Wanting to look good almost cost me my health

I’ve always been interested in health and fitness. As an active kid, I did everything from swimming to ballet but as I got older, my body started changing and the need to look good took over. What made me push myself to look good stemmed mostly from social media but coupled with the thought of wearing a swimsuit all summer, doing whatever it took to rock the bikini put me in a dangerous position.

I always wanted to look like other women I saw when I scrolled through Instagram, but this year it nearly cost me my health.

“Why not workout harder?”

I had a lot of free time after my first semester of college, so I thought, “Why not workout harder? I have nothing else to do but sit all day.”

So I did. My daily workout routine involved a morning run, then some other form of high intensity workout in the evening. I started feeling a pain on my hip, but continued to exercise — which made the pain worse. Thinking it was just sore, I treated it with painkillers and ice packs for a couple weeks, but it wasn’t going away and I started limping pretty bad. Like any good millennial, I Googled my symptoms and self-diagnosed myself with a hip flexor strain.

My self-diagnosis was strike one.

My summer from hell

Two vacations were lined up for the summer, the first of which was a trip to New York City. Though excited, I wasn’t looking forward to all the walking.

I spent my days seeing family and friends and doing all the touristy things you’re supposed to do in NYC. It was all amazing and I smiled through it, but deep inside I was dying as I continued to use my hip walking, biking and exploring.

Next up was a trip to Greece. I kept telling my family about the pain, but I don’t know how seriously it was taken because I was still pushing myself to be so active. “Get some sun, swim and it will go away,” they told me. If only that worked.

But I didn’t want to sit in the sun. I wanted to finally see a doctor. Everyone up until now had told me to rest, but I didn’t want to hear it from them — I wanted a professional to tell me. I know I shouldn’t have, but I did continue to exercise the entire time.

Two weeks later I saw an orthopedic doctor, which was scary and frustrating.

He told me to take stronger painkillers and, most importantly, to not move. The drugs were so strong and calmed my muscles so much that they made me feel tired — but I felt good again. I felt like it the injury was going away.

Because my hip was starting to feel better, I wound up at a two-day music festival which obligated me to walk around everywhere and stand for over six hours at a time. I didn’t feel any pain in my hip while taking the drugs from my doctor, so I decided they were no longer necessary. Strike two.

 As soon as the pills stopped, the pain came back and I was scared again. I didn’t know what was going on with my body. That day I decided to book an appointment for an MRI. I just needed someone to care and look after me.

A day after undergoing the MRI, I got a call from the doctor. He told me I might have a hip fracture and could need surgery. I was instructed not to move until I got the results. My heart was beating so fast that I started to cry on the phone. I hung up and broke into tears.

I spent the next few days crying in bed over the entire situation.

My hip suddenly became my entire life – it was the only thing anyone would ask me about.

“How is your hip?”

“Are you okay?”

“What happened?”

All I could reply was “Yes, I’m okay.” But I wasn’t okay, neither emotionally nor physically.

The results finally came in and I was reassured surgery wasn’t necessary — the scans showed that I had a stress fracture. I felt relieved but not enitrely happy as I’d have to use crutches for the next month.

All I wanted to do was break down in tears again.

The (long) road to recovery

I was a completely different person because of my injury. I was unable to do everything from before the injury without being terrified that I’d make it worse. While traveling back home, I had to use a wheelchair, which was incredibly frustrating — I didn’t want to be pushed around, I wanted to walk on my own.

After being on crutches for three weeks, the pain had already started to fade and I was told I could ditch the crutches. Though they’re gone, I’m still always worried the pain will come back so I’m careful with every step. After limping all summer, even walking normally is difficult.

What I realized through this journey is that things might look good and seem okay on the outside, but that doesn’t mean things are fine where it really counts. It made me open my eyes and realize how crucial it is to need to listen to my body. Being healthy on the inside is the key.

I think all women should to start accepting what we have and not think we need look like the women in the magazines and the perfect models on our Instagram feeds. Healthy is a much sexier look.