This holiday season was one for the books. Not because I made some super awesome dish, or because I managed to not get into a political argument with anyone, or because I won all the games that we play in an overstuffed haze after dinners.
This December 2018 was monumental for me because on the car ride home to Chicago, I realized that I had not once asked my sister or my mom if I looked fat, or even how I looked at all.
You know what I hate about social media?
HINT: It’s kind of obvious.
I hate that the VAST majority of what we see on social media is a highlight reel or sometimes just completely fake.
Do you know how many times I’ve posted a smiling face when I’ve felt nothing but anxiety or depression or boredom?
Do you know how many times I’ve posted a photo of a smiling couple who paused from fighting only to snap a selfie?
Do you know how often I actually LOOK like those perfectly made-up, and impeccably lighted selfies that make it into my feed?
My disordered relationship with food has been the longest relationship I’ve ever had. We’re going on two decades now. But I’m finally at a place in my life where I’m the one who has more control—most of the time.
It’s been a long journey with a lot of missteps. The good news is, the lows caused by my eating disorder get higher all the time.
After about 20 years of this relationship, I’m ready to share this post, which is a brief history of me, my eating disorders, and this red dress.
This photo popped up on my Facebook feed recently. You know the kind—the ones that make you remember how your gravitational pull used to be thirty pounds lighter, and how that cute little dress you got in China used to look on you, and how happy—oh how utterly happy, and carefree you were!
This photo did immediately make me think that I needed to go on a crash diet to lose 30lbs, well let’s say 40 so I could BEAT my goal weight, and work out twice a day so that I could have more energy—just look at that image—she has so much energy!
It beams from her!
It was only three years ago after all, how could you have let yourself go so quickly
This post has to happen.
I have a confession to make.
It’s something I’ve been trying to keep from everyone during every hour of everyday.
It’s a life-sucking secret that I try to cover up, and I am scared to death that my friends, boyfriend, family, and complete strangers will find out.
I’m afraid if you find out, you won’t like me any more because you’ll see me for who I really am.
But it has to come out so I can stop being afraid of it being revealed.