What does it mean to have a big life?

Big life/small life/medium life/beautiful life

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A big life. I heard the expression - or the expression stuck with me for the first time - in eating disorder recovery.

“Life gets big,” somebody said.

“I have such a big life,” someone else proclaimed.

What does it mean?

I don’t have a ton of regrets, but I do feel sad that my eating disorder made my life small for many years. My eating disordered brain told me that my real life could start in an imaginary future when I was both extremely skinny and miraculously cured. A real regret is that unlike a lot of my friends, I didn’t study abroad in college. It was some deeply fucked up thinking that I was too fat for such adventures. I genuinely believed that if I could wrap myself in a cocoon and fix myself, I’d get to emerge and lead the shiny butterfly life I longed for.

In recovery, I learned there is no cocoon - only time/life/experiences passing me by if I choose to wait them out from the safety of my bed. My imperfect body is perfect for taking me through this one wild, precious life.

This is it.

Right here, right now.

I’m eating my leftovers (obsessed with this salmon rice bowl) and typing at my desk.

I thought a lot about a big life last weekend. My husband Tony watched the kids and the dog at home while I had a NYC weekend to celebrate a friend’s 40th birthday out on the town. We wore sparkly clothes. We drank Champagne and ate truffled burrata. Then we went to see Toshi Reagon preform a sort of spiritual/rock opera inspired by Octavia Butler's sci-fi novel Parable of the Sower at Joe’s Pub. It left me in tears. It took my breath away.

(We also set next to Roxane Gay! Eek. I absolutely fangirled her. She was kind and gracious and even asked about my writing. I was immediately deeply embarrassed, but my lovely friend assured me I didn’t make as big of a fool of myself as I worried.)

I listened to these incredible musicians share their earth-shaking prophecies with their booming honey voices and thought: this feels big.

For me big things include writing books, speaking to crowds of people, traveling to far away places, standing on mountaintops, c-suite jobs in corner offices, meeting Roxane Gay.

But they also include small things, the unfolding of my life. Hugging my friend and seeing her joy. A springy curl that Julius has right in the center of his forehead. Simone resting her head on my lap. A crisp page in my new planner. Cinnamon on my frothy cappuccino. Perfect pears in the grocery store.

After the show, I savored a rare opportunity to sleep in and read “The Bee Sting” in bed. I took a bath in the hotel room and a long walk in the rain. I missed my family a lot while also appreciating the break from the relentless chime of “mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy.” I thought: which is better, this fancy NYC weekend or a weekend walking Ace and smelling Tony cook bacon and wrestling Julius into his diaper and taking deep breaths during meltdowns?

There is no better, really. I am enormously lucky to have them both as part of my life. They are both real life. They both feel essential. They both fill my heart. They both feel big.

My life is bigger than 18-year-old Hannah ever could have imagined.

Raising these kids.

Writing these words.

Cooking this salmon.

Folding this laundry.

Loving my people.

City walks.

Country walks.

Crying in the car after preschool drop-off. (Lolz but not.)

Laughing so hard it hurts.

Reading for 5 minutes before I fall asleep.

This is my big life.

xo,

Hannah

PS Here’s what to drink with salmon, according to lots of badass women wine experts, for Wine Enthusiast.

PPS Hannah Selinger and I are teaching Food Writing 101 on Feb 15! Join us and get $25 off with promo code “FriendofHannah.”

PPPS I tried on a lot of lotion and am now extremely moisturized.

PPPPS Here’s me and Simone last year. She’s so much bigger now!