I went from really hating my body, to disliking it, to accepting it but not exactly liking it, then accepting it and liking it, and now I love it.

Oftentimes, especially during my recovery, I didn't need to think about everything I was doing wrong; instead, I needed to focus more on what I was doing right-and then do more of the right stuff. I needed to live more in the solution.

Recovery is about making room for the real me to exist.

Anita Johnston, Ph.D., author of Eating in the Light of the Moon, taught me to look in the mirror with curiosity rather than fear. So I may look at my reflection and think, 'That's interesting. I wonder why my body seems bigger today than it did yesterday. Maybe it's water weight. Maybe it's my outfit. Or maybe my eyes are just playing tricks on me.' I know it's not possible for me to gain a noticeable amount of weight overnight, so I will go no further than that. I move on with my day without skipping a beat-and definitely without missing a meal.

Sometimes I felt lonely because I pushed people away for so long that I honestly didn't have many close connections left. I was physically isolated and disconnected from the world. Sometimes I felt lonely in a crowded room. This kind of loneliness pierced my soul and ached to the core. I not only felt disconnected from the world, but I also felt like no one ever loved me. Intellectually, I knew that people did, but I still felt that way.

Real hope combined with real action has always pulled me through difficult times.

Being thin created intense anxiety that I wouldn't be able to maintain that weight for life, and I couldn't.