When I Realized 'Anorexia' Wasn't a Dirty Word

“Anorexia” is a word I used to shy away from. It sounded so harsh and shameful coming or of my mouth. I though it was this label that would degrade my worth, but through years of battling it and years in recovery, I have come to a place where I realize anorexia is not a dirty word. I am not defined by my anorexia and it doesn’t make me any less of a person. In fact, I believe it has made me a better person.

My unhealthy relationship with food and my body began when I was 11 and developed into anorexia nervosa when I was 14. I tried to hate my body into becoming something I would love. I measured my worth in numbers: my weight, how many calories I ate or burned, hours spent exercising, the size of my clothes — and I never measured up. I had impossible standards for myself which led to so much hatred and insecurity. My mind became consumed by thoughts of food and weight loss, I was controlled by my need to be perfect. Even as the number on the scale got smaller and smaller, I couldn’t see myself as anything but a failure.

I shut out the people who loved me in order to protect the very thing that was slowly killing me. I thought my eating disorder gave me control and a sense of purpose and identity. I didn’t see the deadly consequences, or I guess I chose to ignore them. I convinced myself the pain, the hair loss, the lack of energy, the depression, the fear, the dizziness, the emptiness — was worth it. It felt like giving up my life was worth it. Thankfully I have a family who saw through my deception and my lies that I was “fine” and just trying to be “healthy.” My incredible parents made the very difficult decision to send me to inpatient treatment in Arizona during my freshman year of college — and it saved my life. I started to learn how to eat again. I learned recovery was possible. I learned tools and steps to face and overcome my biggest fear in order to get my life back.

Anorexia isn’t something I chose, but recovery is something I have to choose every single moment of every single day. I thank God everyday that He never gave up on me and that He gave me a family and friends who never will either. I could not have begun recovery alone. I had to learn how to ask for support and then let those people help me.

I am a Christian and I have anorexia, but the two are not mutually exclusive. I believe God has led me through this terrifying path so I can help other people.

Eating disorders or any mental illness are nothing to be ashamed of. You are an amazing, brave warrior for fighting this battle!