i get chills writing this post.
the year: 1999.
the face: all smiles.
bet you’d never guess that my body was filled with christmas cookies and laxatives.
i was a bulimic novice, four months and four days into the deeds.
my mother knew. mothers always do. and she confronted me about it.
in response to her ‘accusations,’ i physically took scissors to my favourite nightgown, the one pictured above, cutting it into to shreds, screaming to her that i hated something that had always been so precious to me, something that she had bought for me: my “pizza on earth” nightgown.
“how can a fat f*cking bulimic, a failed anorexic like me, proudly wear something that pictures pizza?”
those were my exact thoughts, way back then. the memory of those thoughts, the memories of hating my mom, and the present day competence of viewing the photographs in which i clearly wasn’t fat, delivers tears to my eyes.
so i found it, on Sunday. i found the nightgown. on Etsy. and it arrived today!
i’m so fucking happy.
i’m healthy. and i’m now privileged with wearing my pre-eating disordered-life of a nightgown, on each christmas morning, for the rest of my healthy, happy life. i will cry tears of happiness on each christmas morning, appreciating that life, remembering the moments spent with my family, before it all turned to rubbish, appreciating my new life, the one of happiness, forgiveness, and love.
what have you destroyed because of your eating disorder? if possible, how will you repair it? if you’re not disordered, what do you think of this post?
© nicole marie story and nicoleandgwendolyn.com, 2011.