Month: November 2022
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Gaining Weight? How to Handle Fear of Judgment
For years I worried about gaining weight. I was paralyzed by fear that everyone I know was judging my body. Desperately wanting to hide my shape-shifting body behind baggy clothes, thoughts of my body constantly swirled in my head. As I pushed myself to let go of restricting and dieting, those worries grew larger. “What…
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“I’m Tired of Fighting My Body.” You Can STOP now!
She looked at me with tears in her eyes and quietly whispered, “I’m tired of fighting my body.” As a tear trickled down her cheek, my own heart broke open. I knew how she felt. Exhausted. Fed up. Feeling like she just couldn’t do it… Not. One. More. Day. At the very same time- she…
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8 of the Best Recovery Resources I’m Grateful For
The holidays used to fill me with panic and dread. But since recovery from disordered eating and dieting, my mind has shifted focus. Free from hours of obsessing about food, exercise, and my body, I now have much more time to focus on what I’m thankful for. That’s why I want to share 8 recovery…
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Eating Disorder Recovery Tattoo: Why It’s So Helpful
I gave myself a very special gift for my 44th birthday. It’s an eating disorder recovery tattoo. NEDA’s (National Eating Disorder Association) symbol for recovery is weaved inside a butterfly with the world “allow” is underneath. My eating disorder recovery tattoo is a symbol of metamorphosis. It represents my recovery and freedom from anorexia and bulimia. And although…
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14 Things Your Loved One With An Eating Disorder Wants You To Know (but is afraid to tell you)
Eating disorders are prevalent, complicated, and often stigmatized. People struggling with an eating disorder typically have difficulty speaking up and expressing their needs directly. I’ve been fortunate enough to have some very well-intentioned and supportive friends and family in my life. Sadly, there are many times they’ve made comments or asked questions that were harmful to…
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Surviving Difficult Emotions- Only Way Out is Through
Standing in a busy doctor’s office, medical professionals buzzed around me. On a table, my anxious four year old sat clutching his arm. He was waiting for them to put a bright orange cast on his broken wrist. His wide eyes stared at me; panic stirred in my belly. I made my best attempt to look calm…