That’s the only word for it. The feeling I had when I was Orthorexic.
How couldn’t I? I had answers. I knew the way forward. All these frustrations people were facing around me. They never knew the answer was in front of them all along. You are made of what you put in your body. The quality of your life, your energy, your appetite, your weight, your alertness, your sleep, your skin… food is one of the biggest influences on how these are for you.
“Why don’t people get this?” I would think. Part of me wanted to help them, part of me used to try very hard to do so. But even if some people listened, people never made the changes they should have. People understand the logic, but fail when it comes to actions.
So I was not only superior because I believed I had better health, a winning formula, an insurance policy of my own… but because I took control of my life. Other people around me let society control their life. People let their dis-satisfaction become the norm. They didn’t believe there was so much to gain from making changes. They didn’t truly believe inside of them they were able. Or maybe they didn’t think they were worthy?
Or maybe they were scared of being different? Taking a risk, experimenting and breaking the norm?
Being different made me proud.
I’m still proud today. I’m proud of my health, but more importantly I’m proud of the journey I’ve gone through and the person I’ve become.
I’m even proud that I have managed to inspire people to change and question what they have been told. Not to become the health freak I was, but to make easier changes, ones which don’t rock the boat too much, ones that last. Ones which most of all have a big enough impact to make that person a little bit happier with their life.
I don’t force advice on people they have to want to change quite badly before I’ll get to carried away now.
I don’t want to fall into the self-righteous rants I used to – I’m proud I’m past that. In fact it’s far more effective because despite my tiny bit of egotistic superiority inside of me, I do feel connected to “normal” people again. I still love healthy lifestyle design.
But I’m not a health “freak” anymore. I live an extremely exciting and abnormal life in the sense that I’m constantly exploring new places, hobbies, people, foods, ideas… new things excite me. But whilst I like to live abnormally I can now connect with “normal” people, and they can connect with me.
What I would like you to ask yourself is, what is the cost of being superior?