Welcome to the blog space of the Looking Glass community, where we post our own and others’ reflections and perspectives on eating disorder issues, journeys of recovery, and other helpful tips and tools.
On Friday April 6th, we hosted our 14th Annual Fundraising Gala — and what a beautiful, love-fuelled night it was! Over 300 guests joined us at the Rocky Mountaineer Station for this year's event, whose hopeful theme was All You Need Is Love.
Q: I feel really adamant about not letting my family doctor know about my eating disorder but my family has basically given me an ultimatum that either I have to tell him or they will because they feel my health is at risk. I am not sure what to do.
It's been nearly ten years since I recovered from my past eating disorder.
This fact hit me the other day and I must admit, it made me very proud of myself. Proud of the work I did in that time of my life to better my future. It's strange; I feel so far removed from that part of my life, and feel like I am a completely different person looking back on that experience. My life is far beyond what I imagined was possible when I was 18, and my past self would be amazed at where I am today; not because of anything specific I've done that has been truly incredible, more so that I'm a functioning, independent adult who enjoys life and has ambitions. Yet that time of my life was a huge part of my developmental years and it would be unreasonable to completely dismiss it, as it is a part of my identity.
Self-Love has been a major buzz topic that has come up over the past few years. The fact that there is so much attention being paid to this term signals that people are very interested in, and intrigued by, the idea of loving… ourselves?
A catalytic moment in my recovery was when I realized that I had been trying too hard to assimilate my present and future with my past. What does this mean?
Q: I keep hearing that recovery is about taking little steps forward but every step feels overwhelming. What should I do?
A: There are so many different messages we hear during recovery about what we have/need/should do to make recovery our reality.
As I am sitting here on an early Wednesday morning, one hand holding my coffee and the other tapping furiously away on the keyboard, I am reflecting on how my body feels in the current space it occupies...
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.
Looking Glass Foundation respectfully acknowledges that our work takes place on the unceded traditional territories of the xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), and səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) Nations.
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