Lily Girls Magazine

By Jenny Gallagher

Words I like…yearning, hope, patient in affliction, He loves me more.

I knew it was okay to cry now. Tucked underneath the covers in my bed, no one would ever need to know that tears were streaming down my cheeks. How in the world did I get to this point? I was shaking with fear and shame. I would’ve never imagined I would struggle with an eating disorder.

I had convinced myself that I was fine for so long. I work out a lot, but that’s healthy…isn’t it? I eat, and I don’t binge or purge. Therefore, I had concluded, I was fine.

What I didn’t realize was how distorted my reality had slowly become. My “meals” now consisted of a piece of fruit or maybe a few bites of whatever was being served, but in my mind, others were over-indulging and I had the ability to exercise self-control. Little did I realize, quite to the contrary, how the need to control my calories was actually controlling me.

Honestly, I did like working out and eating healthy. In a society where self-discipline is admirable, my questionable eating and exercising patterns were initially excused, sometimes even considered commendable. These can be good things, but they had become my obsession. I lost the first few pounds innocently enough, but a few pounds led to a few more pounds, and now I had become a slave to making my body look a certain way.

Was this a sin? Was it a sickness? I didn’t know. Maybe some of both, but whatever it was, I felt trapped and so alone. Even though I sometimes knew I was struggling, I still desperately wanted to believe that I was okay. Truth and lies raged in a battle in my mind. This isn’t okay. You’re just very healthy. God created you beautiful. You need to look beautiful in the eyes of the world to be satisfied. As these confusing thoughts became more and more consuming, I felt like my life was spiraling out of my control. I clung tighter than ever to my eating and exercising routine and rearranged my life trying to deceive others about how much I was really eating and exercising.

I had always defined my worth so much by what others thought of me, but now so many people were starting to scrutinize me – both verbally, and through the looks at my bony body that said to me just as much as words ever could. As the physical signs of an eating disorder became apparent, I panicked and quickly lied to anyone who questioned if I was okay. Frantically, I began to isolate myself more and more, but remained just social enough to keep up a friendly facade with my friends and family.

I was tired all the time, and my mental calorie-counter wouldn’t shut off. I felt like a cloud of fear and guilt suppressed oppressed every aspect of my life. My family would be so disappointed. No one would understand. You’re stepped in too far to try to get out of this. God is so disappointed in you. Living these lies were stealing my joy for life, but the fear of not living in this routine anymore compelled me to keep doing what I was doing. How much weight would I gain if I ate something? What if I don’t fit in these clothes anymore? Will people think I’m beautiful? Without really even trying to, I lashed out at my parents and anyone else who tried to help me. There was that part of me that really wanted their help, and still that other part that truly believed the life I was living was healthy. It was scary to feel like I wasn’t even acting like myself anymore.

I’ll get used to this. This is who I am now. Sometimes, I just became numb to the guilt and shame, accepting that this was just going to be the way I lived the rest of my life. Tearfully, I’d look back on better days – the days when I could eat a chocolate chip cookie and not even think about how many calories behind that would put me. I longed to live like that again, but was convinced that I was beyond the point of return. I’d given up on myself.

Thank God that He didn’t give up on me.

Being the loving warrior that our Lord is, He continued to fight for my heart. He repeated to me again and again simple truths. I could never love you any more or less. The world doesn’t define your worth – I do. You are my Beloved. I will fight for you. You can rest in me. He loves us, and we’re never too far gone for Him. Did I really believe that?

Maybe I did. I knew what the Bible said about who I was as a child of God, but that wasn’t changing how I felt about myself. Why can’t I just get over this? Admitting that I needed help to a mentor was my first big step towards recovery. I can’t even describe how scared I was to let down my guard and talk to someone honestly about what was going on, but I’m so glad I did. She showed me such love and acceptance, and helped get me get in touch with a Christian counselor who could help me understand what was going on and who could walk through the healing process with me. After some time with my counselor, I was eventually able to talk honestly with my family and close friends about my struggle. It was so hard (and still is hard) to talk about my struggle with these people, but it’s been critical to my healing. They’ve been so patient and accepting, and loved me enough to even tell me things that are hard to hear.

Well, it’d be great if I could wrap this up with a fairytale ending about my eating disorder being gone and me living happily ever after. But, if complete recovery is that fairytale ending – I don’t have it.  Yes, I’ve experienced a lot of healing and freedom from my eating disorder, but that’s not to say it’s not still there. Most of the time, I eat healthily (for real, now!), work out in moderation, and have a much healthier concept of myself. This being said, some days are harder than others, and there are setbacks along the way. While I’m no longer clinically anorexic, it’s still all too easy to live in a thin cage where I’m far too appearance-concerned. The world loves thinness, and it promises that if you look a certain way, you’ll be happy. This is a lie – a well-crafted lie that deceives many of us so often. Yet to fight this, God’s Word often reminds me that He loves me far too much for me to work hard trying to earn anyone’s approval but His own. He fights for my heart.

I’m learning that perhaps God is more interested in my growing closer to Him through this struggle than He is in overcoming the struggle itself. He could heal me in an instant, but I might not learn as much about Him that way. And praise God that I’m not fighting alone, and that I’m gaining more and more freedom and life all the time! The Lord has used this weakness to drive me to my knees, teaching me that only in Him we can find a never-ending strength and hope. I echo the truth that Paul stood upon in 2 Corinthians 12:9, “He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” His power is so evident in this area where I am so weak.

Sometimes, I still feel so ashamed. But no matter what I’m feeling, I imagine God just throwing His arms open wide and waiting for me to come running into them. He’s not looking for perfect people who “have it all together”, but wants us to come to Him with all that we are, including the parts of our hearts we’re most ashamed of. He brings beauty from ashes, and His light can shine brightly when there seems to be no hope.

Sweet sisters, you are not alone. Satan delights in making us feel defeated, alone, and hopeless. Don’t listen to him. Whether it’s an eating disorder, making image an idol, or any other struggle – we are never too far for God to scoop us up in His arms and quiet us with His love. When we’re in Christ, there is nothing to be ashamed of. May He give us the courage to reach out for help when we’re hurting, and the ability to truly know that we are His beloved, and so dearly loved.