In the beginning stages of my anorexia I was so ashamed and embarrassed of my struggles that I had to beg my Mom not to tell even the extended family.
I was so dead set on having no one know about me because of this unsettling fear I had about what they were going to think.
"Tay has trouble eating? That's the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!" or "She has anorexia? But she's not even skinny!"
Were some of the thoughts I had of what people were going to say if I told them my secret. And that is what it was, my secret. I kept my anorexia to myself for years without others knowing and that's how I liked it. But it wasn't doing be any good.
Opening up to others was not an interest of mine, even when I was forced to talk with counselors and therapists, I didn't utter much. I can't tell you how many people I saw, talked the first visit and then decided not to talk to them again. I hated the idea of strangers knowing the depth of my inside battles.
They would surely think I was stupid, pathetic and had no chance at life, let along recovery.
When my Mom finally told people in our family, I was horrified and refused to ever go to another thanksgiving get together or family gathering again. I feared their comments, their stares, their judgments.
And although my Mom would reassure me that nobody was going to judge me or say anything, I knew they would. I could feel it. Once I told people what was wrong with me, I feared that's all they would ever think of me. Just some girl who wanted to be thin and didn't eat and was stupid. These are outrageous thoughts, but at the time, I believed in them like a bad religion.
One day it got to be too much. I was planning to go away to boarding school, we had picked a school in Maine and I was all set to go until they requested doctor records. I completely broke down like never before, started yelling and screaming at my Mom, asking her why this had to happen.
"I just want a clean slate for once, why can't I just go somewhere new without people having to know my history?"
Because my history is part a of me, it makes me who I am and sometimes people need to know what's up. Something I failed to recognize at the time.
But this was the event that first prompted me to think about suicide. It was all too overwhelming for me and I didn't know how to deal with my emotions. Everything was rushing so fast and in this moment I foolishly thought that if I died now, things would be better.
When I finally got to boarding school, I worked on opening up and the first person I told about my story was Ben (my fiance). It was a huge step for me and it was scary as hell, but so worth it. He was a safe person, someone who I knew would never judge me or treat me differently once he knew and turns out he still loves me!
I would have never imagined back then, that today I would be opening sharing my story with the whole world but I don't care who knows anymore because I have this story and it's mine so I need to own it and share it in hopes other people can get something from it.
I really encourage you to share your story with someone, even if you are terrified. Just by opening up to Ben, my whole outlook turned up-side-down and it gave me more power to move forward towards recovery.
The key here is to not care about what the other people may think.
In fact since sharing what I have been through, I have only gotten positive comments and remarks. I got messages from old friends and new friends thanking me for being vulnerable and telling me how much it has helped them in their own lives.
Just like Marianne Williamson said, "Your playing small does not serve the world...as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from out fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
If you are really brave and want to write about your experience, check out Voicing Freedom from The Libero Network.
{p.s. If you enjoyed this post, please share it, tweet it, pin it to pinterest, facebook like it! It would be a lot to me.}
xoxo
Tayla