One of my professors, on the first day of class, pulled up on the projector a list of 50 words. Authenticity; Justice; Integrity; Inner Harmony; Productivity; Independence; Love; Family.  

Core values. Values that highlight what we stand for, that guide our behaviors and our decisions and our actions. Values that guide our lives.   

“I want you to take a few moments,” my professor said, “and read over these words. Think about them and what they mean to you; what they evoke in you. And then write down your top ten.” 

I was 22 when I was a diagnosed with an eating disorder, although my eating disorder tendencies began long before then. Like many other courageous individuals, I sought treatment, even though I was in complete denial. Unlike many others, I did not have a family circle filled with support; people with whom I could speak openly and candidly about the difficulties, fears, and sorrows of the recovery process. 

And, as I recover, I am learning that my story is different. And that is SO okay. 

My dad didn’t know what to do to help me with my eating disorder.  

So, he did what he’s really good at and passed along some numbers: (800) 931-2237 (He’s an engineer.) I still have that handwritten piece of paper. Thank you, Dad.  

Calling those ten digits for help was a huge leap of faith. At that point in my life, no one knew I had an eating disorder except for my parents and the boyfriend who made me tell them (Now, I can say thanks to him, too.). 

I am not telling anyone else. 

Thank you to Eating Recovery Center for sponsoring this blog post in conjunction with Eating Recovery Day on May 7, 2019. 

Dear Me– 

I know, it’s been a while since we’ve talked. I mean, really talked. Not just “What do you want to watch on Netflix?” talk, feelings talk. 

“Checking in with yourself” talk.

“Remembering your worth” talk. 

Hi, everyone! My name is Ali, and I’ve been a fat activist for quite a while now. So, what am I doing here, on an eating disorder organization’s blog, talking about fat people stuff?

Well, I think of fat people stuff and eating disorder stuff like chocolate and peanut butter—they just kind of go together. Sure, we can talk about them separately, but why should we? Especially when some people can relate to BOTH.

This week, during Shabbat morning worship, Jews around the world will read the foundational laws of kashrut (Jewish dietary law) from the Torah. These laws are extensive and specific because they describe the species of land, air, and sea animals that are kosher. In the thousands of years since this first iteration of kashrut, Jewish legal authorities have interpreted and expanded upon the original rules. Today, kashrut is a system of procedures for harvesting, preparing, and serving food, which people follow with varying levels of strictness. 

Dear Teenage Jessica, 

Once upon a time… Well, this is no fairytale. I want to start at the end and work my way back, like one of those flashback episodes of a TV crime drama. So here goes, my name is Kymberly. Currently, I live in NYC and am working on building a career out of my everything passions art and dance, helping people feel and live better, and lifting heavy things. So far, so good. What’s interesting to me, however, is that when I look back on everything I’ve been through and everything I’ve accomplished, I see it’s in fact the struggles I’ve faced that have made me successful at what I do.

Equine-assisted therapy has been an emerging form of psychotherapy in recent decades. While research has demonstrated its efficacy in treating mental health diagnoses such as PTSD, autism, and mood disorders, research regarding equine-assisted therapy and eating disorders is lacking. As a therapist using the Equine-Assisted Growth and Learning Association (EAGALA) model of equine-assisted psychotherapy (EAP), I have been able to observe how aspects of the model and working with horses in general could be beneficial in the treatment of eating disorders.

When I logged onto Facebook this morning, a friend had posted the following excerpt from Margaret Atwood’s poem Shapechangers in Winter:

This is the solstice, the still point

of the sun, its cusp and midnight,

the year’s threshold

and unlocking, where the past