From Shame to Strength.

Scars. We all have them.
I have one on my lip where at 4yrs old my tooth cut through the skin when I slipped in the grocery store. Another one under my nose where my siblings pushed me down our driveway when I was little. And yet another where a hair straightener burned my leg in the freshman dorms. Life is full of bumps and bruises, and sometimes they make for good memories to reminisce on during the holidays.

But I also have scars that come from painful memories. Scars no one could see--scars of the heart. These invisible scars are the ones that cut the deepest.

When I began unpacking the root issues of my eating disorder, the emotions of painful experiences flooded over me. Without my usual method of coping (i.e. using my eating disorder), I turned to self-harm. At the time, I didn't understand what was happening. Why was I blatantly inflicting pain on myself when I've learned so much about showing myself compassion? Why was I struggling to apply this principle when I felt overwhelmed with shame and guilt?

I've come to realize self-harm was a way to make sense of how I had been hurt. For me, it acted as a physical representation of the scars that no one could see. But using self-harm to understand my pain didn't solve the problem. In fact, it merely added to the shame I already felt. Shame for having visible scars on top of the shame from invisible scars.

The real work requires seeing strength in places where I previously saw weakness. This shift in perspective opens the door for me to show compassion to that girl who was feeling so much hurt for so long while pushing through each day with a smile on her face. That, my friends, takes an incredible amount of strength and a heaping pile of resilience. And so, by changing my viewpoint from shame to strength, I become empowered by my story.

In the same light, I have the power to change how I view my self-harm scars. The scars don't have to be a place of shame. They are simply part of my story. The story of fighting so desperately to gain a healthy life. Of overcoming challenges many people will never understand. Of finding joy in the journey despite the cuts and scars along the way.

A story of strength. A story of resilience.

***Below is a website with resources if you or a loved one is struggling with self-harm. Additionally, feel free to message me, and I will do my best to listen and point you in the right direction to get the help you need***

https://twloha.com/find-help/help-by-topic/self-injury/

365 Days of Choosing Life.

In 365 days, I have moved 2,335 miles away from home, lived in 6 different houses/apartments, and spent 196 of those days in treatment. Needless to say, I’ve made a lot of changes in 365 days. And it all started with the decision to choose life.

June 3, 2015—exactly a year ago—I embarked on a journey to start living again. At the time, I had no idea what that entailed, but a timid little knock on the door was my first step in choosing life.

Looking back on this year, I see so much I have gained. The most important thing that has aided me in choosing life day in and day out has been using my voice. I’ve learned to speak up for myself, and it has made me more courageous than I ever thought possible. I have been able to voice my needs and feelings in friendships, at work, and with family where a year ago I would have turn inwards, beaten myself up, and taken it out on my food. I have learned that I only have one life, and I am the one who lives it; therefore, it is my responsibility, right, and privilege to make sure the things in my life are congruent with the way I want to live. By using my voice, I align my actions with my commitment to choose the life I want for myself.

In addition to using my voice to meet my own needs, I have taken a brave step to use my story as a source of advocacy. A year ago you couldn’t pay me a million bucks to tell my friends and family how sick I was. I was too scared and ashamed to speak the truth. Now, 365 days later, I am an open book, willing to share what I have done this year. I couldn’t be prouder of my recovery and the hard steps I have taken (and will continue to take) in order to be recovered.

With every blog post, part of me is filled with fear because I am allowing myself to be vulnerable to the world. But a bigger part of me is empowered. Empowered that I can use my story to make a difference in other’s lives. Empowered that I can advocate for recovery from an illness that goes unseen by most of the world. Empowered that I can speak truth to my peers when they struggle. Empowered that I, in spite of my hardships and brokenness, can be a light in this world.

And the responses I have received in return truly touch my heart. My eyes fill with tears of gratitude when I receive responses of encouraging affirmations, ways you can relate, and questions on how to get help. Taking a risk, although terrifying, is beyond rewarding. The incredible experiences I have gained by being vulnerable outweigh the lure of my eating disorder.

So much has changed in 365 days. Yet sometimes I feel like I’m still that withering girl waiting at the front step. In those moments, I thank that girl for taking the first step through the doors of Vista, and for choosing life. And, in honor of that brave soul, I will continue to choose life.