I am sorry for not appreciating you and all of the places you allow me to go. Instead of measuring your worth by your strength, ability to keep me going, and perseverance, I measured it by the scale, the mirror, and the label in my jeans. Instead of respecting and nourishing you, I starved you, binged, forced you to vomit, abused laxatives, and exercised despite symptoms of fatigue. I cut you in order to relieve anxiety, and I have even tried to end your very existence. I have called you “fat,” “crippled,” “useless,” and “grotesque;” but now I see that this is untrue. You are strong. You are resilient. If I would not judge my friends based upon their exercise routines and their diets, I shall not subject you to that sort of judgment. Thank you for building and rebuilding. Thank you for existing.
Oh, Erica, I’m glad your recovering! This was brave of you to post! Recovery is tricky. I’m here for you!