Tag: body confidence

Don’t they all look so perfect and slender? Their taut tummies stretched in a sexy arch. Their chests heaving forward demanding your attention. And, their thighs! You can actually see daylight between their thighs! I don’t think any outdoor breeze on earth has graced the skin between my thighs. And, I don’t have really large thighs! And, I also don’t spend my time on the beach posing. I spend it writing to help others who might be slipping toward a terribly debilitating eating disorder as I did, and this topic has been burning on my mind.

Can we talk about posers for a minute? Continue reading “Can We Talk about Posers?” →

Back in my eating disorder heyday, I would often get caught in what I called a “food jam.” A forced meal. A real dilemma. For me, lunch was always the most common. When I was a highly-functional bulimic I would often starve through the day, drinking only coffee for breakfast.

“Why blow through so many calories so early? When I’m not even desperately starving yet?” Continue reading “A Food Jam” →

For me, it started with a Polaroid. A lampshade. A stocky topless girl. And a Polaroid. Then, later, a traumatic Tanya Harding whack to the knees of my confidence that briefly shattered me. That was just the pinnacle moment that triggered what had already been brewing in my mind and what would continue to roar like a furnace long after I could even recall what Tanya’s club felt like. Many things had been leading up to it. Continue reading “Your Fat and Unlovable Photo” →

“My boyfriend thinks I’m fat!” We can all relate to that phrase. You imagine a silly girl in the restaurant who throws her fork and shrieks this out when the waiter asks her if she would like dessert.

What a snivelly little weakling. “I could crush her,” you might be thinking.

But, if you were anything like me when I was suffering from a raging eating disorder, I have admit that I was actually far weaker than her. Rather than letting some emotions out in public where they might be aired out, exposed, and cleared, I took mine home with me. I swallowed them and hid them. Fed them and grew them. I locked the door and hugged them like a toilet. Continue reading “The Worst Kind of Addiction” →