Dear Kier - Entry 1

Dear Reader,

I don't know if I ever really knew how to answer the question, “How did you get better?”

For a long time, I thought getting better meant that one day I would wake up and the thoughts would just be gone. That food would never feel complicated again. That I would never have a fear around eating something, or have a moment where an old thought crept back in.

That isn't really what happened. The biggest change came when I finally started doing the actual healing.

Therapy was a huge part of that for me. I had to start understanding why I was using food, my body, and control as a way of coping in the first place. I had to learn how to sit with uncomfortable feelings instead of trying to control them through my eating.

And honestly, I needed people.

I have been incredibly lucky to have so much support around me. People who didn't make food something to be afraid of. People who encouraged me to eat, to take care of myself, and to understand that my body wasn't something I needed to earn the right to live in.

Do I still have moments where certain foods feel scary? Yes.

There are still “fear foods.” There are still days where an old thought can appear, and I have to remind myself that I don't have to listen to it.

But there's a difference now. The thought doesn't get to make the decision for me.

I think that's something I wish I understood when I was younger. Healing isn't necessarily the absence of every difficult thought. Sometimes healing is realizing that a thought can exist without controlling what you do next.

And when I have a harder day, I don't see it as proof that I've failed.

I'm not back at the beginning. I'm just having a hard day.

I also don't think I could have done this alone. Therapy played such an important role in my recovery, and having people I trust who understand me has made such a difference.

So, if you're asking me how I got better, I think the honest answer is: I started choosing healing over control. And then I kept choosing it.

Even when it was uncomfortable. Even when I didn't feel ready. Even when I didn't believe I deserved the life I was trying to build yet. I don't know if I will ever be able to promise you that those thoughts will disappear completely.

But I can tell you that they can become quieter. The voice becomes quieter. Your life can become louder than them. Eventually, you can start realizing that you are so much more than the thing you once thought would define you forever.

You deserve to feel free, too, and I hope you keep choosing that.