All Posts

I wished to reach the stars - that one day, it wouldn’t seem so awful to feel the shape and glow afar. I slipped, and fell into the abyss the darkness enveloping my body, no light in sight, Until I realized, the stars I kept chasing, reaching, were already under my skin – stretch marks I tried to ignore small lights that appeared to be my enemy marked every place I was torn open. What I searched for above me, was the same thing written on me constellations made from damaging

Strength was never who could do the most with the least. Strength is fighting an enemy even when you're exhausted, even when you don't want to because it's hard and because you're not sure. Strength is being able to change your mind on what strength is.

One of the most uncomfortable parts of an eating disorder is coming to terms with it. Everyone has a different experience with vulnerabilty and also with their eating disorder itself, but a common experience for many people with eating disorders is the discomfort of being vulnerable surrounding the eating disorder, making it difficult to discuss this matter with doctors, specialists, or even family members and friends. Unfortuantely, in order to get help you must reach out fo

I see the world beyond the shadows, A world that is bright and free Where people smile and joy fills the air I reach my fingertips out, The orange blaze burning my skin, The doctors tell me, To reach the sky, You must hold yourself to the supreme. Heal your rattling mind full of illnesses, Restore your body of chronic disease, Alleviate those symptoms, And those speeches every day spoken by your broken mind. Those endless talks given by doctors too, “Loose the weight, and you

I eat relatively normally. My weight is in a normal range. I can take a day off from exercising and not have an hours-long panic attack. And yet I’m not recovered. I remember reading at one point that you never recover from an eating disorder, and I feel like that’s true for me. Still, I guess there’s something still in my mind that says ‘I wasn’t that bad, and I’m still not that bad, and if I’m not recovered, it’s only because I never really had an eating disorder to begin w

Dear Bug,  I know how you feel in that Star Wars shirt and I know how you feel in everything else I know seeing yourself in the shirt makes you feel euphoric  Euphoric means feeling pleasured or having intense happiness, bug But I do know that most of everything else you put on makes you feel obscene  Obscene means disgusting, bug I know you are now becoming exposed to the internet You are finally becoming aware of diet culture And of the need to be skinny  But isn’t this som

When dealing with body dysmorphia, an eating disorder, or just simply living your life, DON'T give in to:  Isolation Negative Stereotypes of any kind Self-Doubt, Unworthiness, Exclusion Perfect body-Images on social media Unrealistic beliefs of what is “Normal” Unhealthy eating trends Body-shaming Anything/anyone that does not uplift, celebrate, embrace YOU!

“You’re fat,” said my dad, “Look at your teammates.” I had been playing soccer since I was 5 but at one point I stopped enjoying it completely. The purpose of playing had been lost. My father would tell me I was fat and my body looked wrong repetitively in order to make me go practice and work out. This made me more conscious about my body shape and weight than ever before and my motivation for playing soccer would change until I didn’t even know what it was for anymore. I al

When I started out to write a post about eating disorders in males, the first thing I looked up was the prevalence. And already, I was met with the first misconception—while I knew it was higher than most assume, I thought it would be around ten percent. I was surprised to see that the reality is that about a third of people with eating disorders are male. In fact, ARFID is more likely to occur in males and binge eating disorder is almost equally likely to occur in males or f

Did she too worry about her body? Was she ashamed of how skinny she was? Did she have doctors commenting on her weight too? I hope not. I hope that her body did not stop her dreams, Her passion, Her energy, I hope one day she’ll see how beautiful she is. How her clothes fit her just right, In all the perfect places, And that she’ll stop asking how she looks like. How this color matches her pigmented shiny skin, If she should apply heavy makeup, To look at the tangible mask sh

With the idea of getting diagnosed with an eating disorder, there were two things that stayed in my mind: it will be official that I have this disorder, something so destructive and hard to navigate, but I will finally be recognized and heard for the awful things that I was experiencing. The last part was something that did not happen automatically, and that is unfortunately an experience for a lot of people with OSFED. OSFED (other specified feeding or eating disorders) is a

One of the most confusing parts of recovering from an eating disorder or chronic body dysmorphia is realizing this: your body can change faster than your brain can catch up. Not just emotionally, but also perceptually. Many people in recovery describe a strange experience where they know something has shifted—medically, nutritionally, or behaviorally—but their reflection, sense of size, or internal “map” of their body hasn’t updated. This isn’t denial, vanity, or failure; ins

A new journey to begin from deep within Take all the time you need, no judgement, negativity, pain or self-doubt to proceed Self-love and self-acceptance, this is where you start Practice as needed until they are embedded deep within your heart. Only you get to decide what’s best for you, so choose whatever brings you joy, embrace  all that comforts you and all that is good as only you would. Seize every opportunity to love yourself, to see yourself as the unique, irreplaceab

A long winter felt the nights  when all I had was my  cold, sick body. I felt the snow drop as my insides had fallen out, when my head rested  against the toilet. A searing summer felt the days when I felt as if I was going to die, running away from my feelings. Stinging sweat clung to my full chest, which I wished it not to be. A looming feeling sank  into the bowl of green grapes that I ate at camp, hoping someone noticed that it was the only thing I had eaten all day. I fe

I didn’t think I had an eating disorder. For a while, I was hyper-fixed on them, because I knew there was something there that resonated with me. I would read about them and compare—anorexia? Sometimes, but I was as likely to binge as starve. So bulimia? But I didn’t throw up, couldn’t imagine it. And definitely not binge eating disorder, since the binges weren’t as significant as I would read and would be followed by periods of restriction. While in graduate school, I was of

My body is an echoing cathedral built on shifting ground, its stained-glass windows warping every color into something sharper than light. When I walk inside myself, the floorboards remember every hesitation. They creak with the weight of ghosts I never meant to invite. There is a river that runs through me, thin as a wire, carrying reflections I do not recognize. The water keeps rewriting my silhouette, shaving truths into angles, turning softness into a language I am told I

If you search for "eating disorder" in a stock photo library, you will likely see the same thing over and over: a young, skeletal woman looking sadly into a mirror. While this represents some people's reality, it has created a dangerous myth: the idea that you have to look "sick enough" to have a problem. The Diversity of Struggle The truth is that eating disorders are diverse. They do not have a "look," a "size," or a "weight." Body Size:  Most people struggling with an eati

They taught us the body is a city the gods may enter at will. So I learned early how to lock my gates. Apollo came first— not with plague, but with measure. He laid his lyre across my ribs and said: only what is tuned survives. I listened. Demeter passed me by in winter. Her hands were full, and I pretended not to be starving so she would not stop. I told myself this was discipline. The earth believed me. I counted like a priestess. Seeds. Hours. Bones. Every omission felt li

I watch her every day and I see everything she does. The lunch table hears her murmur about going to the bathroom but only I discern the faint gagging after she disappears to carve her belly whole. The nurses disregard her, painting her emptiness as hunger, but only I hold her hand as she traces the flaring of her ribs. Her boyfriend teases her, squeezing her cheeks and arms, but only I see her falter as she pinches her thighs. I know her thoughts I feel her emotions I see ev