Bulimia Didn’t Make Me Skinny
I wasn’t always the confident, outgoing, empowered woman I see in the mirror today.
Actually I would do everything to avoid the mirror in public until I could get home and scrutinise every aspect of myself in my own space alone. Picking at my skin and lifting my top up to analyse every aspect of myself in such a hateful way.
Unbeknown to the outside world, I loathed myself. I couldn’t find one thing I liked or didn’t get repulsed by when looking in the mirror.
I was severely depressed.
I had body dysmorphia.
I had hormonal imbalances.
I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders.
…and I was bulimic.
I ruined almost every relationship in my life. My poor family dealt with a very bitter, sad, lonely, dismissive and moody Emma.
I felt I had no control over anything and found solitude in compulsively exercising, overeating ridiculous amounts of food and purging until there were tears running down my face. There was something about punishing myself that felt so much more comfortable and safe than experiencing pleasure or enjoyment in life. I was chasing the perfect body and control, when I felt so out of control.
The background lead up was a PCOS diagnosis, being on the pill from the age of 14 as a treatment which sent me crazy, depressed and completely out of whack; and I carried a lot of guilt with my sister being disabled and couldn’t understand why it wasn’t me.
But mostly it was comparison that did it.
Comparison is the root of evil.
Society is creating and conditioning our women more and more to compare, rather than celebrate everyone in their differences. My issues surfaced well before the recent rise of social media and the quick access to anything at a click of the finger. It makes me worry for our younger girls today.
My change point was finally admitting how bad everything had got for me to my parents and admitting I needed help. I remember my Mother sobbing and my Father looking so helpless. I could write a whole series on them alone on how they have positively impacted the lives of others. Seeing my Mother with her head in her hands, feeling that she had somehow failed me as a parent…changed me.
I made a choice. One foot in front of the other.
I knew it would be a long process but I was determined to never be in that place again.
I can assure you, bulimia didn’t make me skinny. Loving myself, being appreciative of my body, listening to her and connecting with her is what gave me my body today and helped me to lose the weight I was carrying; both physical and emotional weight.
My experience was interesting with the health field just wanting to diagnose me and feed me pills. I didn’t take them. I had already experimented with drugs and I knew my answer wasn’t in a pill. But it was the therapy that surprised me the most. I kept receiving sympathy. I didn’t want that nor needed it. It wasn’t helpful. They sat behind a desk and it all felt so sterile. I left with the feeling of not being supported, understood or safe.
Unable to find someone to help me in that space years ago, I decided to become the therapist and coach that my teenage self once needed.
If you are experiencing anything like what I did, know that things can change. Let me be your example. I’m now an empowered woman, owning her life through my own choices and helping other woman to do the same.
I’d love to help and hear your story also.
I’ve since rescued my teenage self and use this to help other women in their own journey of healing.