Although not everyday is great in terms of recovery, everyday is a learning experience. A day for me to grow into who I am becoming as I slowly start to separate who I was and who I became as I was entrenched in an eating disorder. It is truly amazing to see who I was when I look back nearly six months ago. When I see pictures I cringe at what I now see when back then I only saw what I wanted to believe. I cannot believe how far I have come. And the craziest thing about recovery is that once you have gotten past the hardest part of meal plans and weight gain, you realize that the way you felt and the restrictive life you were living was not how you are supposed to live. I was not supposed to feel like I was hit by a truck everyday. Trust me, I did not even realize I felt that way until I no loner felt that way. I was not supposed to feel weak from lack of nutrition and I was not supposed to be cold in layers and layers of clothes. I was not supposed to fear food. I was not supposed to wear clothes that are meant to fit girls three years younger than me. I am not meant to live my life day in and day out dreading the next meal, or what I might have to eat for dinner.
When I first began to notice the weight gain in the beginning of my recovery, looking at old pictures of myself at a lower weight was always a trigger. But now, I look back at those pictures and find strength. At one time, I thought and believed that I looked better at a lower weight. But I realize now that I looked unhealthy, lifeless, and sick. My eyes were sunk in, my bones protruded too far, and I looked worn and tired constantly.
One of the places that I have struggled with weight gain is my face. About three months into the weight gain process I had become extremely self-conscious about it. Often times I thought that it was very noticeable and that immediately people would think that I had gained weight, or in extreme thoughts, “gotten fat”.
It was not until a couple of weeks ago, when I finally voiced my concerns to my therapist, that I began to release any anxiety I had towards looking “different” than before when it came to my face. I am not sure why, but the simple act of mentioning it and admitting that I was struggling with that piece of body image made it easier to accept and embrace.
Is my face fuller? Yes. But is that a good thing? Yes.
And you know what one of the best things about recovery is?
No? Well, let me tell you.
One of the best and most rewarding things is when you finally begin to relinquish control of what you can’t change, what you can’t create to be perfect and precise, and what you can’t have. I don’t miss my depleted cheeks and sunken eyes anymore. I can’t change the way God made me, but the good thing is, I don’t want to.
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