On May 1st, 1999, I admitted that I wanted to quit starving, and I haven’t starved a day since. God removed the compulsion from me that day. It took another 6 years for me to give up sugar and be relieved from the compulsion to binge eat, but for 13 years I have been free every day from the physical impulse to starve. That doesn’t mean I’ve been “over” anorexia for 13 years. I am anorexic every day. I look in the mirror some days and hate my body, hate it with a profound deep hatred most people reserve for Nazis. I don’t want that hate, and I pray to be kind to my body, but the hate bubbles up. But I eat. Every day. No matter what. And I wear shorts out in public, and I go swimming (well, not very often, but I am vain about my hair coloring) and all sorts of things I thought impossible once. For 13 years, I have been an anorexic and a woman, not just an anorexic end stop.
You guys, I can’t even. Nothing has ever been a greater gift than the one I was given that day.