When Wendy Met Alice

 It was a happy beginning---no endings in sight---to a fairytale.
I am Wendy and I was feeling so alone. No one understood me. No one really got what was happening. I don't even think I fully understood what was happening. But I knew I needed to reach out. I knew I needed to muster up some courage and find someone who would be able to understand me.
And I did. I found her. And just like me, her fairytale was a basket case being juggled by a pinata-hitting child. Yes, folks, what I mean by that is we are all a little bit unstable. I'm surprised you didn't gather that directly from my so awesomely stated analogy. Wow. Ok, back to the point.

Her name is Alice. And she is looking for Wonderfulland.
She struggles. Don't we all struggle? I met her through the good ol' World Wide Web after realizing we fight similiar battles. Her wounds looked very similiar to mine and I found my courage to try reaching out to her because I had a feeling---a feeling like this might change my life.

I met Alice one day---in real life. And I've re-met her many times since then because she is now one of my closest friends.
My original belief was correct. The experiences I've had in the last few months have been life changing and I owe a lot of that to Alice.
I owe almost all of that to Alice.

Alice is an eating disorder conquerer. Alice is a WoPA. Alice is a warrior. Our commonalities kind of suck because we have a lot of crap in common---but that's ok. Because Alice helps me fight. She keeps me brave when I don't want to be brave. She teaches me about resilience and love and laughter---oh my goodness, she teaches me about laughter.

On a cloudy Friday afternoon in April, I was laying in the grass in Alice's backyard, watching the clouds move back and forth, and I felt it. For the first time in months, I felt peace. It was in that grassy spot, laying next to my warrior sister, being attacked by a miniature guard dog, that I had a prompting that things were going to be ok. Whatever crap Peter throws my way, I can handle it because I learned that day that peace can be mine no matter what.

Throughout these past few months, Alice has been there when I needed her most. She has talked me through Peter's return to Neverland. She has talked me through my feelings of worthlessness. She has talked me through some of my late night demon sessions---stupid late night demons need to get the hell out of my life.

And when Alice struggles, I am there. And if I can't be there, I say a prayer. Because I look at Alice and I see a queen. I see so much worth in her and I hate seeing her struggle. It doesn't matter what struggles she faces, for some darn reason, I hate it. I can hardly stand it.

Alice shows me what bravery is. That girl has stared hell in the face and she still stands. She still loves. She still dreams.
Brave people choose to stand after they're punched in the gut with a sledgehammer. It might take days or weeks or years but eventually, they stand.
Alice has proven time and time again that she plans to keep standing and I love her a little more each time she does.

A few weeks ago, Alice gave me a challenge. She challenged me to open up to the people I am most afraid of right now---my parents. The second she said it, I knew it was something that needed to happen. But I put it off. And then I put it off again. I was so scared.
But last week when shit got real here, I knew I couldn't put it off much longer. I knew I needed Alice to walk me through this brave, life-changing step.

And she did.

She proofread the letter that I wrote them. She changed some of it. She told me what I needed to prepare for. And then tonight, I handed it over to them.

I handed over a letter to my parents explaining that I am knee deep, struggling with my eating disorder.

I've been shaking most of the night. I don't know if they've read it yet but I assume they have. And because she is my warrior sister, Alice will go with me this weekend to have a talk with my parents to further explain all of this mess.

I'm scared.

I keep thinking of all of the horrible scenarios in my head. I keep thinking about abandonment or hovering or broken boundaries or heartbreak and I just want to run away. But I won't.

I have Alice here and she promises never to abandon me. She promises she will always be my friend. And I believe her.

I'm often worried that people will leave me. This isn't something that happened after Peter left. I've struggled with abandonment my whole life---with almost no explanations as to why. I can see it now as a struggle with insecurity because I've never felt good enough. Peter leaving just magnified the problem.

But tonight, I am focusing on my trust in Alice. I am focusing on how brave she has taught me to be these past few months.

I heard a song tonight that reminded me of Alice. The chorus drew me in because I felt like that is what Alice would be singing to me, if she were sitting on my couch tonight (Gosh, I wish she were sitting on my couch tonight...I hate being alone).
"Cause I have been where you are before. And I have felt the pain of losing who you are. And I have died so many times but I am still alive."

I'd keep writing most of the night to show you how much Alice has influenced my life for good but I am still trying to process through knowing my parents' lives are changing tonight too. Sleep needs to happen soon so I can find peace with the decisions that has already been made.

But I'll leave you with the words to the song I quoted above.


Alice has taught me that God is real because I know He placed her in my life for a reason---or maybe a hundred reasons. He loves me. I feel it tonight. He loves me enough to provide relationships that teach me bravery. He loves me enough to send earth angels to my door when I am too weak to do this all on my own.

Thank you for becoming my partner in crime, Alice. I couldn't do this without you.