Compare and Despair.

My eating disorder thrives off comparisons. That girl has skinner legs. Her abs are more defined. She has less food on her plate. She got a better grade on the test. She has more friends. With all these comparisons running rampant in my mind, no wonder I was miserable!

Under these seemingly superficial comparisons lies the belief that I am not ok as I am. When I walked through the doors at Vista, I immediately started to compare myself to the other girls. Quickly my eating disorder latched onto the idea that I didn’t deserve to be in treatment because others were “sicker” than me. The problem wasn’t simply that I thought I didn’t need to be in treatment, but rather I didn’t believe that I was worthy to receive help.

Just like every human is distinct, eating disorders don’t all look the same; they manifest differently in every individual. So maybe I didn’t have as much weight to gain as someone else or I didn’t have my eating disorder for as long as another, but I did need help. The core belief that I didn’t deserve proper nutrition and rest, yet alone love and acceptance needed to be uprooted and tossed to the curb.

Only through the power of the cross can I eradicate such unworthiness. Daily, I am replacing my fleeting eating disorder thoughts with the steadfast words of God. The Psalmist writes, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139: 13, 14). God wonderfully created me, and unconditionally loves me just as I am—my talents, quirks, and yes even my weaknesses. My Savior views me as so deserving that he carried my sins to the cross, not because of anything I have achieved, but simply because he deeply cares for me. Through God’s grace, I can rest in the truth that no grade, paycheck, workout, no not even the number on a scale can make me worthy; but rather, my worth is found in the death and resurrection of Jesus.

Many times, I don’t look towards Christ to find my self worth. On a daily basis, I struggle with evaluating others in order to feel content in myself. But that’s the beauty of the Gospel. My actions don’t dictate my worth—Christ’s saving grace does!

So when I turn to comparison, I remember the wise words of Theodore Roosevelt, “Comparison is the thief of joy”. I remind myself that comparing stifles the joy I have in the Lord. Instead, I cling to the certainty of Scripture that I am perfectly handcrafted and incredible beautiful.

Bigger Jeans. Bigger Life.

Bigger Jeans. Bigger Life.

That’s what a wise therapist told me when I was in residential treatment. And I hated it. I hated the concept that I couldn’t have a good body and a good life. I hated someone telling me that I couldn’t have a satisfying life in my eating disorder. I sure didn’t want bigger jeans, but I did want a bigger life, which lead me to constantly question:

Why can’t I be skinny and have a full life?

Just to give you a little inside look into my thoughts, I’d like to take a moment to explain how my eating disorder self manipulates…pretty much anything. Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) is based off the principle that two things can be true at the same time. For example, I can be anxious about my lunch, AND I can eat it anyway. It’s a great tactic that can empower me to acknowledge my feelings and challenge my eating disorder at the same time. However, my eating disorder self has exploited this theory, convincing me that I can keep the parts of my eating disorder that makes me feel safe AND get my life back.

The voice says, “They tell you in therapy that you can hold two things to be true at the same time. With that logic you CAN have the perfect body AND be free from the destruction of your eating disorder.”

For quite some time, these manipulative lies are what kept me from surrendering to the “bigger jeans, bigger life” attitude. Nevertheless, with lots of help from therapy sessions, groups, and most importantly God's grace, I slowly came to accept this outlook. And now, I am here to say that it couldn’t be more true.

Being 3 days out of eating disorder treatment, I have taken time to reflect on these last 7 months. The realization I have come to is that I am finally getting my life back. With my bigger jeans, I can enjoy life. I can enjoy ice cream out with my friends. I can enjoy conversations around the dinner table. I can enjoy a morning stroll by the ocean. In my eating disorder, I couldn’t enjoy any of those events because I was only half present. The other half of me was busy calculating calories, pushing my food around, counting my steps, making up workouts to burn off the food.

But beyond life events around food and exercise, I can simply live. I can laugh with my coworkers. I can comfort a friend in need. I can engage in intellectual discussions. I can relax with a crossword. I can simply live.

I want to be connected and think beyond food and exercise. But if I turn ever so slightly to my eating disorder, my vision becomes hazy. I overlook my values, my beliefs, the core that makes me who I am because my eating disorder tells me that all will be ok if I just to have the perfect body. So, in answer to my previous question, I can’t be skinny and live a full life because my soul self, the woman I truly am, is lost in my eating disorder.

You might say that I have my life back because I am out of treatment, have a job, and am enrolled in classes. These facts are true, but for me, getting my life back is more than the tangible; it is experiencing each moment of life, fully participating in the steps along my journey. I know that as I continue in recovery, my life will grow in ways beyond what I can even imagine. So here’s to embracing bigger jeans for a bigger life!

Surrender.

I am stubborn. I have been my whole life. When I was little my mom used to pray that I would make good decisions because whatever I decided, there would be no way of talking me out of it. When I started gymnastics I spent every free moment practicing my back handspring. Even after landing on the top of my head time after time, I would not give up. My mind was set on getting the skill, and nothing could hold me back.

My eating disorder self took full advantage of my obstinate character. I was determined to lose “x” amount of pounds. I was fixated on every calorie that went into my body and on every calorie that I burned off. For quite some time, my eating disorder was what I wanted, and no one could make me stop.

Even in my recovery, my stubbornness has come into play. I’ve been hardheaded and feisty, determined to get my way when I thought something was unfair. Most recently, my pertinacity has gotten me stuck in a rut. It has prevented me from moving forward because my goal has been to lose the “excess” weight. Just like when I was little girl, my heart was set on the goal, and that was that. No questions asked.

However, in my recovery, I am learning what is means to surrender. To stop resisting my meal plan, my treatment team, my recovery. To be humbled and realize my way isn’t working. To hand over the reins to those more knowledgeable. In surrendering, I open the doors to receive love and support. I acknowledge that I can’t do it on my own, and I need a Savior. Surrender leaves space to accept God’s precious gift of grace that comes from the death and resurrection of his Son.  

I am learning how to use my stubbornness for restoration instead of destruction. With my mind set on surrendering to the process, I can know that my fortitude cannot be shattered. Relying on Christ’s true strength instead of the façade of power from my stubbornness, I can recover. My heart is set on recovering through the power of God, and that is exactly what I am going to do.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; 

in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.

                                                                                                Proverbs 3:5-6