I used to feel betrayed by my body, like she was constantly trying to undermine every effort I made to change her. I always thought that if my body loved me, and was working for me, then why wouldn't she do what I wanted her to do? Why didn't she look the way I wanted her to look? I was never taught that she was on my side.
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.
Trigger Warning: the following materials may be triggering for some individuals - please read with caution.
How do you make someone else understand exactly what it’s like to hate yourself? They usually just don’t get it and the conversation ends up as something like this:
“There must be something about yourself that you love.. Or at least like”
“I mean, I get good grades, so I guess I’m not a complete idiot”
Photo by Cooper Smith on Unsplash
Starting my recovery was the hardest decision I ever made, but I was thankful to have a supportive and trusting person by my side. My partner was the first person I ever opened up to about my eating disorder. Before them, like many, I was very secretive and ashamed of my disorder. Recently, that relationship has ended and as hard as it has been, re-entering the dating world has proven to be even more difficult.
TRIGGER WARNING: the following material may be triggering for some individuals. Please read with caution.
Who is “the media”?
Is it the morning news that I used to watch while I ate my Cheerios? Is it the fitness magazines that I desperately consumed all through middle school and high school? Is it The Biggest Loser or What Not To Wear or To The Bone? Is it the weight loss books that I checked out of my local library? Is it those infuriating Beachbody ads I keep seeing on Facebook? Is it Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram?