IT has been my joy and my challenge to live in Bulgaria through three pregnancies.  I have gained and lost in those years - there was a time when my wardrobe was divided into `before', `during', and `after' the baby.  Those warm phases of motherhood have brought me face to face with cold reality from time to time. Fashionably dressed wisps of women inhabiting clothes shops have been my jury. Their up and down perusal is familiar, as is the humiliatingly effective dismissive glance upon entry into their domain.  "We don't have your size."  They pronounce the verdict in painfully decisive syllables as I waddle from their store. Albeit childish, I have fought the mad desire to stick out my tongue at the grotesquely thin mannequin displayed in their window. 

"Just you wait until it is your turn to carry a secondary heat source," I mutter through clenched teeth. "We'll see who is laughing when your stylishly hip-hugging, size XS jeans have to contend with a bulging stomach that looks and feels like a soccer ball," I hiss under my breath.

The painfully honest truth is that with or without my soccer ball, I sometimes still receive the dreaded `look of dismissal' in Bulgarian clothes shops.  From conversations with many foreigners, it is apparent that others have also fought the urge to kick a mannequin as they leave the store. Typical Bulgarian genes seem to produce slightly built feminine forms. Even on a `thin' day, those clothes will hug my frame differently and shopping becomes a horrendously depressing task.  I know many who avoid the humiliating process by waiting to refurbish their wardrobe upon return to their country of origin.

We watch those willowy, Bulgarian forms float along the Sofia streets every day and in naughty, but tremendously satisfying tones, we plead with Mother Nature to send a good strong wind from Mount Vitosha. (Tongue in cheek, of course). At the same time, fragments of thoughts begin to knock at the door of our hearts: `fat', `pudgy', `large' - terrifying words which we are tempted to apply to ourselves.  We may also begin to feel `unfeminine', `unattractive', `unworthy'.  This temptation to view our waistline with critical eyes is intensified in teenage women whose genetic body package did not come with `waif' stamped on top.  Regardless of our age, the vast majority of women have a driving desire to not only feel attractive, but to also be viewed by others in those terms.  If we succumb to the temptation to judge our value based on the commodity of a culturally dictated definition of beauty, we can begin a downward spiral.

In my country of origin, bulimia and anorexia have scarred the lives of a heart-stopping number of women. As researchers look at the cultural factors that contribute to the development of eating disorders, they commonly cite factors such as: transitional life changes, cultural emphasis on weight, and stress.  There are many others as well, but these specific three factors seem to define reality for each and every foreigner on Bulgarian soil. They are naturally occurring pressures of daily life which are intensified when we move out of the familiar and attempt to transplant ourselves and our families into foreign ground. 

As foreigners, we are bombarded with events and results that we are unable to control.  Sometimes language barriers block our ability to comprehend what is occurring around us even though we are central to the topic.  The diversity of different culture, while intriguing and stimulating can also be terrifying and frustrating.  After years of standing in queues in Eastern Europe, I still find my ire rising and I glare daggers of fire at would-be queue jumpers.  Necessity has developed my elbows into worthy weapons when queue preservation calls.  In a very real way, living in Bulgaria dictates a loss in the level of control with which I can organise my life and daily activities.  It has even changed who I am in ways that I never anticipated.  Those feelings of careening and spinning into the unknown can create a desire and a need to grab control of some aspect of life.  This desire to exert control over something can be an entry point into the struggle with an eating disorder.

I have a list of friends and acquaintances that is much too long. They are people who have struggled with anorexia or bulimia over the past two decades. Most of them have seen their journey through to the other side victoriously. While I rejoice over their happy endings, those stories also motivate me to be more informed. Most of us know someone who has fought this battle. Some readers have personal stories to share. Perhaps some of us are battling this foe right now. It would be a healthy step in the right direction to open a discussion regarding this issue. 

My initial intention was to make this week's column an informative piece on the signs and symptoms of eating disorders.  As the article progressed on my computer screen, I found myself straying from the `nuts and bolts' of the disorder and toward the more personal aspects of how we are shaped, influenced, and pressured by the realities of this Bulgarian culture wherein we find ourselves today. 
There are a host of informative articles on the internet that do deal with the practical aspects of the disorder.  They are the `nuts and bolts', so to speak, of how to recognise and to deal with it in a proactive and healthy manner.  Please let me encourage you to invest some time in researching and learning about this topic. 

To bring today's Family Matters to a close, I would like to open the opportunity for more discussion on the topic of dealing with eating disorders. The Sofia Echo has created a forum for discussion of a plethora of issues related to life in Bulgaria. I want to invite you to openly discuss today's topic within this forum. Simply go to: www.sofiaecho.com/forum. Click on `Sofia Echo' and you will find the topic `Family Matters Column'.  I will meet you there. 

By the way, anybody want to go clothes shopping with me?