Eating Disorder Awareness Week

This week has been deemed "National Eating Disorder Awareness" week. That being said, it kind of hits close to home in more than one way.

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I feel as though it is about time to make my story more public. Only a very minute amount of close friends know, as it is a very difficult thing for me to talk about. But it is much easier for me to write about it because I usually write about everything...it is nice to be able to bleed myself onto paper through a pen without having the repercussions of actually opening myself up to another human being only to get hurt..

Well, here's my story:


Back when I was young, I was really into being outdoors all of the time. Hiking, soccer with my cousins, basketball with my siblings, cross country, basically anything that allowed me to expend my energy outside. This type of behavior allowed me to be physically fit (sometimes TOO physically active) and within a healthy weight range.

Then along came high school. No more running, except on days when I had time and wasn't too lazy. I had to quit cross country because it was simply too much to balance with the nerdy marching band season. Eventually, my muscular, athletic build melted away into a jello-y sludge of fat hanging on to my bones. Whenever I walked I could feel it softly bouncing; something incredibly foreign to me. Then my thighs started to grow even more to the point of touching and my hips began to fill out into a more 'womanly' figure. As my metabolism disappeared, so did my self-esteem.

I was only five pounds heavier than I had been, but science has proven muscle weighs more than fat.

With the fat gain, all of the negativity that surrounded me at home, and my crippling anxiety disorder, the only thing I wanted to do was hide. So hide, I did. I became even more of a recluse hiding in my room for 9+ hours at a time (excluding time to sleep) and creating a place of refuge inside my tiny closet. There, I journaled and read until my eyelids became too heavy to hold open. There, I slept. Hidden away from everyone so no one could see my hurt and the shame I felt for letting my body become what it was.

Slowly, I began to limit the amount of food I ate. The only thing on my mind was the irrefutable desire to disappear. Maybe, just maybe, if I ate less and less my body would become less and less...and I would eventually disappear.

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I have a strong desire to keep certain major details concealed, so I'll just skip them.

Anyway, after many hours spent uncontrollably sobbing in my little refuge of a closet I saw the tiny Bible I kept hidden in my "emergency kit." What I told myself was, "whatever page this opens on, I'll read. It can't hurt and it's probably better than crying for the rest of the night." The book opened up somewhere near the middle of Psalms.

I read. I read and I read and I read.

An overwhelming peace like no other came upon me and I began to cry even more. This was a good type of crying. I realized my behavior was not healthy and a few other things besides that, that have become a part of my testimony.

God loves me. He sees me as perfect and beautiful because I have been created in His image. My body was made to endure the natural ebb and flow of minor weight gain, weight loss, muscle gain, and muscle loss. My stomach is made to expand after I eat and that is okay. The "extra fat" around my waist was put there specifically to protect my womanly organs, and will provide protection in the future while my future children are just beginning to grow. My hips have been made to support the weight of growing a child, and what a blessing that is!

I still battle these thoughts. It is a huuuuuge mental struggle for me and sometimes the voice in my head is too loud and I can't hear God constantly telling me that I'm perfect the way I am. The struggle has become more prominent recently and I'm desperately trying not to go back to my old ways of restricting calories.

I have confidence that I will win this battle. Eventually.