(Trigger Warning – Disordered Eating, Sexual Content, and Substance Abuse)

Originally Published May 18, 2023

“If you ain’t eating right, you ain’t thinking right”

It’s October 2003, and I am 14 years old. I’m in the back of the class, flirting with my lifelong crush and new boyfriend. I have had the hots for this bad boy since I started kindergarten, and I can’t believe we are dating – I just want to be as cool as him.

When I start talking to him, he reaches his hand out and pinches my lower stomach. He looks at me and tells me that I am getting a little bit fat. My face turns bright red, and I instantly feel embarrassed and ashamed. All I want to do is run away and be anywhere else with anyone else. But the damage is already done. I could never unhear his rude and hurtful comments.

Mind you, I was a tiny 3 sport athlete that barely had an ounce of fat on me. Nevertheless, in my mind, if the guy I am in love with thinks I’m fat, it must be true.

At that moment, I stopped listening to myself and started listening to others’ opinions instead. I lost who I was and began to develop really unhealthy and dangerous coping mechanisms. I became very insecure and self-conscious. From then on, I made it my goal to get as skinny as possible. My disordered eating had officially begun.

This was not the only incident that caused me to develop a poor body image and insecurities. The year before, when I was in 7th grade, it became clear that my leg muscles were abnormally large. I love them now, but I hated them in my youth. One day before summer break, a boy in my class said to me, “Your leg muscles are way too big. You look like a boy.” This fucked me up.

I also had a scary choking experience that affected me psychologically. It all started when I choked on a chicken nugget at 11. I felt as though it damaged my throat and that it would swell up when I tried to eat in public. It was actually just my nerves and anxiety, but at the time, I was convinced there was something wrong with me. It was the worst when I went to restaurants with friends and family. I would get nervous to eat and move my food around on the plate instead of eating it.

I felt so strongly that something was going on that I made my mom take me to multiple doctors and the hospital for X-rays. The tests always came back clear, but I didn’t believe the results. From that point on, I became a hypochondriac and always thought there was something medically wrong with me. I realized the best way to get love and affection from my busy mom was to be sick. So, a long string of illnesses and disorders clouded my adolescence.

From the age of 14 to 24, I struggled with anorexia and bulimia. I was trapped in a sick cycle of restricting my eating, then binge eating and puking it back up. I would get a rush from filling myself to the brim with food, then hit the toilet and stick my finger down my throat so I could puke it all back up. Sometimes I would throw up so hard I would burst blood vessels in my eyes and pull muscles in my neck. I always had to wash my hands over and over so they wouldn’t stink like vomit.

When I wasn’t binging and purging, I was starving myself. I would get so lightheaded from not eating I would be close to fainting. I would stop eating as long as I could and turn extremely pale. Then, after days of not eating, I would get so hungry I would go crazy and binge eat. It was like I couldn’t stop. Then the guilt kicked in, and I would puke over and over until my stomach felt empty again. It was a fucked up obsessive cycle I couldn’t find my way out of.

I would also spend hours staring in the mirror and pinching my stomach, cheeks, thighs, and arms. The more I stared, the fatter I looked. I would scream and cry and wish I could just be skinny enough. Then, I would plan my next starve-athon and promise myself that I could stick to it this time. But no matter how thin I got, it was never enough. I became a perfectionist with impossible standards.

Essentially, I had body dysmorphia and thought I was much larger than I was when I looked in the mirror. I always felt so big and fat that I would get doctor’s excuses so I didn’t have to do certain gym activities at school. We had a rock climbing wall and ropes course that required partner activities and lifting each other. I would do everything I could to avoid it. When the teacher would tell me it was my turn, I would make excuses or ask for bathroom breaks.

Exercise was always a must for me. My anxiety was so loud I couldn’t even feel my body, which led to me frequently getting injured from overdoing it and pushing myself too hard. There were many times during my three athletic seasons that my friends were concerned about my extreme dieting and would tell my coaches to speak with me. I always got upset and defensive when they did, denying my problem. Now, I know they were just worried, but I felt attacked back then. I was very unstable and sick.

My family also expressed concerns. At home, I would crank the music as loud as I could so I could puke up my meals. My sister would pound on the door and yell at me to stop. I would get angry and scream for her to mind her business and leave me alone.

I started seeing a doctor for my disordered eating at the age of 16. He suggested medication that would help me feel less anxious, obsessive, and self-conscious, but I didn’t want to take pills. I’m sure the medication would have helped me, but I was unable to accept help at that point because I was in complete denial.

Instead, I became obsessed with tanning, whitening my teeth, and highlighting my hair. “Tan fat is better than white fat.” I would say to myself. But the further I got from my natural self, the more miserable I became. My fucked up mantra was, “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.”

I was so self-conscious about my appearance and my fucked up family life that I truly believed my eating disorder was the one thing within my control. But I was delusional and mentally ill. The starving and binging were far from under control. It was running and ruining my life. I knew I was at risk of doing significant damage to my organs and body, but I couldn’t stop. I tried to keep this my little secret, but everyone around me knew.

I frequently heard people talk about me and my eating problem. They would comment on my swollen cheeks and neck, which was clearly from puking my brains out. I would hear what people said, but their comments just made me go even harder on my disordered eating. I was an anxious time bomb waiting to explode. I had absolutely no control over my behavior anymore, and I just wanted to run away and hide.

Looking through the diary I wrote at age 15, I feel sad for my younger self. I felt guilty and self-conscious about everything. I had no impulse control, which caused me to make poor choices and feel extreme regret and shame after. I felt like the binge drinking I did on the weekend was my only escape.

Then I would get back to school and hear about all of the stupid shit I did when I was wasted. That triggered my eating disorder even more. The higher my stress and anxiety, the more I starved myself, binged, and puked. I knew heavy drinking was a high-calorie sport, so I made sure to always throw it back up multiple times before the night was over.

From a young age, I always felt out of control and guilty. It was as though someone else was controlling my brain and body. I kept doing the same things repeatedly but could not stop. It was very confusing and upsetting. My shame was so high I didn’t even recognize my reflection. I looked in the mirror and saw a stranger.

My low self-confidence made me do anything to escape my reality. I drank my face off, slept around, and let my disordered eating rule my life. I was moving so fast that I wasn’t even aware of all my poor choices.

The first time I gave a blow job, I was babysitting for one of my teachers. I was only 14 and felt very pressured to please guys. I had a hard time saying no and would get talked into anything by the person I was dating. I was so hypnotized by my toxic first love that I did everything he said. Which made me feel constantly conflicted and worried.

I honestly lost all boundaries the first time I had sex and didn’t want to. My guilt and despair skyrocketed, and I drank even harder. I would get so fucked up I would black out and give away all of my power. I wasn’t even in my body when I had sex.

I was so gaslit by my first boyfriend I didn’t know what I was doing or who I was anymore. I was scared of what others thought about me and confused about my choices. My reputation was a bulimic, binge-drinking party slut.

As I got older, I continued to do what men wanted me to do sexually. I had completely lost touch with myself, which caused me to race through life and drink away my problems. Naturally, this made everything 100 times worse.

My recovery and healing journey began when I was 20 and started attending a yoga class for the first time. I finally started to feel safe in my own body. I could tune out all the noise on my mat and focus on me. I stopped comparing myself to others and started to respect my whole being.

Therapy was also in the mix. It helped me practice harm reduction and get to the root of my problems. Bipolar Disorder was a massive factor in my constant out-of-control feelings and my obsessive binging patterns. I slowly learned that my brain is structured differently than the average person and that I needed a lot of professional help to get mentally stable.

I worked hard with several therapists to learn healthy coping mechanisms to replace my harmful ones. I also saw dozens of doctors and finally found the proper nightly medication for me 2 years ago, after 10 years of trial and error. (Seroquel 400 mg)

The last time I stuck my finger down my throat to puke up my food was 11 years ago when I was 23. Something inside me clicked, and I decided I wanted to be done hurting and starving myself. Although I made peace with my bulimia, I still struggled with yo-yo dieting, over-exercising, and taking diet supplements for years to come.

When I was 24, I graduated from college and became a health coach and personal trainer. While living in southern California and training clients, I was obsessed with my appearance. I would work out three to four times daily and constantly lift my shirt to ensure my six-pack abs were still there.

Obsessive is an understatement. I was 25 pounds lighter than I am now and was fit as fuck, but I was miserable. My whole life revolved around exercising excessively and counting macros. My mental health was the worst it had ever been, and I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare.

I had no idea of how crazy I was and still felt fat, even though I was the fittest and most in shape I had ever been. I always heard people say, “Don’t spend your skinny days thinking you are fat,” and that is precisely what I was doing.

It was never enough. No matter how hard I worked out or how clean I ate, I was never satisfied. I was still striving for impossible standards that could never be met. I loved cultivating a semi-manic state from over exercising, taking diet supplements, and restricting my eating.

Then, I went in the opposite direction. I was on so many psychiatric pills and smoking so much weed that I went from too much self-awareness to absolutely none. My mental health was a disaster, and all I wanted to do was comfort eat and sleep 14+ hours a day. In the years to follow, I went from being super critical about my weight and appearance to not caring at all and completely letting myself go.

I gained over 80 pounds not once but twice. Once was in college from heavy drinking, which I gradually lost by working with a trainer and changing my diet. Then, I gained it all back again in my late 20s when my mental health was a mess. Talk about discouraging. And I had no motivation to get the weight off.

I lived in hell for years when I was trapped in my fat, depressed body. Every morning, I woke up wishing I could have a new life. I would try to go back to sleep and numb out as much as I could. I was embarrassed and hopeless. I continued to wonder how I got to such a miserable place.

They say people with Bipolar Disorder need three different-sized clothes: a smaller size for manic episodes, a larger size for depressive episodes, and a medium size for when we are semi-balanced. I found comfort in wearing extra-large pajamas and rompers. My weight gain was from depression, binge eating, binge drinking, and binge smoking. I stopped participating in my life, and every day just got worse.

I started doing all the easy things and let others pay for my life. I would stay with friends and family, sleep my life away, and avoid taking accountability for the mess I had made. I was so embarrassed by who I had become that I couldn’t see a way out. All I did was make excuses instead of finding solutions. I was a lazy, overweight, scared piece of shit that needed to wake up and make a change… So, finally, I did.

The most significant mental shift I made was focusing on my brain health rather than my distorted relationship with my body. I stopped demonizing food and began viewing it as precious daily medicine. I realized everything I ingest is either helping me or harming me. Cleaning up my diet allowed me to clean up my life. I also started walking and practicing good sleep hygiene.

The most important thing I needed to learn was how to love myself fully. I had no idea how to do that, so I went to YouTube University and began watching videos. For years, I did self-love meditations and repeated kind affirmations thousands of times.

At first, I felt silly and wasn’t sure how this was going to help. But slowly, it did. I would leave a hand mirror next to my bed, look into it, and say, “I love you! I really love you.” Then, I would use my rearview mirror in my car and say, “Wow, I love you even more today than I did yesterday.”

Next, I gradually started standing in front of the mirror naked and saying thank you to my body. I would say, “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for taking me through this journey. Without you, I wouldn’t even be here.” I would next say, “I will learn how to love you. I am learning how to love you.” And then it became, “I am starting to love you.” Then it was, “I truly love you.”

When it comes to changing self-hate to self-love, there is a lot of reprogramming and forgiving that needs to be done. I wrote myself letter after letter forgiving myself for my past, and also apologized and made amends with anyone I needed to.

Then, I asked myself simple questions like, “Is this respecting or disrespecting myself?” and “Is this helpful or harmful to me?” In time, I began to love and respect myself more as a human. My mental health gradually got better as I found more balance in my life.

Instead of trying to do everything fast and expecting results right away, I set small weekly and monthly goals. I would say, “Slow and steady wins the race.” And “Small steps equal big results.” Lastly, my favorite, “Persistence pays off.”

In a society that thrives on instant gratification, patience is hard! Sometimes, it feels challenging to wait for results. But anything worthwhile takes time – Especially when it comes to healing, overcoming disorders, addictions, mental health struggles, and practicing self-love. I realized I had to be strong enough to stop quitting on myself and my goals. I was sick of talking shit and wanted to start doing shit instead. It feels good to be true to my word and commitments.

I had to spend much time meditating and becoming more mindful and intentional in my approach to life. During my hardest times and biggest struggles, I let my moods run my world and acted on impulse, not instinct or intuition—I was completely mindless and needed to learn how to get quiet and calm myself.

When I noticed myself judging others or myself, I realized I had an insecurity that needed my attention and deeper understanding. If I started being mean to myself again, I would return to the positive affirmations and say something I love about myself. I repeatedly say, “I forgive you, and I love you. You did your best, and now you know how to do even better.” Anything we learn, we can unlearn. It takes time, effort, and consistency, but we can all do it.

The thing that improved my life the most was getting radically honest with myself. Whether I was overweight, addicted, struggling with disordered eating, in a bad relationship, mentally ill, or being hateful instead of loving, I started looking at myself in the mirror and facing the facts. Denial only stalls change and hurts us more. I began to understand that the only way out was through and that no one was coming to save me; I had to save myself. It sucked, but I always knew growth and change were possible.

My self-confidence came from hardship and being honest with myself. Other things that aided in my confidence boost were daily meditation and a regular exercise regime. A quote I always keep in mind when I get low or too hard on myself is, “Your best self probably isn’t your thinnest self, and that is okay.” I have battled with my body for decades, and this is something I always remind myself of. Now, I choose inner peace over perfection.

If someone makes a rude or hurtful comment to you in person or online, always remember that they feel shitty about themselves. If someone talks terribly, they feel bad about their life and appearance. Focus on you and bettering your life, not on negative insecure assholes. The more you rise and shine, the more shade you will get. Jealous people talk a lot of shit. Keep going!!

Getting stable has been a 14-year journey for me. It breaks my heart to think about how sick and sad I was during my younger years. I am so grateful I found my way back to myself.

It takes work, but it is so worth it. It is never too late to change. You do not have to be the same person you were a year ago, a week ago, or even a day ago. Choose to change, and your whole world will get bigger and brighter. There is a voice inside you screaming, please do something different; this isn’t working anymore! It is up to you if you are ready to listen to it. All the answers are inside of you.

YOU CAN DO THIS!!

(If you are struggling with your mental health, eating disorders, addictions, or your life in general, help is always available. This is a great time to reach out and take the first step towards feeling better.)

In Crisis, Call or Text 988

Or Call 1-800-662-HELP (4357)

Which is a free and confidential Treatment Referral Routing Service

Getting Help Is A Power Move