by Morgan Morin
At the age of 14, I advised my mom not to expect a son-in-law or grandchildren from me. “Who says I want to get married and have kids, Mom?” I quipped. Now, at the age of 26, with a wonderful husband and two young children, I have to laugh. A lot can change in 12 years.
Reading Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged at peak middle school angst didn’t do me any favors. I was captivated by the allure of protagonist Dagny Taggart: a high-achieving, competent railroad executive. Dagny is hard, thin, strong, always makes efficient linear progress, and looks down upon emotion, which she sees as weakness.
InthespiritofDagny,Ihardenedmybodyandmindthroughcompetitiverunningandrestrictedmyeatingtothepointof severalyearsofamenorrhea.AnendocrinologistwarnedmethatImighthavetroublegettingpregnantinthefuturewithouthormonetherapy.Iwasyoungandtheconsequencesofthispathdidn’thithome.InowrealizeIwasusingthesemethodsofcontroltoresistfemininityandwomanhood,whichfeltfartoounpredictable,cyclical,andencumbered.IwasafraidofwhatwouldbecomeofmeandmydreamsifIletwomanhoodovertakeme.Runningandrestrictede
