A Special Note From Our Chaplain: What Is Spirituality?

What is spirituality?

It’s the question I brought to treatment group a few weeks ago. One of the distinguishing features of Rock Recovery’s treatment program is the way we incorporate spirituality into the recovery process. And while we’ve addressed various spiritual topics in treatment group in the past (things like forgiveness, freedom, where our identity and value come from), I realized we’d never really defined “spirituality” in the group.

It’s a hard concept to pinpoint, especially when we’re considering it apart from ties to any particular religious tradition. But because, as a Christian organization, Rock Recovery believes that we are all spiritual people (regardless of whatever specific faith commitments we may have), I introduced our clients to this definition of spirituality:  

The experience of meaningful and positive connection within the self, with others, and with the transcendent. In other words, spirituality includes connecting inward (with the self), outward (with others), and upward (with the transcendent).*

We spent a while naming different elements of each of these dimensions of spirituality. Then I invited the clients to identify, for each dimension of their spirituality, one thing they felt good about; one way they’d like to grow; and one concrete thing they could do to foster that growth.

It doesn’t sound very exciting on paper, but it was actually one of the best (and longest!) discussions I’ve ever led for the treatment group. The clients at group that evening profess a number of different religious traditions (including none), but each of them described feeling encouraged and empowered as they described how they positively and meaningfully connect with themselves, with others, and with that which is greater than themselves—and how they would like to grow spiritually as well.

We are all spiritual people. And whether or not we struggle with disordered eating, we all have places in our hearts and our lives where we would like to grow into greater health and wholeness—emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Might this definition of spirituality as connecting inward, outward, and upward help you become more aware of the spiritual dimensions of your life? I hope that, like our clients, you find yourselves encouraged and empowered as you identify ways you would like to grow spiritually.


*This definition draws heavily from Alexandra Pittrock’s article, “How Are Anorexia Nervosa and Spirituality Related, and What Implications Does This Have for Treatment?” found at http://www.rcpsych.ac.uk/pdf/Alexandra%20Pittock%20Anorexia%20Nervosa%20and%20Spirituality.pdf

A Special Note From our Chaplain: For Freedom Christ Has Set us Free

That’s what Paul wrote in his letter to the church in Galatia (Galatians 5:1). It sounds like the most obvious statement ever. What else could we be set free for, if not freedom?

I think Paul was onto something, though—and not just for the Galatian church in the first century. It seems like we often struggle to fully live into the freedom that is available to us. Freedom is wonderful, but it’s also daunting. Freedom implies a release from confines and rules, from structures that keep us closed in. But those confines and rules and structures can also provide us with a sense of order and control. When they’re removed, we can feel like we’re flailing, insecure, out of control.

That’s why I think that one little preposition in Paul’s sentence is so important: for. Real freedom isn’t just freedom from something; it’s freedom for something. It’s not just being released from imprisonment of whatever kind; it’s being released for growth, life, and flourishing.

At Rock Recovery, we talk a lot about freedom. We talk about freedom from disordered eating. But what we want for our clients is more than just freedom from. We want them to experience freedom from disordered eating so that they can experience freedom for all that life has for them, and all that they have to bring to the world. We want them to experience freedom for enjoying the goodness of food as a source of pleasure and as fuel for their bodies to do all the wonderful things their bodies can do. We want them to experience freedom for healthy relationships. Freedom for meaningful work that utilizes their gifts and talents. Freedom for a joyful relationship with their Creator.

It’s for freedom that we’ve been set free. Where might you be experiencing an invitation to move into greater freedom—not just freedom from, but freedom for all that God has made you to be?


Every Dad, Every Day

by  Rick Deise, Past President/Board Member of The Eating Disorder Network of Maryland

I love Father’s Day because my father loved me every day. Growing up, there was never a doubt in my mind that my dad loved me wholeheartedly and unconditionally. Sure, there were moments when we disagreed but there was always a connection that seemed bendable and yet, unbreakable. He was my Hero – from his larger-than-life stories as a combat medic in the South Pacific Campaigns of World War II to the simple, humble way he served family and friends as the “handyman”. Preparing for this Father’s Day, my memory of his life and influence intersects with my memory as a father of two amazing young women; one who faced enormous challenges in a 4-year battle with an eating disorder.

Last month I had the opportunity and privilege to speak to the wonderful participants of the Rock Recovery “Building Bridges, Breaking Bread” event. That message was about my role as a dad who struggled to understand how this thing called Anorexia Nervosa had seemingly taken over my daughter Kristen’s life at the precious age of 15. And I spoke of my “natural instinct” to “fix” this problem because that’s just what dads do – we fix things. Well, clearly, that was one of many early mistakes that I made along the journey of the eating disorder (ED).

So, my story ultimately shifted to what I believe I did to make a positive difference in Kristen’s recovery. The essence of that story was about accepting that the eating disorder was bigger than any problem I had ever faced and required a set of solutions (and tools) that were greater than my understanding of the problem. The solution set really came down to remembering what life lessons my dad had given to me (be kind and gentle, help others whenever you can, always use the right tool for the task, and if you’re going to fix something, do it to the best of your abilities or get help – don’t half-a** the work). Renewing my courage through the memory of my dad led me to discern that his strengths were also my most dependable strengths: LOVE, HOPE, and FAITH.

Give LOVE. And not just any love – unconditional love! Love without any strings or condition is the most powerful antidote to the intolerable suffering imposed by ED. Your loved one has an eating disorder – she is not the eating disorder. Love them to reach tomorrow and give them a reason to love themselves even more. When you give love, you create the fertile space to receive love.

Give HOPE. Once you lay the groundwork of love, you can plant the seeds of hope. Those seeds have names like “Possibility”, “Opportunity”, and “Tomorrow”. They speak of what’s next and they can grow inside your loved one as they work their way to recovery. When you hold hope, you bring light into the dark spaces and that light can help guide your loved one even when she is not really sure how to take the next step.

Give FAITH. At its most fundamental meaning, faith simply believes without seeing. It does not matter what form it takes or what religion you practice, faith is about connecting that which is the greatest within you to something even greater outside of you. When you have faith, you create the sacred space where love and hope can grow.

Today, Kristen is a very healthy and vibrant 27-year old who is in her third year as a Registered Nurse with the University of Maryland Hospital System! As a dad of someone who has recovered from her eating disorder, I marvel how life had taken on new meaning and direction as I continued to “pay it forward” through my volunteer work with the Eating Disorder Network of Maryland and now in support of Rock Recovery.

So, I offer some additional words of wisdom to the dad and moms and siblings and supporters of someone who is currently struggling with an eating disorder. Even though my perspective is one from a dad’s point of view, I believe every heart has the capability to teach and connect with another heart that has the capacity to learn and grow and change the story:

Every heart is a mere 12-15 inches south of the brain so help your loved one keep the two connected by inspiring their thoughts with the safe feelings generated by love, hope, and faith.

Every heart relies on trust in a relationship; build that trust with your loved one by offering to share the truth in exchange for receiving the truth (because we know that eating disorders tell lies).

Every heart has the power to generate an attitude of gratitude; start today, share your gratitude right now. Build rituals that promote an attitude of gratitude at your waking, throughout your day, and at the closing of your evening.

Every heart has a capacity to hold hope – hope is a psychological investment in the future. The future is where your greatest life purpose unfolds. Hold fast to hope and hold hope up to your loved one every moment of every single day.

Every heart holds a story and the most important story you will ever tell about yourself is the story you tell to yourself: be courageous – it’s time to change your story to hope and recovery! 

In closing, I offer to you my Prayer for Recovery:

Have FAITH that your LOVE will sustain the HOPE in your loved one’s recovery. AMEN!

One Father’s Fight to Help His Daughter Heal

I remember the first meal I ate at Rock Recovery with my daughter.  It had been some time since I learned she had an eating disorder, and by now the illness was not as completely baffling to me as it had been at first.  I had started off as the Classic Clueless Dad, wondering what the problem could be, probably hurting more than helping with awkward comments and reactions.  At one level, I knew that eating disorders could be serious, even fatal:  Before any of our kids were born, my wife and I had known a woman who literally starved herself to death (massive kidney failure was the proximate cause) through anorexia.  But that couldn’t possibly have anything to do with my daughter.

For one thing, life couldn’t be that unfair.  It had hit her with leukemia when she was only four years old.  It had made her endure childhood trauma that we didn’t find out about for years afterward.  In her freshman year of college, fibromyalgia literally left her walking with a cane.

So when the reality was undeniable, I was angry, I was resentful, and I was probably very little help.

The meal was not, to be honest, the most comfortable experience I had ever had.  I was conscious that everyone was conscious of how everyone else was eating.  I was not sure how to proceed.  I slowed down, made vacuous comments about how good the food was, felt my face flush.

It was a little awkward.  And yet I was participating in a healing, through food.

Food fills life’s meaningful moments.  The wedding cake, the Thanksgiving spread, the covered dishes after the funeral.  We eat together when it matters most.

The world’s great faith traditions see food as a point of contact with the infinite.  Whether Seder, Eucharist or breaking the Ramadan fast, food has always informed faith.

Food even helps guide life decisions.  I can honestly say that one of the things that convinced me I was meant to marry my wife of (now) 33 years, and not the woman I had been dating seriously before I met her, was that the woman I would marry loved and enjoyed food, and my other girlfriend didn’t.

So although my primary worry about my daughter’s eating disorder was its effect on her physical and mental health and her relationships, there was always another source of pain and anxiety, just beneath the surface:  How sad that she can’t enjoy one of life’s greatest graces!

Rock Recovery brought her that grace, and more.

It was not her first treatment for eating disorder.  She had sought help once she recognized she had a problem, and I think she benefited from therapy and the friends she made there.  But I noticed a difference once she got involved with Rock Recovery – maybe a renewed sense of purpose, maybe a stronger determination to finish the work, maybe a lot of things. But whatever it was, it took her to a good place.

I always had the feeling that the faith dimension of Rock Recovery was the most important part.  Not that the group insisted on a particular religious approach or orientation; as far as I could tell, they didn’t.  I never had the impression they were preaching or proselytizing.  They just seemed to be putting into practice what they believed, without pretense or self-righteousness.  (The scripturally-inclined may consult James 2:14-18 as a good description of how I perceived Rock Recovery’s approach.)

My daughter is now married, working in health care policy and the caregiver of a good-sized dog.  She loves food and cooking for others and herself.  One of this summer’s rituals is having her younger siblings, home from college, over for dinner.  Her husband has supported her through everything.  The change in her is amazing and wonderful, and life-affirming.  The fearful young woman who stirred her food around the plate but didn’t eat it now loves eating good food.  (I might add that the suffering young woman who walked with a cane now runs marathons, literally.)

Now back to that first Rock Recovery meal.  Eventually, some time before dessert, I realized:  It’s stupid for me to feel self-conscious about how I’m eating.  Get a grip:  For everyone else at this table, this is not just eating.  It is work.  It is hard and necessary work.  It is important.

And so it remains.

Make a donation this Father’s Day & save more fathers from the pain of seeing their child struggle with an eating disorder.


A Special Note From Our Chaplain: What is it About Forgiveness That Makes It So Vital to Recovery?

“We’re going to spend some time tonight talking about forgiveness,” I said to the clients at treatment group a few weeks ago. Eyes rolled—good-naturedly, I think—around the table. “Ugghh,” said one. “That’s what my therapist wants me to work on,” said another, as more heads nodded. The clients may not have been very excited about it, but at least I knew I’d hit on an important—and challenging—topic.

What is it about forgiveness that makes it so vital to recovery? I believe it’s so important because at its core, forgiveness is about freedom. It’s about the freedom that comes from not being bound by the harm that others have caused us. Disordered eating is in part a response to pain, an (ineffective) attempt to manage the hurt that we’ve experienced from the wrongs that others have done to us. As long as we hold onto those wrongs, we hold onto the pain as well. It isn’t until we let go of the wrongs that we can be let go of the pain and be free of the ineffective, harmful coping mechanisms we’ve used to try to deal with them.  

All of us—whether we struggle with disordered eating or not—have been hurt by someone else. That’s because we’re human, and humans are imperfect, and imperfection causes hurt, whether intended or unintended. No matter who we are or what our life has been like, we have all experienced being wronged by someone else. And when we’ve been wronged, we very naturally want the wrong to be rectified, to be made right. We feel the need for the harm that has been done to us to be accounted for, to be punished or at the very least to be acknowledged and apologized for.

We’re not wrong to feel that way; after all, justice is about the setting right of wrongs, and justice is a good thing. Ideally, wrongs should be set right. But often they aren’t, or they can’t be. And in those situations, if we continue to hold onto the wrong that’s been done to us, then we are in a way bound by it. If we can instead name the wrong and then choose to let it go, we can step into healing and freedom.

At treatment group that evening, we discussed some of the steps of forgiveness:

  1. Name the wrong that has been done. Acknowledge your pain and anger. Allow yourself to feel disrespected.
  2. Be specific about your future expectations and limits. Forgiving someone doesn’t mean you’re giving that person permission to behave badly toward you.
  3. Let go of your right to “get even,” but insist on being treated better in the future.
  4. Work to let go of blame, resentment, and negativity toward the person who wronged you.
  5. If it is safe and appropriate to do so, communicate your act of forgiveness to the other person.
  6. If it is safe and appropriate to do so, work toward reconciliation with that person.

What we emphasized in our conversation that evening is true for all of us: that forgiveness is a process—one that takes time, and that we can only begin from where we actually are. For some of us, that means we’re just learning to embrace Step 1; we’re just beginning to be able to assert that what was done to us was wrong and to allow ourselves to feel angry about it. Or maybe we’re learning about Step 2 and how to set healthy boundaries with the person who’s hurt us. Whatever step we’re on, we need to give ourselves the time and grace to fully experience and work through that step.

Forgiveness is not something that can be rushed. Nor is it something that can be required or demanded. Forgiveness is real only when it is a gift that is freely offered. But the beautiful thing is that ultimately, forgiveness is a gift that we give ourselves, as well—the gift of stepping into healing and freedom.

My Hope for My Daughter (Special post by Communications Manager, Brittany Coleman)

Being a mother is a beautiful, challenging and unique experience. This year I celebrated my second Mother’s Day, and with each passing year, I start to think more about the values and life lessons I want to instill in my daughter. I know first hand, how the influences of society can impact a young girl’s self-esteem and view of themselves.

With social media, magazines and influential advertisements, I can’t imagine the kinds of societal pressures that young girls face today and will face in the future. Despite these societal pressures, I want my daughter to always remember these important lessons that I’ve learned throughout my life.

“Pleasant words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the bones.” Proverbs 16:24  

The words we speak have so much power in our lives and affects us mentally, spiritually, and physically. Choose your words wisely and try not speak negatively about your perceived flaws, but to be kind to yourself and give yourself some grace.

Always Do Your Best…and accept that it is good enough.

Life isn’t perfect, and neither are you, and that in itself is perfectly imperfect. Even if things don’t turn out as planned, your mistakes and shortfalls allow you opportunities to learn and grow. Every day is a new beginning.

You Are Beautiful Just The Way You Are

You are beautifully and wonderfully made and there are so many people that love and accept you just the way you are. Know that beauty is found in not just your physical appearance or the number on the scale but in your kindness, your smile, and all of those special qualities that make you who you are.

It is my hope that these lessons that I share with my daughter will help her have a positive view of herself and her outlook on life. I hope that one day she will also be able to share these lessons with her own daughter.

A Special Note from Our Chaplain: Life Gets Better With Recovery

If you’ve ever cleaned out a closet or reorganized your kitchen cabinets or (worst of all) packed for a move, then you’ve no doubt experienced the truth of this little maxim: It gets worse before it gets better.

It gets worse before it gets better because all of the stuff that used to be contained behind closed doors or in drawers or stashed away in the attic is now out in full view. Stuff you use every day. Stuff you hadn’t looked at or thought about in years. Stuff you kind of knew was there but didn’t really want to deal with. And now, because it’s been brought out into the open, you’ve got to figure out what to do with it. Keep it? Throw it away? Give it to someone else? Find some new use for it? Making all of those decisions can be exhausting. And inevitably there are piles and messes as you sort through everything. Eventually you’ll get through it all, get everything where it needs to go, and end up with a pristinely organized closet or kitchen or house. But until then, it’s a mess. It gets worse before it gets better.

Recovering from an eating disorder can feel similar. As we journey into recovery, lots of thoughts and feelings, questions and memories start to emerge—the emotional “stuff” that we had stashed away or covered up with food and disordered eating behaviors. And sorting through all of that stuff is hard. Really hard. We have to decide what to do with it all: what of those things we’ve always thought or felt is actually true, and what isn’t? What patterns of behavior are worth keeping—and what do we want to get rid of for good? Which people in our lives are supportive of our recovery and freedom, and which relationships do we need change or end? Working through all of these questions (and others) is difficult and exhausting. Sometimes it even feels more difficult and exhausting than the eating disorder did. In the journey through recovery, sometimes it feels like it gets worse before it gets better.

There’s good news, though—and that good news is why Rock Recovery exists. The good news is that it actually does get better. We really can sort out all of that emotional stuff, hang on to what is good, and get rid of what we don’t need. We really can enjoy the lasting freedom of recovery. It can be hard for a long time—but it gets better.

And there’s more. The good news is also that it’s in community that it gets better. Whether that’s experienced in the support a fellow client offers in treatment group, the patient understanding a friend offers someone who’s struggling, or the prayer and financial support that you offer Rock Recovery—it’s in honest and caring community that it gets better.

And finally, the good news is that God helps it get better. God doesn’t leave us on our own in the recovery journey; he doesn’t come in, look at the mess of our emotional “stuff,” and tell us to call when we’ve gotten it all put away. God promises to walk with us through all of it, and God is far more committed to its getting better—to our getting better—than we ever could be.

For those struggling with disordered eating, sometimes recovery feels like everything is just getting worse. But it does get better. It gets better in community. And God helps it get better. That’s good news indeed.

Client Spotlight: Pasta & The Power of Recovery

unnamedRecovery is a journey, one that may begin with a single step but requires many more.  There are steps backwards, hours spent standing perfectly still, and days on your knees praying for the strength not to simply give up and lie down.  In the span of that time, for me there are two moments that define my journey.

The first moment occurred on February 14, 2009.  I had begun treatment for anorexia the week before and my then boyfriend, now husband, had come down to visit and celebrate Valentine’s Day.  We arrived at the Italian restaurant where I had made a reservation for a romantic dinner.  What they hadn’t told me when I made the reservation was that they were serving a fixed, four course menu for the holiday.  I still remember sitting at the table, sobbing over my salad as my husband held my hand and reassured me that the two following courses would be okay.  We would get through this together.  He meant the meal, but the same was true of the work in recovery that had to occur over the next few years.

Between that moment, when what should have been a lovely night turned into a catastrophe, and this, where I consider myself fully recovered, are countless hours of therapy, many more tears shed over dozens of plates, months and even years spent “in recovery.”  I had never learned how to enjoy food or how to eat to fuel my body to go through life.  One of the most powerful experiences in my recovery was attending group meals at Rock Recovery.  Eating in community was a new experience; learning the things food could do to make my body strong and healthy was a revelation.

I don’t know the date or time when I crossed from “in recovery” to “recovered” but I do know what it means to be recovered.  It means that instead of crying over a salad, my husband and I sit down one night to gleefully watch a cooking show.  We see a recipe that captivates us and decide to try our own hand at it.  That weekend we spend hours talking about our future and our dreams as we fold small ravioli.  Then we sit and smile at each other as we devour the delicious fruits of our labor, hearts untinged by old fears and full only of joy and gratitude.

Breaking Bread & Opening Eyes

“Then they told what had happened on the road, and how [Jesus] had  been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.” – Luke 24:35 (NRSV)

breaking bread

Every Rock Recovery treatment group begins with a shared meal. There are several reasons for that. For someone struggling with disordered eating, completing a normal meal without engaging in eating disorder behaviors can be a huge challenge; the presence and support of a therapist, a dietitian, and others in recovery can make a huge difference in that person’s ability to overcome that challenge. Then there’s the fact that both professional and social events often revolve around food (the business lunch, the holiday meal with family). Sharing a meal in the safe environment of treatment group serves as practice for clients, helping them develop confidence in their ability to navigate the complex emotions that eating in a public environment can create.


But in addition to these clinical rationales for sharing a meal, I think there’s a spiritual one too: breaking bread (or eating pasta or cheeseburgers or pizza) together helps us to know each other and be known in a deep and enduring way.


Luke’s gospel tells the story of Jesus’, after his resurrection, appearing to two of his disciples as they were walking from Jerusalem to Emmaus. But the disciples didn’t recognize Jesus. He talked with them as they walked, discussing everything that had happened in Jerusalem: Jesus’ trial, crucifixion, and burial. Throughout it all, the disciples had no idea who this person walking with them was. It wasn’t until they ate together that Jesus’ identity became clear to them; as Luke puts it, Jesus was “made known to them in the breaking of the bread.”


Clearly there’s a reference here to Communion, the Christian celebration of Jesus’ last meal with his disciples before his crucifixion. But I think there’s also a broader truth that Luke’s words express: that we can become known to each other in a unique and profound way by sharing a meal together. When we eat together, we acknowledge our common vulnerability—that our lives depend on our bodies’ being regularly nourished with food. But when we eat together, we also acknowledge our common strength—that when we do feed our bodies well, we can use them to accomplish all kinds of remarkable things. That combination of vulnerability and strength lies at the heart of what makes us human. And so when we share that vulnerability and strength by eating together, we come to know in an experiential way how much we have in common. We come to know that we belong to one another.


That’s why I believe that breaking bread together is such an important part of Rock Recovery’s treatment program. And it’s why this year, for the first time, our annual fundraiser will center around sharing a meal together. At Building Bridges—Breaking Bread, you’ll do more than have the chance to learn about and support the work that Rock Recovery does throughout the DC area. You’ll get to experience the hope and freedom that can come when we become known to each other in the breaking of bread.


It’s a joy and a privilege to break bread with Rock Recovery’s clients each month, and it will be a joy and privilege to do the same with you at Building Bridges—Breaking Bread. I hope to see you on May 7!

Volunteer Spotlight: Carly’s Story – Finally Free



I felt trapped. In my own body. I would look in the mirror and see all of the things wrong with the girl standing there in front of me, no matter how thin I became. I would go to the grocery store and become dizzy and stressed from staring at all of the nutrition facts before I put a food item in my cart. I would go to bed hungry as long as it meant I could feel my rib cage − and to think this all started when I was just 9 years old…

When I think about my struggle with anorexia and disordered eating, I recognize that it has been a constant battle for half of my life. I am not completely sure why it started exactly; I think it was a combination of things, but I can honestly tell you that I never thought I would be able to overcome it. It was just part of who Carly was and always would be.

My senior year of high school was the hardest year for me because this is when I struggled the most. I remember when I lost a drastic amount of weight, my dad was sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. “What can I do to help you Carly? Please tell me. I can’t stand seeing you this sick.” I never saw my dad look that sad or defeated in my entire life and it made my heart ache because he is my rock and my hero. However, I did not know what to tell him. I thought I looked fine; in fact, I thought I could lose more weight. How I looked still wasn’t good enough…

My teachers and friends at school became worried too, but it didn’t matter to me at the time. All I thought about was losing more and more weight until I was satisfied with my appearance, whenever that would be.

Then, college came around and I realized my college career and life could go down two very different roads. I could continue heading down the dangerous, destructive path I was already on and become even sicker (my doctor told me that if I continued I would cause my body permanent damage and wouldn’t be able to have children in the future, and as a result of my current eating behaviors, I had already become severely anemic and developed a thyroid disorder), or I could try and overcome this once and for all and let it go. Let myself be free… To everyone else’s surprise, and mine, I did just that.

I remember coming back home for the first time since I left for college, and my dad had tears in his eyes. But this time, it wasn’t because he was worried or scared – but because he was happy. I had overcome what had eaten away at me for so long and finally could eat something without feeling guilty or sick. I was finally free…

People frequently ask me how I overcame my eating disorder and there were several factors that led to my recovery. But the driving one was I decided on my own and for myself that this was not the way I wanted to live my life anymore – I didn’t want to go through life constantly worried about what I was eating and how many calories I was taking in each day. Even though I lived this way for so long, I always thought that there had to be a better, happier, freer life waiting for me and now that I am ED free, I realize that I was right.  

Ultimately, my struggle with an eating disorder is why I now volunteer at Rock Recovery. I truly want to help other men and women who are struggling with disorder eating. More specifically, I want to let them know that they are not alone and that freedom and recovery are possible. Posting motivational messages, testimonials and creative recovery campaigns on Rock Recovery’s social media handles helps me achieve just that.

In closing, I once heard this quote when I was struggling with my eating disorder that I never thought I could achieve. It goes like this, “And I said to my body, softly ‘I want to be your friend.’ It took a long breath and replied, ‘I have been waiting my whole life for this.” Each and every day, I now try to live by this quote. Although it’s not always easy and I do still struggle at times, I now actively choose to love my body and be its friend. Thank you for letting me share my story with you.

Your friend in recovery,



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