When I was little, I got my first pair of glasses. Before that I didn’t even know that I couldn’t see. I never saw a plane in the sky. My mom would say to me, look up in the sky  to see the plane. I would say okay, but I never saw the plane. Everything in my life was fuzzy. I thought this was how the world was supposed to be. Everything blended together, and it was a blur. I couldn’t see far at all. This is how eating disorders are. They are insidious. You don’t even know what you are missing. In my eating disorder, there was no light. I couldn’t see far at all. I definitely could not see into the future. I could not hold hopes or dreams.

Come the day I got glasses, I remember noticing all the individual blades of grass. Initially, to see all the shades and outlines of objects was quite overwhelming. It is like recovery, when I first began to feel and see things in color. It was overwhelming and scary, and then it became beautiful. For example, when I began to hold my own hope and look for it. This was a precious gift. When I searched out joy and truly laughed. I was present for life in moments rather than just existing.  Instead of waiting on the sidelines, I put my arms out to run on the beach. I felt the wind in my face and sand in my toes. This is recovery. I started showing up in the fun and the hard. I am learning to be messy and unapologetic about my life.