A Light through the Cracks: A Climber's Story

by Beth Rodden

My anxiety kept me wide awake, and my wakefulness in turn meant I had nothing but space and time for the anxiety to spin itself tighter in my body.

I thought, magically, that the pounds might protect me from bad people and bad thoughts. But they just filled me with neurotic self-loathing. I hated my hips. I hated the rolls of fat on my belly.

I knew I was going to hate myself, hate how I felt, hate Tommy, hate the world, but I couldn’t stop. I hated that feeling too.

If you loved someone else, why not just leave? I had thought it was simple, clear-cut, just like everything in life: a right way and a wrong way. I was so naive. For me, there was nothing simple about ending a marriage.

But you married the nicest-seeming guy on earth, and you two always seemed so perfect. That must make it so much harder!” She was right. I’d heard that from so many people: We were living the dream. Tommy was the nicest guy ever. Who would walk away from that?