In the context of peer support, I'm often asked about what eating disorder recovery means to me and how I 'got' here. Basically, I'm asked to sort of summarize the most important thoughts I went through while battling the disease; or now, looking back on it. I'm happy to share with you readers some of my most personal truths discovered along the way; things I know for sure about myself and about what my recovery was like, and also in regards to how I feel about my history with bulimia.

I have had an eating disorder for fully half of my life. I’ve spent nearly as many years in eating disorder treatment as I did in college. I write a blog about eating disorders and recovery. So it’s easy to believe the lie that I am Jessica, the recovering and/or relapsing anorexic. It’s easy for any of us to believe that our eating disorder is a huge part of who we are. No, not just a huge part – but who we are in our entirety.

Fat. Stupid. Ugly. Weak. Not good enough. Self-hatred is a core feeling in many people suffering from eating disorders. Including me. I've been having an internal war with myself today. I'm too fat. I shouldn't eat. You don't deserve to eat. Don't be so weak... My head hurt. My stomach hurt. Even my brain hurt. Eventually I give in, starving. Then... You're a fat, disgusting pig.

I am... A friend. A daughter. A sister. A writer. A lover of books and all things word-related. An intelligent, engaging person. A mom to my furry cat, Aliena. A curious, lively person who believes in learning. I am me. I am not my eating disorder. Sometimes it is hard to remember that.

A few weeks ago, I gave away the last of my "anorexic" clothing. The clothing that was too young. Too short. Too...anorexic. I mean, a micro-miniskirt on a forty-six-year-old? Seriously? I feel myself becoming more free each day.