I care more about how much I eat than I care about almost anything.

Having an eating disorder happens kind of sneakily. It happens fairly slow. Maybe a really thin friend says she’s fat. Maybe a guy friend in a joking way pinches your tummy. Maybe you watch too many TV shows with girls that weigh 100 lbs and are 5’10”. There are many factors that contribute to a girl taking the steps to where she becomes obsessed with her weight.

In my situation, it began with gaining my freshman fifteen. This was in effect to having Taco Bell twice a day for multiple semesters in a row and eating anything I wanted in between, kidding myself that playing volleyball for 15 minutes every two days would burn off the calories. I didn’t feel good about myself nor did I feel comfortable with how I looked. One day I decided this needed to change. I didn’t think much about what I was eating, but realized it was time to hit the treadmill.

And so it began. I would run a mile a day. The feeling was unlike one I had ever experienced because I had never put myself in a situation where I would gerbil run for any time at all.

After two weeks of running a mile, the time went up to a mile and a half. I felt pretty good that I had made a goal and stuck so faithfully to it.

The mile and half went to two miles. I would increase my speed every week as well, and I could feel myself becoming more reliant on my exercise everyday.

I became addicted to the endorphins and counted on my workout to relieve any stress I was experiencing. It didn’t seem to be a problem at all, and at first it was a healthy lifestyle decision that I knew was keeping me from going crazy and gaining weight during college.

Things started to progressively become more of an addiction. I would challenge myself to see how long I could go without eating that day. I would start to feel anxious until I had worked out. By the winter of age 20, my days revolved around my workout schedule rather than my running working around me. I was dedicated without a doubt, but it was slowly creeping into an obsession.

The Fall of that same year I started to comprehend that I was adapting a sort of lifestyle I had always claimed to despise. My sisters growing up struggled with eating and exercise disorders since they turned 15. I was six at the time and unaware of the complexities of such a disorder. Growing up I watched and observed their habits and never saw myself getting close to a situation where I would feel the same about my body. I had never understood what drove them to such great lengths to look a certain way. My understanding quickly grew, and my sympathy for them turned into full on empathy.

That Fall semester my habits seemed to further solidify themselves. I wouldn’t eat until about 5:00 PM. I would feel huge if I ate toast for breakfast or cereal for lunch. I would have a few Wheat Thins or green grapes and then hit the gym. I would then go on the elliptical or treadmill for 50 minutes. In the evening I would come home, my roommate would make muddie buddies, I would gorge until I felt physically ill and then go to bed. I could feel myself feeling anxious as I counted the calories in my mind. I would drift to sleep as my mind would be consumed of thoughts of running my calories off and of how I’ll eat “better” the next day—better meaning less. Much less.

I realized very slowing that my day was being controlled by what I would eat, what time I could workout and how long I would do so. My eating and workout habits took precedence over almost everything else. It seemed to control my life more than anything else.  Social activities would be put on the back burner. Sleep was instantly sacrificed. Homework would come after I finished running. I recalled how my sisters allowed this same problem dictate simple choices they made. They would only do things that worked according to their workout schedule. They wouldn’t be able to function until they had ran that day. I realized I didn’t want the same thing to happen to me, and I saw where this was going.

I’m glad I realized the problem I was beginning to have before it controlled my life as much as it could have.  It’s an issue most girls face at one time or another. It’s a struggle I seem to still have and will likely have for a very long time. Many girls feel they are fat simply due to the fact their thighs touch. I am such a girl.

The odds are any girl has felt they were too fat at some point. We’re all faced with insecurities and this is one many girls share. I personally try to remember what I find more important and try to understand that I don’t benefit from any negative thoughts having to do with my body or myself. Instead, I try to remember that everyday I have a body that I am blessed with. I am able to walk, I can run, I can function. This is a blessing in itself I don’t thank the Lord enough for. We can make choices in life. We can decide to embrace what we are given, or focus on what we think we are missing.

As I made an effort to continuously remind myself of these things, I started to change. My priorities shaped into what I knew was more important rather than what I the world thought. Making the conscience effort to be positive and happy was one of the best decisions I’ve made. As the mind can only think of one thing at once, I made the effort to truly drown my mind into thoughts that encouraged me rather than tore me down.  If you struggle with the same, make the choice now to love your body for what it is and embrace the physical elements we were all blessed with.