I pushed my bowl of cereal away. It wasn’t even a 1/4 cup. And without any milk.
“I hate myself.”
“I’m so ugly.”
“Why was I even born?”
My mind screamed a horde of accusing thoughts.
I had been diagnosed over a year earlier.
For as long as I can remember, I never thought I was beautiful.
Thoughts like, “You’re not pretty enough.” “You’re not outgoing enough.” “Why are you not more like so-and-so?” Would be the constant commentary running through my head.
I spent most days in bed. Crying. Refusing to talk. To eat.
Doctor and hospital trips were becoming the norm.
The words from the doctor, “You are not able to drive anymore.”
60 lbs lost, yet still when I looked in the mirror I cried.
Yes, my God is a God of miracles.
It happened one day. Lying in bed. Tired and weak.
My Dad walked in, placed his hands on my head and prayed.
I don’t remember his exact words, but instantly something in me snapped. I felt it. Was it hope? Freedom?
I went and drank a cup of skim milk.
And that was the beginning.
Sometimes the drive to be someone you aren’t created to be, leaves you broken inside. Hurting.
So you try harder. That voice whispers so taunting, “You’ll never be enough.”
You’re not thin enough.
You’re not outgoing enough.
And sadly, most of us believe the lies.
It controlled me.
My insecurities revealed themselves through my anorexia. But a lot of you hide it well. Trying. Yet failing.
I’ve been free from anorexia for almost nine years now.
When I wrote that down it shocked me. Nine years!
I am married to a beautiful man. He goes by the name, JR. He pastor’s a small church in town and is in love with God.
We have the privilege of being parents to our four-year-old son, Bradley.
God has blessed me. Blessed us.
It wasn’t until a couple weeks ago, after still struggling through years of insecurities, I realized. I am enough! In HIM.
What took me so long to grasp this? Why all those wasted years of trying to be someone I wasn’t created to be? Why did I not realize sooner He created me because He has a plan for me. A plan no one else can fulfill.
And I weep.
Revel in His love.
And He whispers, “My daughter, I love you. You are enough for me.”
I still have a long way to go. Still learning. Failing, yet striving.
Yes, out of brokenness comes beauty.