Nobody can prepare you for the grief that comes with an eating disorder.

Doubt that sits heaviest in my stomach is whether or not I am right to carry on.

As well as not speaking for hours at a time, one of my symptoms of loneliness is doubt, understandably.

I have a lot of emotion in me at the moment, a lump in my throat like I could cry. Today was no exception.

In 2015, I went all in. Not a 9-5 job, not a hobby; it is all fun and games until someone loses their mind.

“Can I offer just one bit of advice? Actually no, I won’t. They have a way of making one feel inadequate."

With 30 years of diet culture under my belt, a measly five of which I have spent trying to undo it, I expect to slip up.

Recovering from an eating disorder is probably the hardest thing I will ever do.

If I am being really honest - I was hopeful that anyone I mentioned my eating disorder to would meet me at my level.

Taking myself to therapy in 2019 was step one, waving my white flag. Admitting to my eating disorder in 2020 was my surrender.