At 20, I made a phone call with shaky hands and a racing heart.
That phone call changed my life.
Completely did a 360 on the course I was on.
That was the day I booked a Christian Counselling appointment.
I knew if nothing changed, nothing would change. I'd still be anorexic at 70 if I didn't do something different. If I didn't reach out for help for my eating mindsets and behaviors.
I was so done with missing out on life's joy and relationships with others in the name of eating certain foods or keeping to my workout schedule.
I realized I needed to get help or I'd come to the end of my life, only to look back and see a continued pattern of missing out on living a full and satisfying life.
It was a brave and strong, but oh so hard choice to make that phone call and book my first of many sessions. Getting vulnerable with my counselor was uncomfortable but definitely worth it. Worth the time, the money and the discomfort in being real and facing my food, exercise and body image struggles head on with her.
I think my issues with food began back in elementary school, in the third grade. When a crush I had called me fat. I vowed in my little eight year old heart that I would never have someone wrinkle their nose in disgust at my appearance again. I hated that feeling and was determined to do anything to avoid that terrible look and shameful experience again.
That boy didn't cause me to have an eating disorder, but it was one of many influencing factors that created prime conditions for an eating disorder to slowing creep in and control my life. By the time I hit high school, I had a full fledged eating disorder, having learned to starve myself to lose a vast amount of weight. My high school and young adult university years were marked with too low of weight periods and also seasons of binging, regular negative emotionally eating and huge weight gain because of it,
The crazy part? I realized I'd believed a big fat lie.