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My instinct when asked about my eating disorder is to mystify my “heroic journey” to recovery. Through snarky and impactful commentary, I often simplify the root of my mental disorder to avoid difficult questions. However, a key yet disregarded, element to my story is that for a very long time, I didn’t want to be a woman.
*Trigger Warning*
I’ve received treatment more times than I care to count, for a larger array of issues than I care to admit, namely for anorexia nervosa in a variety of settings, inpatient, residential, outpatient, psychiatry wards and medical wards.
"None of my actions were a choice - they were an illness, a coping mechanism that allowed me to disguise my insecurities, pain, trauma, self-hate, and complete belief that I was not enough, that I would never be enough."
Image Credit: UnSplash
Originally posted on Ravishly.
Frequently, I get messages from people – usually cis men who are dating cis women, but not always – asking me what the hell they’re supposed to do when their partner talks negatively about their own body.
“She’s unhappily gained weight since we’ve been together, and I know saying ‘I still think you’re beautiful’ confirms the idea that fat is bad,” they say.
"Even though it can feel overwhelming and nearly impossible to live in this diet obsessed world, it is important to keep in mind there are ways to make it happen and put your recovery first."
On today's blog, Kelsi discusses how how to navigate eating disorder recovery in a diet obsessed world! Happy Eating Disorder Awareness Week!
I recently broke someone’s heart.
It wasn’t like an indie movie or a John Green book; there were no “wronged parties”. It was a long-term relationship with a partner that I still care about, but I knew deep down that I had been lying about the inevitable for too long.
"If we think we ‘cannot’ or ‘do not’ deserve something then I can promise you, we will not put our energy into making it happen. As, we already are starting from a place of defeat."
Photo Credit: UpSlash
Author: Jameson Hampton
There’s an odd dichotomy that comes with being transgender. On the one hand, I often feel like a teacher. There’s an assumption that I know more about gender theory than the average person and, for better or worse, there’s often an expectation that I educate others about my own identity, what it means to be trans and the struggles of my community. On the other hand, I often feel very much like a student, still trying to figure out things about my own body that other people have known since they were young.
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