This Is Why I Share My Story

Trigger warning: This is a personal story that contains eating disorder content.

I can’t remember my life before my eating disorder — before the starving, obsessive weigh-ins, shameful self-talk, and over-exercising. But that’s because what happened in those fourteen years prior shaped my self-image entirely. My eating disorder didn’t appear overnight; it was a slow descent into darkness. Before it all started, there were years of hiding shameful secrets and self-harm — and, before that, years of abuse. 

Sometimes we create our stories, but sometimes they create us. They shape us and the enemy taunts us with lies to believe about ourselves. I didn’t understand this when I detested my reflection, when all I could see were flaws. Deep inside, I believed that if I could disappear, life would improve. The more I embraced this lie, the less I ate and the thinner I became. But nothing changed. The emptiness inside only grew while my self-esteem lessened. 

My body and quest for perfection became my idol. Calories, food, exercise — every aspect became an obsession. As a young adult, my condition worsened until I finally reached out for help. I feared gaining weight. I feared living without the control I thought I’d gained through my eating disorder. And I feared admitting any of this. Still, tired and weary, I reached out to a Christian counselor who helped me in the healing process of renewing my mind. 

To finish reading the rest of my story, click here and join me at (in)courage.

Sign up here to receive free daily notes from (in)courage right in your inbox!