TRIGGER WARNING: This blog contains mention of eating disorder symptoms, weight, and potentially triggering language - please read with caution.
This post is structured after the song “Your Ex-Lover is Dead” by Stars. Names have been changed, or used with informed consent.
“God That Was Strange to See You Again”
A few years ago, I started to reconsider whether telling my personal story of recovery is productive to the effort to reduce the social stigma and shame that has been problematically linked to eating disorders.
TRIGGER WARNING: the following material may be triggering for some individuals - please read with caution.
A big part of finding myself during my recovery was developing a personal style. I had always liked clothing, but had never really identified what I liked to wear. I knew I loved colour but I never knew where to shop for it and, more often than not, I was too scared to wear the things I liked because I feared the judgement I would or would not receive. Oh how times have changed. Now I dress for me and only me and I love every single item I own.
Photo bySam MannsonUnsplash
Ten years ago I began to see signs in a different language–signs that I ignored. However, even though I disregarded them, they persisted in ever growing intensity. Was I a traveler exploring this vast world of ours? No. I was just a mom who held down a part time job while homeschooling my two daughters full time. So, what were these foreign signs? They were the signs of my youngest daughter’s journey down the rabbit hole we call eating disorders.
Identity is such a hard concept to grasp. Who are we? Why are we here? What defines us? What defines me?
What defined me for so long was a debilitating illness known as anorexia. Anorexia was me. I was anorexia. That was my identity.