Dear Body,

I hate you. I have never felt more disgusted by all that you are. You have grown too large for me to handle. I cannot hold back the tears at any glimpse of you. I am not allowed and have no desire to learn how much you weigh. I know that it is far beyond what I could ever be okay with. I can feel myself packing on the pounds and fat every second. I feel the intense need to fix you. If only I restrict and exercise. Then, I can fit you better into my definition of good. I honestly would give just about anything to shrink you down to something I am comfortable with. Maybe that could mean being happy with you. Anything is better than having my disgust for you overrule my day. Please just be willing to let me fix you.

The Disordered Emily

 

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Dear Body,

I am learning to appreciate you. I have never had such a difficult time in doing so. You feel too large to handle. The dysmorphia means that mirrors or any glimpse of you only brings tears. I am not allowed to know how much you weigh and I have no desire to. I know that number would only threaten my recovery. It feels like I can tell that you keep growing larger, but this is only one of Ed’s tricks. Ed wants me to focus my life on fixing you. I refuse to go back there because it won’t help anything. Shrinking you means shrinking my spirit and all that is me until I am just a bag of bones. I will never be happy with that mindset. I can work through the disgust I feel now. It won’t last forever. I am so sorry for trying to fix you for so many years. Instead, I will work on acceptance of where you are.`

The Real Emily