I Am Not Anorexia.

I Am Not Anorexia.

I am not my illness.

I am recovering from anorexia.

But that is not who I am.

I’m Kelly.

I’m just a regular 26-year old girl who has fought to the bone to regain my ability & desire to EAT, breathe, live & love.

This is something I’ve been fighting for, day in & day out for the past 6 months & it’s something I will continue to do.

These are things anorexia took away from me.

She turned me into a cold-hearted B who was ready to do anything in the world to starve myself until there was nothing left to starve.

I won’t lie, the past few days have been a few of the hardest since I embarked on this rocky AF adventure of recovery.

But I’m a warrior.


Each & every day has made me stronger.

It has made me realize that life without anorexia means I have a bright & beautiful future.

It means I’m the old Kelly.

It means I have a heartbeat.

It means I’m alive.


Trust me when I say that when faced with such a tumultuous, dark & devastating present, a changed ME that I was unable to recognize, a lower than normal heart rate & a look at death right in the eyes, all of these things are that much more valuable.

So, when I tell you I am not my illness, I mean it.

I mean it because I’ve fought too hard to let myself be defined by something that robbed me of absolutely everything that I loved.

Something that sucked my heart, my soul, my compassion & my entire life out of me.

That seduced me, tempted me & made me hate myself.

That destroyed my self-love & self-confidence.


That made me worship her until I ALMOST caved.

But here I am today, ranting away about how I am not ANOREXIA & how I didn’t cave.

For the past 6 months, I’ve been climbing a really high mountain.

Sometimes, I can see the tip.

Sometimes, it seems out of reach.

I’ve taken (mostly) steps up, but the past few days have seemed like almost-steps-back.


That’s when the mind work kicks in.

That’s when I fight CONSTANTLY to remind myself that the views are always better up there & then somehow, I begin to see the light.

The sun rises.

The tip starts to come into my field of vision.


Then, I see the light.

It’s no longer out of reach.

I’m almost there.

The tip is so close, I can ALMOST taste it.

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