Who am I? It has been the constant question that has entered my head since I was maybe 13 years old. Most teens go through that stage, trying to become who they want, or already knowing who they are- how lucky. Yet really that question was a big part of my life when I hit middle school. When you begin to become more of an adult. When you can start seeing the world through adults eyes. This question never helped me, however, it only drifted me further to who I truly was, to who I am now.
Was I the loud girl, the outgoing one? The girl who was silly and tried to make everyone laugh? The girl who wore bright colors to brighten everyones day. The girl who cut off her hair because she got mad at it in the hot summer. The girl who was brave enough to be the lead in the school play. The girl who sang, and tried sports, who had so many friends. Yeah- that was me in middle school. Where did that go?
At thirteen I finally became aware of my parents continuous dieting. I finally noticed the shape of my new curves- in sewing class we had to measure. I had an hour glass figure. Did I care- not really. Not yet. I started noticing others bodies. I tried my first diet. It lasted a week. I mean, honestly, how much could I already diet since I had become a vegetarian at the age of 10.
When I was 14, I got my 2nd black belt. I finally ended karate after 6 years of doing it. My school was about to change. My friends were leaving to go to a different high school, a bigger school. I had dumped my very 1st boyfriend and he made me feel terrible about it. I started voice lessons. I tried my second diet. It lasted 3 weeks and I was still a vegetarian.
When I was 15, I was lost. I was confused. I didn't fit in, though I tried too hard. I didn't do the school plays. I didn't play field hockey anymore. They told me my weight in the nurses office- I was mortified. I stopped having bagels every morning, and I tried my third diet for 3 weeks. I started talking to Michael, the love of my life. We started dating. No matter how good he made me feel, I still was lost, especially when I wasn't with him since he went to the other high school.
When I was 16, I started marching band. I sucked. I had no free time and was never home. My ex boyfriend from middle school yelled at me and called me names. My parents got weight loss surgeries. I started my 4th diet. It lasted 8 months. I was the shy girl. I was the depressed girl. I was the girl that wore jeans and an over sized sweatshirt. I was the girl who had cold hands. I was the girl you never saw eat. I was the girl with empty eyes. I was the girl who cut her skin. I was the girl who cried continuously. I was the girl who didn't know who she was. My mom put me on the scale one day with two tee shirts on, a sweater, jeans, and boots. I weighed x pounds. She said don't go much lower okay? I tried getting better with my boyfriends help- I gained some weight back, some color. My dad overdosed on pills and went away to inpatient therapy.
When I was 17, since no one go me help and no one noticed, I relapsed. I lost all my weight, not that I had gained much back. I started marching band again. I learned how to get rid of the food they made me eat too. I was the girl I was last year. I was the girl who would come out of the bathroom with blood shot eyes. I was the girl who would not eat unless forced. I was that girl. That was my identity. Nothing more. I wanted to know who I was on the inside. I looked for help. I told my parents. Nothing happened. I was forced again to figure it out alone.
When I was 18, I went to college. I tried no diets. I was healthy. I was the girl who was shy and read a lot. I was the girl with the steady boyfriend from high school. I was the girl with perfect grades. I was the girl who spent hours in her room doing homework. I was the girl who barely went out with friends. I was a girl who smiled and laughed. I was a girl who made friends. I was a girl who helped others through times of need. I took nutrition and had to count the calories. My third relapse started.
When I was almost 19, I relapsed completely. I lost everything I had become. I wanted to be the shy girl. I wanted to be depressed girl. I wanted to be girl that wore jeans and an over sized sweatshirt. I wanted to be girl who had cold hands. I wanted to be the girl you never saw eat. I wanted to be girl with empty eyes. I wanted to again be the skinny girl. I lost a lot of weight, not as much as the first time. I started to look dead inside. I wanted to be my Eating Disorder. Its the only identity I could fathom.
Months later, I was tired of the games. I was tired of being the crazy girl, the girl who barely ate, the girl with the loud stomach, the girl who was afraid of butter, the girl obsessed with weight and food, the girl that would cry secretly, the girl that would throw tantrums. I wanted to know who I was on the inside. Now I am in outpatient treatment- where I should have been when I was 16 and 17. Maybe I would have never relapsed if someone noticed. If they would have paid attention. I don't know who I am yet. I am still figuring it out. I am the girl who reads a lot. I am the girl that is rather shy around new people. I am the girl that gets excited over small things. I am the girl who loves her boyfriend of nearly 4 years. I am the girl that cant decide on one hair color. I am the girl that loves latte's and hot chocolate. I am the girl who loves to buy new clothes. I am the girl who Loves chocolate! I am the girl who loves to write. I am the girl who is caring of others and will be a nurse one day. I am the girl who is still cold all the time. I am the girl that doodles on All of her notes. I am the girl that loves the color green. I am the girl who is beautiful no matter what weight.I am finally figuring out what girl I really am.
Don't let ED take away who you truly are. Don't let ED be who you are. Just be you!
