Dear Body, Love Self

At this point in recovery every day was starting to get easier. After my questioning/talking/crying/screaming phase I felt that my head was more clear than it had been in years. Each time I went to group a new light bulb seemed to turn on and my body was getting healthier too. I was taking less than half of the laxatives I was when I started and I was finding other ways to deal with my emotions.

I can remember my therapist giving me "coping techniques" for when I was feeling the urge to binge or take a laxative. One idea that has stuck with me is the idea of appealing to any sense but taste. For instance, when I was feeling urge to eat out of stress, sadness, loniliness, etc. I could choose to do something that appealed to sight. This didn't just mean to look at something. It meant to really look at something. So, I could find something that was appealing or interesting to look at and study it. Absorb it. Embrace it. Focus on that one thing for 5-10 minutes. I could listen to music, but I had to listen to every word and sink into the sound. This part of therapy was a huge help to me. By the time I did one of these things, my urge to binge or purge had subsided and I was able to move forward.

When I got down to three laxatives a day I was ready to be done with them. I didn't want to do it gradually anymore. I was just ready to say goodbye to them for good. So, at the beginning of December I stopped taking them completely and I felt insanely free. I had learned that I could survive without coping in that way.

One of my favorite memories from group was close to the end of treatment. One of the therapists was leading a Body Image group. She asked us all to write a letter to our bodies from ourselves. She gave us no other instruction. I was stumped. Everyone else was writing. I couldn't seem to separate myself from my body. My body was part of myself. Wasn't it? The therapist asked me if I was having trouble. "I just don't know what to say." I was finally able to write something. We went around the room and read our letters. I was last. It was emotional listening to these women I had come to love talk to their bodies. Some talked to their bodies negatively, some apologized, but all of them talked about how they wanted to love their bodies. I was last. It took me a minute to gather myself.

"When I started writing this letter my instinct was to write something negative about my body..."

I started to laugh and cry at the same time.

"...but i couldn't. For the first time in years, I had nothing negative to say to my body."

I was smiling so big but tears were streaming down my face and my heart was so full. The therapist and a couple of the other ladies cried too, and the therapist said, "This is why I love my job." This is what my letter said:

Dear Body,

I'm thinking about all you have endured.  I am thinking about the binges, the laxatives, the starvation, the dehydration. You haven't done anything to deserve the abuse I have given to you. You have kept fighting even when I gave you no means to do so. I have hated you so much even when you were fighting to give me a healthy home. I have loathed you even while you were doing beautiful things, like carrying my precious son. I'm so sorry.

I will look at you now with thankfulness, rather than disdain. I will reframe negative thoughts to remember the things you continue to give me. I will remind myself that you are a temporary vessel that is serving its purpose and doing it well.  I will take care of you. I will love you.

Love,
Self

I'm still trying to do these things every day. Some days are harder than others, but when I pull out this letter it helps me remember I am much more than just my body. It has done so much for me, but it's not who I am. I have bigger things to worry about than making this temporary shell look perfect and while I want to keep my body healthy, I want my first priority to be keeping my heart and soul healthy because those are the things that really matter.