It’s a hot, steamy summer day in August 2010.  Perfect day for swimming and relaxing, right? Instead I head to my annual physical and I expect the usual: step on the scale and go take a urine sample.  No, this appointment was entirely different, “Hi I am Doctor Sackler...so you are in the red area of the BMI chart which states you are obese.”  Cool. Just another thing to add to the list of things wrong with me.  I tell myself don’t cry you will look inferior and weak, but I can’t hold it back.  This sets the tone for the rest of my week, year, and life: Do not eat.   

The annual physical before going into 7th grade changed me.  Physically, mentally, emotionally I could not handle being told I was obese.  So as most 12 year olds would do, I stopped eating.  Completely.  After 7 days, I told myself I have to eat, but only one cracker that’s it.  But the cracker was so buttery and flakey that I allowed myself one more, which then turned into an entire box.  I was absolutely disgusted with myself after devouring an entire box and I couldn’t just sit there knowing I did that.

As a child of the technological generation, I googled “ways to get rid of food before digestion”.  That’s when I came across the concept of purging or throwing your food up purposely. Gross I know, but at the time it seemed like my only option.  This one time purge then became an everyday thing and at my worst I would purge up to 30 times a day.  It not only made me feel better and less guilty, but purging my food helped me get rid of all the awful feelings I kept inside. 

I kept purging for over a year and it was only when I had lost a significant amount of weight that my parents suspected something.  I felt so ashamed when we sat down and they confronted me.  I was embarrassed that I had to get help and felt awful that I had now put this tremendous burden on them.  I was so against sharing my feelings that the thought of going to a therapist completely terrified me.  But something inside me said “If you don’t attempt to conquer this disease now, it will ruin the rest of my life or worse, kill me.”  I then got help from a therapist, but talking to someone was not enough.  I still continued with my routine for another 2 years. 

It was not until my sophomore year in highschool that I decided to stop and reconsider my lifestyle choices.  You may wonder what caused me to realize that this was not the way to battle my weight issues? It was a book I read called Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson.  In this book the narrator, Lia, tells the story of how her and her best friend Cassie developed their eating disorders together and how Cassie’s bulimia eventually leads to her death.  This book scared me into reevaluating my life and ultimately made me quit purging.

As I sit here and recall my experience, it makes me realize how far I’ve come, and how much I’ve matured over these years. Having lived with bulimia for over four years, I can now say that I know who I want to be.  My weight is nowhere near where I want it to be, but I will not let a number define me.  I learned that my worth is not determined by whether or not I have a gap between my thighs.  My body is perfect for me and I now reward it instead of deprive it.  What I see in the mirror now is a genuine, hardworking, athletic, and confident woman.  I’ve learned that loving myself for who I am is the greatest thing I can do.