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Hi.

My name is Madelyne Riley, welcome to my blog. Anorexic turned foodie, I'm here to champion eating disorder recovery and body positivity.  I'm having my cake, eating it too, then going back for seconds.  

I Drank Poison on Purpose.

I Drank Poison on Purpose.

I’ll admit that the title of this is a bit dramatic, but do you see the glass that I’m holding?  It’s full of beer.  Do you know what I’m allergic to?  Beer.  To be specific, I’m allergic to hops, which ya know, is in all beer.  Why am I drinking it, you ask?  I wish I knew.

I attended my very first Girl Creative event at Lynlake Brewery last Monday. Girl Creative is fantastic, think of it as a networking group in Minneapolis where the objective is friendship.  All of these potential new friends are ladies, and describe themselves as creative, and there are monthly meetups that you don't have to do any of the planning for, you just show up.  It’s wonderful.  It’s a dope organization that I would love to say more about, but I’m still new so I don’t know that much and you’re here to read about the intentional self-poisoning anyway.

Let’s set the scene, it’s Monday evening, I just got off of work.  I had heard of Girl Creative, but never attended and event.  I was going solo, I didn’t know anyone there, or at least I didn’t expect to know anyone (as it turns out I did know a few, bad-ass ladies tend to find each other) and the stress of the unknown was starting to sink in.  I walked in, climb the stairs to the roof (yes this is a rooftop event because Girl Creative is all class), and open the door to fifty or so beautiful, fashionable, very confident looking women.  And what do I do?  I head to the bar, because I need my prop. I feel awkward and uncomfortable, and for whatever god-awful reason, holding a glass helps assuage that internal gut-wrenching weirdness.  I wish it didn’t, but it does.  Remember though, we’re at a brewery.   Breweries serve beer.  What am I allergic to again?  Beer.  What do they have listed on their chalkboard menu?  Just beer.  Now here’s the part where I should have asked the bartender if they had any non-alcoholic beverages on their rooftop bar.  Because they had to have, right??  Just because they didn’t write them out does not mean they don’t have them.  And even if they don’t, why not ask?  What’s there to lose??  For whatever reason, maybe because I was alone and self-conscience, I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to seem picky or needy in front of all of these intimidating female folk that could maybe possibly someday be my best friend and I didn’t want to ruin that by being the diva at the bar.  Because asking for water is too “extra,” I guess??  In writing this, the ridiculous nature of the made up problem I had invented for myself is sinking in. In that moment though, I decided that the physical discomfort of a hops allergy was less than the emotional discomfort of not holding a glass, so I ordered whatever sounded the least hopy and hoped for the best.

This was not a good idea.  It turns out, simply asking if they had any other options is better than drinking something that you know you’re allergic to and feeling sick for hours afterwards.  I will say for the record that I did have a lovely time and cannot wait to go again next month, but for fuck’s sake, I’ll just get water.  It’s not that hard.

I came home with a terrible stomach ache and admitted to my husband that it was because I had half of a beer. He could not understand why I had done that, and neither could I.  Do I really care that much about what other people think of me?  Why??  I suppose it could be considered a sign of growth, the carbs and calories were not a concern of mine whatsoever.  I don't know though, that seems like a stretch. 

I’ll spend the week doing self-reflection.  In the meantime, the moral of the story is don’t drink poison.  It’s okay to feel uncomfortable sometimes, no one will judge you.  And even if they do, try to remember that it doesn’t matter.  It really, truly, honestly does not matter.  Go out, have fun, meet new friends, and don’t poison yourself.

 

Skirting the Issue

Skirting the Issue

I don't know how many calories are in this, but I know other things.

I don't know how many calories are in this, but I know other things.