I started my eating disorder at age 13 the moment that I noticed a little pocket of fat at my bikini line. I will never forget that moment. I was wearing a turquoise swimsuit with a ruffle—a swimsuit that I loved and felt so feminine in—but with that negative thought that “fat is bad,” my happiness with that swimsuit began to dissipate. It was in that moment I decided to eat less. Little did I know that experiencing a slight weight gain was normal in becoming a woman.
Each night the dinner table became our battlefield, with me refusing to eat even though I knew food for us was a luxury not to be taken for granted. She insisted rather strongly that I eat while I stubbornly held my ground and refused to take one bite.
Much has happened in my struggle to recover, but I have learned that the “perfect size” (or rather my healthy weight) is where my body weight naturally is when I am taking care of it by eating regularly and getting moderate exercise. Occasionally now I catch myself “waiting to live” until my life is perfect—I will do it with other desires such as when I am in the right relationship and when my business is “perfect”—but the fabulous thing is that I catch myself “waiting to live” and am able to let go and be present. The past is over and the future has not yet arrived. This moment is all I have.