I love sharing my story, I love telling people about my struggles, I love making sure that people know that there IS a way to swim out of whatever they are drowning in.
I used to be 96lb. Yes, 96. I’m 5’5″. I was a chubbier kid than most little girls, didn’t think it was normal, and started taking action when I was 13. I can honestly say that my life was so dark, there had to be demons following me. I firmly believe in the spiritual realm because I have seen and felt so much from it, both good and bad.
It started small, choosing to eat half of my meals instead of all of it. No one picked up on it for a long time. I didn’t understand how I could still look the same exact way, while eating HALF of what I was used to, all the while playing soccer and volleyball, AND running on the days when I didn’t have practice. It made no sense……the thing is, it only made no sense to me because I didn’t CHOOSE to see the difference. Every time I looked in the mirror I wanted to burst into tears. The deep loathing I had for myself was so overwhelming, I decided to take things a little further.
That’s when I decided to go ahead and skip meals altogether. No sweets, no sugar, no soda, eating MAYBE one full meal a day. That’s also when people started to pick up on things. Everyone else was seeing me waste away, yet all I could see was the same chubby, soft, fluffy girl in the mirror.
Our perception of ourselves is so overrated and false. I will occasionally meet people nowadays (working in health and fitness) who have never worked out a day in their lives and can honestly and happily sit down with me and tell me that they absolutely love themselves and don’t really have anything they would really love to change about their bodies, they just want to start working out because they want to be healthy and live a long life. And all I can do is sit there and say WOW to myself. They have NO IDEA what they have accomplished! And they don’t even know it! I’m STILL working towards that road and sometimes it feels like I will never. ever. get. there.
My mom finally started to pick up on some of my eating habits. Noticed that I would “eat in my room” a lot, claim that I already ate, or refuse meals altogether because I didn’t feel good or wasn’t hungry. Every time I was confronted about it, I insisted that everyone was making things way too big of a deal and that I was perfectly fine. Naturally, it stuck for a while but eventually something had to change because I then had a microscope on me, especially because at that point I was going days and days without eating anything but a few crackers, threw my food away, wasted tons and tons of food. Now looking back, I can’t believe how much I wasted, not only the food, but people’s time and efforts, and I didn’t care at all.
That’s when bulimia became captive to my thoughts. I remember just thinking about it, it disgusted me, it scared me, it was my only choice at the time. If I was going to continue, I had to be more sneaky about it. I could give up food altogether for days, easy. But still living with my family, it wasn’t an option anymore. Binging and purging? Was this really what I had come to? I had convinced myself that it was my only option. Little did I know that it would make me hate myself so much more……


