I don’t have Netflix, so I haven’t seen “To the Bone,” the latest “anorexic drama” starring Lily Collins. I don’t think I want to; it looks stupid and stereotypical. But the pictures of Collins, pretty and pale-cheeked in her oversized hospital gown, her face perfectly made up …
I recall being in the fifth grade and wondering why I didn’t resemble the other girls in my class. I did, I was just under the impression that I didn’t. Who I was in my mirror and who I was in photos was not the same entity.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve struggled with my relationship with my body. For the past 23 years, I’ve been actively recovering from an eating disorder. In the past 5 years, I’ve finally felt like I was in a place where recovery wasn’t an active struggle. It isn’t that time finally caught up and I stopped caring about food or my body, or that the eating disorder magically disappeared. What happened is that I started running.
As we enter a new year, I breathe a sigh of relief and release. Last year I was saying “bring on 2017! I can’t wait for this year to be over”... Both 2016 and 2017 made me face many hard truths – truths about my relationship with my mind, my body and my relationships with others...
When I think back to my first few months in eating disorder recovery at Woodstone Residence (now the Looking Glass Residence), I recall being overwhelmed by the intensity and unfamiliarity of my new routine. Stepping into treatment felt like I was an unarmed and untrained soldier being going into battle for the first time.
Do you ever look back on situations, experiences or memories, and feel like you were completely checked out?
Sometimes I wake up and think; have I been asleep for the last 6 months? What have I missed?
When I first went into recovery, I knew that it was going to be a learning curve, but one of the hardest lessons I had to learn was to do with exercise. There had been so much focus on my weight and eating habits in the early stages of my recovery that exercise was anything but in the forefront. It wasn’t until about a year into my recovery that I was faced with a difficult truth: exercise isn’t always healthy.
I remember the first time I learned about eating disorders. My mom bought me an illustrated book called “Woman Up!” from Chapters...
Words are a weapon. Words are medicine. Words can be cruel. Words can be beautiful. The power of language is a gift and a tool entrusted to humanity, and it took a lead role in many of the lessons I learned at this year’s Looking Glass Summer Camp.
As we anticipate the arrival of summer, something that can become thought consuming, is the idea of being beach body ready.