could be sitting here today sharing my story to let ya'll know, it hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows.

Carolina meets Indiana '08

 This was the mask that would stay on for awhile.  It gave my confidence, power, and purpose every day.  Baggy gym clothes became my attire every day so I didn't have to face what my body actually looked like underneath clothes but also, to play up my identity of being an athlete and nothing more.  I would dress up only if I were going out on a weekend and even then, never anything to show off my shape but I did loveeee a good high heel outside of Nike's.  SO, I ended  junior year season making First Team All-ODAC, 4th in conference in scoring, and received the highest athletic award at Guilford, the Nereus C. English Leadership Athletic Award. My dad would say how proud he was of me and even got my number (33) sewn in his GC Women's Basketball hat.  That gave me life.  Well, you would think I would have so much guilt on my mind with what I was doing behind doors, but I didn't.  I was happy I found something that only I knew about, a secret that no one knew how I kept on a happy face all of the time, a secret that led me to make people believe I was happy.

Skipping right in to SENIOR YEAR, nothing changed with my secret other than it got worse or "better" in my mind.  It was my last year of college and wanted to go out with a bang.  Other than sophomore year, this was probably the funnest year of playing.  My hometown friends would surprise me on a few occasions with coming to games, one of my best friends from CCU came, my blonde bombshell in crime from Indiana came, family from PA, my parents always in the stand home/away games, and I really did make some of the greatest friends through my teammates.  Ya'll may think, geez did this girl do anything else besides basketball in college?  Well sure, but nothing compared to the feeling I would have after a game or practice or a work out when I was drenched in sweat.  I didn't know what a day was like without sweating.  It was a high I would never come off of, on top of having "IT" to always turn to.  I was in a cycle that no one could break.  One major heart break that happened senior year was that my boyfriend was an early graduate and would go back to Florida in December.  Sadly, I thought I was going to be fine because I had my "other boyfriend" that would always be there for me.  Sure it sucked, he was my first LOVE, but its like my priority list took a maaaajor turn in how I was living my life.  We decided to take a break because where he was in life and where I was just wasn't the same.  I was a perfectionist and could never be the perfect girlfriend he was looking for.  I then paid all my attention to basketball and my body.  I would have fun when I could but then torture myself the next day with eating disorder behaviors or work out until I was numb.  Season was coming to an end and it was like my identity was coming to an end.  I was so used to being the athlete that I didn't know what I wanted to do or be when I graduated.  I had an internship at the Fort Myers Miracle Minor League Baseball Team one summer but didn't really want to go in to sports but thought I could just think about it later, I had more games to tend to.

 It was Senior Day, the game I had been dreading knowing it was coming to an end, but also a game that could take me over the 1,000 point marker.  I had so much anxiety before the game I quickly "got rid of it" and was ready to go.  The amount of pressure and the unsaid expectations I put on myself was waiting for this moment, to hit a marker I had set for myself my sophomore year.  And my friends, it happened.  I hit 1,000 points off an "And 1" and it was one of the most unforgettable moments of my life.  My dad actually got a picture of the shot that went in and for once in my life, I actually was proud of myself for hitting that goal.  We ended up winning my senior day game and celebrated with my hometown friends and college friends at a hotel near by that my parents set up for us.  Still to this day, one of the best days of my life.  I ended my senior year/college basketball career with 1,021 points, 5th in conference in scoring, First Team-All ODAC again, Guilford College Female Athlete of the Year and played in the ODAC vs USA South All-Star Game.  My parents traveled over 9,000 miles over the 3 years and never missed a game.  The team and I joked that we couldn't start a game until The Croner's were in the stands.  And OMG, I'm forever lucky to have parents like mine.  

Hometown gang

Momma and Poppa Croner

Roomies <3

Of course I have to be the negative nancy and make sure ya'll dont think I am gloating, but I honestly never really appreciated my credentials until now.  I would scrug them off because I still didn't think they were up to par for me or that my mind only thought about food and my E.D.  I didn't help my team get a ring, I was 5th not 1st, I was GC's Female Athlete of the Year but not the ODAC's, I never got to the All-American level.  I am kicking myself in the ass right now because now that I have a MUCH clearer mindset than I did then, I can say I am pretty freakin' proud of myself for what I did during my time there.  Yes, I was damaging my body more than I ever knew but I am now appreciating my college experience exactly for what it was worth... which was priceless.

After all the basketball hype, I still played pick up with the team until the last day of college.  I just didn't want to hang the Nike's up just yet, and neither did my eating disorder.  Graduation was coming and still didn't have a clear sense of what I wanted to do because I didn't really know who I was.  It all became clear real fast that SHIT, I'm about to go into the real world where there are no practices, no games, no time to spend hours in the gym.  My "inside best friend" became more present more times a day to try and relieve the stress I was putting myself under and it finally came...the day the world got real.  Who was I without that #33 jersey on?

The Real World comes next, and no, it's nothing that MTV prepared us for.

*This one was painful yet reliving at the same time to type, all these post are actually theraputic as I can get this all off my chest, finally.  BUT, I just want to give a shoutout to my teammates, my coach, my then boyfriend, all my friends that came to see me and family, my parents, my friends at GC, for being a part of my journey.  I'm sorry if this brings hurt to any of ya'll but know that I am in a much better place today as I continue to work on my recovery.  Could not ask for a better college experience with the people I had around me.*

"When we deny the story, it defines us.  When we own the story, we can write a brave new ending"

- Brene Brown

See ya out there,

TLC

College: Love & Basketball (1st Half)

TO 

So, it was extremely hard posting a picture of me in a bathing suit much less it being when I was probably at my lowest weight, but also that the little demon inside me started wishing I still had that body, the body when I was eating about three apples a day and maybe a bite or two of a protein bar on top of working out. Gah, my stomach was actually pretty flat then, you could see my shoulder bones, hip bones, ribs, etc. I did have the body I always wanted. Then I thought, was I reallllly happy then?  Did I enjoy not tasting any food and depriving myself of everything that was good.  Did I really even notice my body when I was X pounds?  The answer is no.  I still only saw flaws.  I would ONLY lay down on the beach, never having the confidence to walk around and have fun with everyone else, to still cover up in a blanket pretending I'm cold sitting on a couch or in a group setting, anything I could get my hands on to cover up my body.  I cannot say that is completely not the case today, but I am slooowly starting to appreciate my body for what it looks like now, in its healthy frame, as opposed to then, and to thank it for serving its purposes it does on a daily basis.  So anyone looking back at pictures of themselves during a "different body" time, just ask yourself, were you really happy then? 

Ooookie dokie, moving on.  So I started my college career at Coastal Carolina University in Conway, SC.  For those who are not familiar with the school, it is basically a hop, skip, and a jump from Myrtle Beach.  College AND the beach?  What more could a student want right out of high school.  It wasn't as easy of a decision as it seemed.  Remember those laced up Nike's?  Well, I thought I was ready to explore the world outside of sports that I was always in, no matter the season, and trade in basketball practice to practicing my tan.  Sure I would miss the write ups in the paper, seeing my parents in the stands cheering on the team, the attention and confidence it gave me from external sources thinking I was actually doing something right with my life.  Maybe I was ready to give it a rest so I would stop being so hard on myself for never thinking I was good enough because I wasn't 100% from the floor, maybe if I went to college at the beach, I could get the body I have always wanted.  So, after lingering thought, I decided the beach was calling my name and had to let the college recruits know that I was no longer interested in pursuing a college basketball career.

CCU KNOW!

I got to Coastal and of course my first "classroom" I had to find was the gym because I didn't have sports to keep me in shape, still loved to workout, and knew I had to be "bathing suit" ready at all times (some may question why I would think going to the beach would help any internal pain I was dealing with but it was almost to the point where pain was actually comfort).  This is where I would spend my time if I wasn't in class or doing homework or okay, going to Club Kryptonite for College Night.  I started working out in sweatshirts, still wearing all my old basketball clothes, hanging on to that inner athlete I said goodbye to, never recycled the black Nike crew socks and quickly became known as "the girl in the black socks."  I loved it, I still had the presence of an athlete but also the freedom to do what I wanted, when I wanted.  Well that love only lasted a month or two until it turned into hate.  I started to REALLY, REALLY miss basketball and the structure it gave me in my life and dare I say, attention.  Intramurals just wasn't doing it for me and almost even made it worse knowing I COULD have been a collegiate athlete.  This is when I just started hating myself and the decision I had made, crying my eyes out in my dorm room thinking my life was over, thinking I was a failure and let my family down for not sticking with my passion of basketball, missing the confidence it gave me and the outside praise it gave me because I didn't know how to praise myself for the person I was.  So, instead of continuing to torture myself internally, my family and I started to reach back out to some of the recruits that had seen me play to see if ANYONE would still be interested.  Of course, there was a lot of, ha NO's, but God finally shed some light and  I received a phone call from the head coach at Guilford College saying they were still interested in having me come play.  That phone call was the prayer I wanted to come true so badly, and it did, and I did not let it slip away this time.  

After saying my goodbyes to some really great friends I made at Coastal, and some that are still a HUGE part of my life today, I was on the road to Greensboro, NC to enroll at Guilford College as a Sophomore and play on the women's basketball team.  Of course my favorite little friend that lived inside me had to put in its two cents.  So I started thinking, did a part of me leave to escape finding out who I was off the court?  Is everyone expecting me to be a good player like I was in high school?  Get back the "great game, Tracey" "awesome job" "way to play tough out there" confidence boosters?  Sure, because that means I could avoid finding what those core negative issues were all about for a few more years, I could mask everything I was thinking on the inside. (boy oh boy, if the Me now could give a friendly "wake up" slap to the face to Me then).  I got out of my head and got back to be so freakin' excited to get back on the court!!  SO, I got situated at Guilford, met my new teammates, met some of the guys team and other athletes, and everything just felt right.  Granted I knew my meal plan had to change as I was quickly told I needed to put on a few pounds and it was at a point I would do anything to continue to play.  I met with a nutritionist and she helped me get back on the right track and will forever thank my coach for that.  However, as pre-season was underway on top of eating more, I never thought just a few workouts and pick up games were enough.  I would head straight for the weight room and get on the treadmill bike, or elliptical and continue to work out until I felt like I sweated enough to actually put food in my body and let it digest without thinking it would turn to strictly fat.  This became my routine.  My coach did catch me one time in our weight room on the treadmill on our day off and turned off the treadmill and told me to go back to my room.  You would think that would scare the hell out of me but my mind out ruled everyone, including the person who took a chance in bringing me in to play.  Yes my teammates thought I was crazy and how could I possibly want to work out more but it was just ingrained in me to push myself past my limits, I loved working hard, just didn't know when too much was...too much.  It got to the point where it was all about what my body looked like and the high expectations I put on myself to be the best, to have the fit/toned body an athlete should have now that I'm at the college level.  My arms were going to be exposed obviously in my practice and game jersey so I wanted to make sure they looked good enough, "athletic" enough, as well as my quads and calves.  If any on-lookers were watching in pre-season, guys team waiting to play next, I would think to myself they were looking at ME, judging me, was I good, I was the "newbie" so I had to be good, I couldn't mess up, I had to make my parents and friends proud, I might as well go hard every chance I got in the gym or during a pick up game to prove to everyone and myself I was good enough to be here. (even right now, as I'm typing, my inner voice is saying, please don't think I'm conceded, gah I sound so full of myself in thinking it was all about me all the time, but, this is MY story and unfortunately, just how my mind worked)

 My kind of sorority

Season started and I was so pumped.  Finally, what I have been waiting for.  After the first week or so of two-a-days I was second guessing my decision of working out so hard on top of pre-season drills.  I was dying, but I couldn't let any one see, people knew how much I was working out so how could I possibly be breathing hard?  Well this thing called nutrition was probably pretty important.  Coach would ask me if I was feeling okay, drank enough water, ate enough before practice, of course my answer was always yes.  It took every ounce of energy to keep going because when I got on the court, I was happy and would go 0 to 100 real quick (thank you, Drake).  I couldn't fail at this.  I was supposed to be a good basketball player and that is what I would be and nothing would stop me.  Our first games started and ya'll, it was awful.  It's like I had never played before.  I couldn't catch the ball, I couldn't make a lay up, everything I worked so hard for was sinking like the Titanic.  What was happening?  Was I putting SO much pressure on myself to be this stand out player after taking a year off, expecting the same if not better player from high school.  I was so far into my head every game that it led me to earning a spot on the bench for the first time in my life instead of starting.  I paid so much more attention to my body and how I appeared to everyone else instead of really focusing on being a collegiate athlete and playing a game I absolutely loved.  I would tell myself I did fail.  I failed myself, I failed my family, I failed my teammates, coach, friends, everyone because I was so wrapped up in what other people were thinking of me (and who's to say any one gave two shits about what I was doing?!?) and I walked around paranoid everywhere thinking everyone was staring and pointing at the transfer who failed.


I tried hiding those thoughts and feelings during practice because practice is where I could prove to myself, my team, and my coach that I WAS good enough to get back into a starting position.  Then it finally happened, the game that changed my college career for the next three years.  I came off the bench soon after the game started and you would've thought my ass was on fire as hard and fast as I was playing.  Something went OFF in my mind and I had one of the best games of my college career.  I was making shots, made good assist, dove for lose balls, grabbed rebounds.  The newspaper back in my hometown got word and wrote an article on my game, and it happened, I got the confidence back that I was missing and reaffirming myself that I was doing something right.  But need I remind you, all it took was an external source to notice me to make me notice myself.  Why couldn't I do this on my own?  Why did I have to wait for compliments to come for me to start believing in myself?  My parents didn't miss a game, home/away, seeing them back in the stands cheering us on, that didn't wash away all the negative thoughts?  Remember when I started hating myself when I got to Coastal?  Yea, that hate was still very much present even though I did what I thought would make me happy, to play basketball again.  I kind of just shrugged those feelings off and kept this "high" of coming off a great game.  That game led me back into the starting position, averaged double figures by season end, a 90.2% season record from the free throw line, and spots on NC All-State Team and Second Team All-Conference for the ODAC.  What started out as a horrific season, ended with me absolutely loving where I was at in life and made the transfer well worth it.  Now don't think my workouts stopped afterwards.  I was right back in the gym the day after our last game, back to still sweating my ass off (which in a weird way I do thoroughly still enjoy? lol not sure I should admit that in public, *cough* okay continue), playing a pick up game whenever I could, because in my mind I had to keep up this mentality of always working hard and never settling for the player I was.  If I wasn't working out or working on my game I thought it would look like I was lazy, that I didn't care about getting better.  I could always get better.  My love for working out started to become love for the wrong reasons, but I couldn't stop.  So I played and worked out, played and worked out, didn't really get the "college experience" outside of playing a sport...that is until Spring Break happened.

Don't be scared ya'll.

I made some awesome friends outside of basketball and they invited me on Spring Break to none other than....PANAMA CITY BEACH, BABY!  I was stoked but also scared out of my damn mind.  The beach?!  With this body?  I had gained weight since Coastal and for season and in my mind, couldn't I just lose the weight I had gained during season and just put it back on after summer?  Sure, Trace, because that just seemed like a brilliant idea!!  So the work outs picked up and meals started to lessen.  We got to Panama City Beach and all seemed right in the world.  I had lost a few pounds, I was with friends experiencing what a college Spring Break was like, annnnd not to mention some of the football team was down there as well.  I was ready to let lose finally after a grueling season and dare I say have FUN?, and I may or may not have had a little (lot) of liquid courage in me as well.  

I finally let my guard down a little bit and was dancing, laughing, drinking, being a college student, and I started chatting with one of the guys, who was the quarterback I had noticed before, but again as we have learned the tremendous amount of self confidence I had, never thought I would ever have a chance with.  We actually ended up hitting it off and continued to talk and hang out when we all got back to school. We went to parties together, hung out after classes, went on trips to football guys beach house.  So this is what it's like for someone other than my parents and friends to care about me?  Wow, maybe I had been missing out.  He finally asked me to be his girlfriend while me, my best friend from home, and him were driving in his truck and I answered with a casual, YEA!  So there I was, a girlfriend.  A girlfriend to a guy who I never thought noticed me, a girlfriend that didn't like who she was but someone else did, a girlfriend that would have to be perfect for dating a football player as well as being a basketball player.  A girlfriend who... wait... how do I be a girlfriend?!?!  I started getting more attention, people teasing me "of courseeeee you're dating the quarterback" not really knowing what that meant, was I missing something?  So in my mind I was like well damn, I better step up my game then since people expect a lot out of me! (again with me planting all these stories in other peoples heads)  I started going out more, dressing up more, I almost felt like I was two different people.  I was Tracey the basketball player and Tracey the girlfriend who wanted to try so hard at being the best girlfriend because I didn't want my boyfriend to say "that's her" and get any eye rolls or disgusted looks.  Granted, it wasn't all about being HIS, the QBs, girlfriend.  We had an amazing one-on-one relationship, someone who I connected with on a whole new level, someone who you will see later that knew me pretty much more than I knew myself.  He knew I wasn't used to having someone there, messing up here and there, but he reminded me to just be myself and THAT is why he liked me but as funny as it sounds, I didn't know how to do that.  Was being myself acceptable, worthy enough to actually be someone outside of gym shorts and over size t-shirts.  It is crazy what your mind can tell you and to tell you enough that you start to believe it.  The end of my sophomore year was coming to an end and as I looked back, it was something I should have been sooooo proud of with all the accomplishments I had made on the court my first year back, my teammates that turned to sisters, new friends, and a boyfriend that treated me like gold.  But why was that still not enough to like who I saw in the mirror?  Why did I continue to pinch every ounce of skin/fat that was on my body and dissect every little thing that I thought was wrong with me.  Everything outside of my body seemed to be going well, basketball, fitness, boyfriend, staying in Greensboro for the summer with friends.  I started second guessing why "good" was happening to me because I felt like I didn't deserve "good"....this led to trouble.

      

With how much negative self talk I had and taking a trip back down freshman and sophomore lane,  I'm going to have to call this halftime.  Second half I'll finish out my college basketball career, what happened with Mr. Right, and what it felt like for the first time...to do something I would NEVER, EVER, imagine myself to do.

Get some water, towel off, see you back after half. 

(your name here), be awesome today.

TLC

Practice Postponed - Pep Talk

Well, this is a prime example of what it is like living in the moment and me keeping it real. (I feel like I should throw up a peace sign and have duck lips when I say that, please tell me you know what I'm trying to envision here. eek).  I found a comfy spot outside a local coffee shop, alllll excited to relive college.  I started typing a few sentences...and you know what, instead of going straight to 'jump ball', center court, I decided I needed a warm-up and I just wasn't really feelin' it, the topic at hand that is.  Something was weighing heavier on my chest than that.  So, I'm sorry if whoever is reading this did indeed come with their Nike's laced up and ice bath ready and wondering how it was like for me being a collegiate athlete with an E.D and might I add transferring schools, being a girlfriend and falling in love for the first time, and trying to figuring out who I was outside of 'Tracey, the basketball player/fashionista' because instead of following my "to-do" list and my timeline of post I have already mapped out, I am going the opposite direction (strong gasp) and NOT following it.  I think my therapist in Denver will possibly do a karate kick, fist pump, and shout out a "FINALLY" to me breaking my own rules.

So, what am I going to talk about?  (and I promise, before you start reading, I am NOT going to have constant Oscar accepting speeches in every post, but this is just so new for me and had to share this feeling) I honestly did not know what emotional toll of my sharing would have on my mind, body, and spirit (all in a good way).  The next day I think I felt an emotional hangover, numb, because never in my wildest dreams would I ever think 1.  I would tell the world what I was going through, let alone a few friends and 2.  this would have the response it did.  How could something so personal. so intimate, so 'gross', so ABSOLUTELY SCARY have such a positive impact on my soul?  Having that said, you know a girl has to have a mushy, gushy, sappy moment for a hot sec because...OMG ya'll!  The amount of support, love, encouragement, motivation I received from all outlets was so incredibly breath-taking.  I know this all may sound so cliche and 'yea okay, just get on with it' but I seriously wanted to take a moment to say thank you.  Well, thank you doesn't even begin to express the feelings and emotions I felt after reading so many heart-felt responses and personal messages from people I do not know from Adam, to those I haven't spoke to in years, to those I see every day.  It took me a very long time that morning to finally hit the post button because all my negative self talk was getting the best of me.  "Tracey, what do you think you're doing?  Who do you think you are? You really want to show this side of you that some people may hate, despise, reject, judge?  You don't have the confidence, the bravery, the courage to do this, you are just another eating disorder that no one cares about because why would any one take the time out of their day to read about little ol you?  That's just selfish, conceded, being so full of yourself.  You can't do this, you won't do this."  Any of this sound familiar?  Welcome to my mind.  But then I realized, it was that little BIATCH inside me getting in my head again, making me loath who I am and where I am in life, "shoulding" myself into thinking I wasn't even good enough, worthy enough to tell my own story, because IT has already taken over and THAT is who I am and who I will be.  That I'll never have the guts to take that leap of faith in to the world of authenticity and letting my mask down because no one would like me or accept me.  I SHOULD have a career by now, I SHOULD have a boyfriend or possibly a husband, I SHOULD know who I am and what I want out of life, I SHOULD know what it is like to love and to be loved because who would ever want me now with all the baggage I have created for myself?  Anybody else want to bitch slap the hell out of this thing by now?  Well, I did, hard.  I took a deep breath, swallowed every negative thought I was having and just hit publish.  That moment changed my life. Did I really just do that?  I felt like not only did I just finally, finalllllllly, prove to myself that I am strong, that I am brave, that I do have the guts, that I am courageous, but that I AM better than my eating disorder and that it does NOT define the person I am today! GEEEEEZ now I am getting all worked up, I feel like "Eye of the Tiger" should be playing in the background right now.  So anyways, just wanted to say thank you.  Thank you for letting me share and not regret it, to know that I can and will do this.  Thank you for taking the 5 or so minutes out of your day to read my last post and make me feel like I AM worthy, people DO care, and this WILL help change lives.

On a side note, I received questions on how frequently I plan on posting and here is my honest answer.  I don't know.  With something that has been such a HUGE part of my life, personally, physically, emotionally, mentally, it does get hard bringing up past triggers and events and opening myself up like a book. I do not want to push myself too much to where something I am doing to help me stay in recovery becomes a stresser (is that a word? sure.) or burden in my life.  I never want it to get to the point of, OMG I HAVE TO POST TODAY, OMG let me rush this personal scenario just to get something out there, to becoming the blog and not a person, and have it lose all true meaning to who I am and why I am doing this.  I have learned life is all about a little thing called, balance and I'm happy that I found a clean slate where I can just start typing and post whenever I please, simple as that.  The next few post will be a blast from the past but stay with me, I thought it was very important for ya'll to get a foundation of what it took for get me to get to where I am today.  I just wanted to get allllllll of this off my chest, and omg does it feel good, and give you a short time line of what's going on with this girl right churrrrr.  

I do want to leave you with this:  To those that may fear rejection, fear judgement, thinking there will never be any possible way to get out of the funk you may be in, just close your eyes, breathe, and listen.  Do not be afraid to show who you truly are.  Do not let fear get in the way of telling your own story and how you live in it every day.  You are beautiful.  You are important.  You are strong.  You are worthy to be standing on this very ground, breathing in this fresh air that we call life, being the best version of YOUrself.  You have a choice, every second of every day, to decide how you are going to live in the next present moment.  Choose wisely.

Practicing what I preach, I choose using this moment to show me, a comfortable, first selfie, no filter, no make up, sweaty hair, present, me, because it is something I have feared, something I feel will be judged, WELP...

  

'Ello!

And did I just get caught taking this selfie, making a weird face, pretending like I'm not really taking a picture....

WHY YES, YES I DID.

*I have to give a quick and personal shout out to my family, who are my rock - My dad, mom, my two brothers, and future sister-in-law for the biggest support of all for standing by my side as I let the world see me.  This has not been an easy road for them and can only imagine the hurt/pain/disappointment I have caused with past decisions, on top of our family going through a few traumatic events, but nothing will or ever tear us a part but only make us stronger.  As a family, I can honestly say I would not be here today, able to do what I am doing, without them.  So mom, dad, Scott, Keith, Rachel, thank you.  I am so fortunate to have such amazing people to turn to for every day strength and guidance to help me/us get by everyday.  I love you.

Stretch it out and bring your Nike's back.  GC's coming up.

TLC

Here Goes Nothing.

Hopefully my first post got your attention and are still with me as I finally take off a mask I have been wearing for quite sometime now, 8+ years to be exact. 

  

  

I am sitting crossed-legged on a pretty comfy high top bar chair, my laptop on the kitchen counter, sipping on a glass of chocolate milk, ear buds in listening to my "Chillin" playlist on Spotify, wearing an over-sized t-shirt and probably about a 10 year old pair of basketball shorts that I like to call pajamas (guys, eat your hearts out), tapping my keyboard as I stare at a blinking cursor wondering how to start this (oh and might I add my heart pounding out of my chest).  I never thought it would be so hard to just start talking about myself, no research, no notes, no lectures, literally typing MY story that has no right or wrong answer.  I think I am so nervous because I have never really showed a vulnerable side so publicly.  I like to think I always seem pretty chill, perky, bubbly, "normal", everything is going well, but the fact I am even saying the word "I" so many times is giving me so much anxiety! Okay, can ya'll tell I am just starting to ramble on?  Avoiding the reason why you are even reading this right now? Tracey, JUST SAY IT.  Well, okay.  Here goes nothing...just going to dive in.  Bare with me as this will probably be a pretty lengthy post but my hopes are that you will stay engaged and dare I say, be anxiously awaiting post #3?  *and since this isn't being graded, let's just skip over any grammar/punctuation/text talk errors. k? k!  

As you probably noticed and maybe wondering why the "ED" is capitalized in the name of my blog, "TLCunmaskED", it is because I am unmasking myself and my secret of battling an eating disorder since 2007 and a small episode in 2005.  Just typing that sentence alone I threw out my ear buds, immediately stopped typing, and placed my hands over my pounding heart as I did not know the emotional reaction I would have by reading that out loud.  My roommate just asked me if I was okay and she said, remember you are doing this to help others, and that is all I needed to hear to get right back to typing (thanks, girl).  My battle has primarily been with bulimia as well as restricting and using other behaviors to numb out the present moment, to numb out who I was, to numb out where I was.  I have had a constant battle with my body and myself, never being comfortable in my own skin, wishing I was someone different or at least liking the person I saw in the mirror.  I would binge and purge, or just purge on what ever I would put in my mouth and at its worst, 7-10 times a day.  I would use exercise as another form of purging if I felt like I had ate too much in a day or if I have not ate at all, still go work out for hours thinking that will help me lose weight faster, because if I at least liked my body, maybe liking myself would come for free.  This did not come out of the blue as I have always been one who loved to work out and be active from a very early age on.  I started playing basketball at age 7, played soccer, softball, tried my whack at tennis, volleyball, I was just born with sports/athletics in my blood.  Growing up, I watched my dad come in from strenuous bike rides and races, jealous of what he had accomplished before the sun came up (remember this for future post to come), always wanting to know how many miles he just rode.  To this day, I know I got my athleticism and passion for an active lifestyle from him as he has now been a cyclist for 45+ years.  Taking it back even further, my grandfather was a football stand out in high school and made his way to Vanderbilt University where he served as a Captain not only on the football team but also his fraternity and snagged a cute little cheerleader while he was at it that later became my grandmother (my both of them rest in peace, love and miss you).  My mom told me stories of how my grandfather after college would only use stairs at work, seeing how fast he could go up them to stay somewhat in shape post football and welp, that sounded way too familiar as I look back on times I have used stairs at work/life every where I go, thinking how many calories I MIGHT have just burned.  So all in all, I have just always LOVED to work out, every gym I have been a part of as become my safe haven, my release, my second home, where I could be me, where I didn't feel judged.  In high school, if I wasn't at school or practice, you knew where to find me.  That is until my relationship with exercise spiraled out of control.  The more I noticed the gratifying feeling I would get after practically killing myself in the gym became my addiction.  It was my drug.   I started to think sweat was the primary factor in losing weight so I would wait and go running during the hottest part of the day, in all black, or go to multiple exercise classes and then do my own personal workout while wearing a sweatshirt to not only cover up my body and shape but to SWEAT.  I would not leave a gym until I was drenched, sweatshirt/long sleeves/t shirt, whatever I was wearing, it had to be either a different color or able to be rung out until I was able to leave.  It's like I had my very own Drill Sargent inside me that was telling me to keep going, and I loved it.  My life revolved around how much SWEAT I could get out of my body, pretending every drop was a negative thought getting out of my sick mind.  And loving to work out, be fit, be healthy is normal right?  So if I did something that was so "normal" and accepting to society, no one would ever question what I was doing, right?  HA.  So I would go until I could not sweat anymore, leaving my insides feeling empty of any emotion.  After the work out, or a purge, I would feel good, so good because instead of dealing with the serious problem at hand, I had ways to avoid the situation and in my mind, with healthy coping mechanisms.  I like to call it my hamster wheel that became my daily routine.  But why wasn't I seeing any results?  Why wasn't I losing the weight I thought I would be?  Why do I not have the perfect body I was so desperately wanting and working for?  I barely let anything digest in my body so how is this possible that I still have fat everywhere, even sometimes more so than before my eating disorder?  So that just triggered and fed my eating disorder even more.  To maybe spend another hour in the gym, to purge a few more times a day, because that would keep me from actually being ME, having to figure who I was outside of working out and being an athlete (again, remember this for later post) because who would want to hang out with some out of shape, lost girl not knowing who she was and what she wanted out of life.  Anyone asking themselves what I did for fun during all of this?  I did not know what fun was.  Sure I still went out with friends but it was so hard to be present because all I could think about was my next workout, or "I could be working out right now, I could be at home purging right now."  Because if I did those things, one day I would love myself enough to actually have fun while being around others.  So, when did this all start?  How did this all start?  WHY did this all start?  Well, if I had the answer I probably would not be where I am right now, right?  I'm sure those who know me are wondering how in the HAAAYELL have I been hiding this for so long? how was I never caught? how did you miss it? why would I put myself through this torture?  Because I was good.  I was reallllly good at having an eating disorder and I was really good at masking my true self.  It thrived off the secrecy. So, why didn't I just stop.  Just stop throwing up, just stop working out so much, just STOP.  Folks, hate to break it to ya, but this shit doesn't work like that.  It is not about my relationship with food, or my body, it is my MIND.  My mind on how it thinks, how it processes things, how it sees things.  Our minds are some pretty powerful objects.  As I say with a chuckle, 'luckily', my mind threw me a HUGE curve-ball that Babe Ruth couldn't even hit.  I say luckily because even though I struck out for 8 years, I'll be damned to say with my head held high I would not even be close to the person I am today, typing these very words, saying with confidence, what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.

Now in this post, my primary purpose was to reveal my secret.  I would say that was a success.  Moving forward, my goal of this blog is not for popularity, for attention, for love, for hate, or for sympathy saying poor me.  It is to continue to take you on my "not so magical carpet ride" (yet) of the past years dealing with this sickness, how I am living a more valued-driven, AUTHENTIC life in recovery today using my passions of fashion, fitness, and food (okay, maybe the last F word isn't quite a passion yet but darn it, 3 F's in a row sounded pretty cool) to stay on track, and MOST IMPORTANTLY, to inspire others that are going through similar situations to know you are not alone and to not be ashamed of whatever storm you are going through.  I want to help you get rid of your shame, as well as mine that is still lingering around, and to get you closer to your sunny days as I am seeing more frequently in my forecast.

Ya'll have NO idea the amount of weight that has just been lifted off of my shoulders.  Friends and family who are hearing this for the first time, please do not hesitate to reach out with any questions/concerns/WTFs?  And for everyone, I am an open book and do not feel like you have to tip toe around me for those who see me in every day life.  There may be judgments, disgusts, praises, one or two continued readers after this, but I could care LESS.  I am doing this for me and my recovery and to all the lives I am hoping to touch and shed some positive light.  This is Tracey and I am ready to start living life as ME.  

So get ready folks, lace up your Nike's and get the ice bath ready because the next stop is a little place I like to call college, Guilford College. I am going to take you on my journey of being a collegiate athlete with an E.D. and back to where IT all began, where IT happened for the first time, where this could have possibly been triggered as early as age 5.  See you on the baseline.

Allow Myself to Introduce... Myself.

Hey y'all!

Yes, y'all is a word and should probably go ahead and get VERY acclimated with it as a Southern girl, born and raised in Rockwell, North Carolina, so often uses in every day talk.  Annnnyways, my name is Tracey Lynn Croner (TLC, thanks mom and dad, so presh.) and I am a small town girl currently living in the big/small city of Charlotte, North Carolina, also known as the Queen City.  I am a twenty-something, outgoing, athletic, single, determined, and can now say, authentic, girl figuring out her place in LIFE.

First off, thank you for checking out my blog and reading my very first post that I never thought I would actually build up enough confidence to create.  This has been a long time coming and never really knew what I could do to set myself a part from the millions of other bloggers out there today.  Well, I knew exactly HOW I could but wasn't ready to share what I really wanted to write about.  For years now, I have been waiting for the perfect time, the perfect moment, to share a very personal journey/struggle/story and finally came to the realization that there will never be THE perfect time.  The ball has always been in my court and I am now ready to play the game.

You may think this is just going to be another fashion, fitness, lifestyle blog where I am going to talk about my every day life, what I wore, where I went for lunch, and selfies of me after a brutally hard workout and hashtagging every gym related word known to man.  Well, okay, maybe some of that is true, but remember when I was wanting to have a story to set me apart from the other bloggers out there?  This is where it happens, this is where the mask comes off and let you in on a secret that I will be forever grateful that is not kept a secret anymore:  THIS is TLC UnmaskED.

*Follow my life through a lens on Instagram: @tcroner*