I can still recall the disturbing details of this telling time I conquered. I can vividly picture myself, drained and half asleep, trying to fit in 50 more crunches before allowing myself to endure dinner, my biggest fear at the time. Numbers of calories flowed in and out of my brain, just like the information I “learned” at school because I couldn’t focus long enough to absorb it all. Days and days were filled with nothing but a small salad, a low-calorie yogurt, and maybe, just maybe, a few crackers. Why would I want to live this way? Why would I purposely deprive myself of food and exercise endless hours a day? To be quite honest, I still am unable to grasp that I did this to myself. During freshman year, the only way I was going to love myself was if I was skinny.

            I could go into more details about how I did it and how I had the willpower to do all this damage to myself, but that is the opposite of what I have chosen to do with my life. Telling the story of developing my eating disorder puts a pain on my heart, and I now want to turn this into a positive experience to raise awareness for others. Sharing only the gory details of my food deprivation and workout obsession, helps no one. Quite frankly, I could be giving someone advice on how to get an eating disorder, and trust me, that is that last thing I ever want to do.

            Sure, everyone goes through a rough patch, and I know I’m not the only one with a tear-jerking story about a disease that almost hospitalized and killed me, but I know I am different from the rest. When I talk to others about their recovery journey, they never fail to mention the countless times they were hospitalized and the long list of therapists they’ve seen. It breaks my heart to say that many people I know with an eating disorder have relapsed at least once, at the minimum, throughout their recovery. I come in as the one following the road less traveled: I was successful at my first time in recovery because of my dedication, willpower, motivation, strength, and my support system. Not to say that others don’t have this, because I’m sure they do, but ever since I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa my freshman year, a little switched flipped in my head telling me I could live a better life and kill the disease trying to ruin it all for me.

            I don’t regularly say this, but I am proud of myself. Looking back, I can’t believe that I really beat this deadly disease that tried to take my teenage years away from me. I really did it. To got to the finish line, I put my whole self out there and became truly dedicated to restoring my life. Was it easy? Not one bit. But was it worth it? Of course. I don’t know who I would be today without this experience in my life. I have never wished that it didn’t happen to me because I know the disease changed me into a better person. Today, I am so much more confident, content with life, bubbly, passionate, and dedicated than I ever was before. I never imagined I would say this, but I want to thank my eating disorder. Thank it for changing me into the strong woman I am today. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for me as I continue to spread awareness.