Opening up about your struggles is one of the hardest things I've ever had to face. Opening up about it with someone you used to care so much about but you haven't had any contact with in the past 7 years, it's even worse. It's one of those things you never think of doing but once you are there, in the moment, it just comes out.
The beginning of my problem isn't documented, it happened after some comments from people that thought it was okay to comment on the size of a teenager, nothing wrong could've happened, right?
Somehow those words got to me and moved something that I never really thought about, I was 15, I shouldn't have to think of that.
It didn't matter how hard I tried, everyone was still talking, some good some bad. My parents caught up with the problem quite quickly, asking questions, taking precautions but even then, nothing could stop the vicious cycle I got myself into. Food was an enemy and it wasn't meant to enter my body.
Whenever I talk about this it always comes down to why did I do this to myself? Why didn't I just ate something? and how did I "recover"? And I always make it seem like it was a problem that just stopped, suddenly I started eating again, when in reality it took years of therapy and seeing doctors, because my health had been compromised and eating wasn't as easy as it was for everyone else.
I saw how his face changed, from happy to worry and pity, two of the feelings I've avoided for as long as I can remember, the main reason for my silence about this.
A part of me regretted it right there and then, he was feeling sorry for myself, for what I did and kept on doing for years, and my heart broke. I was no longer the girl he idolised years back, because now that he saw me broken he thought he had the right to put me back like I was one of his life projects.
The illusion broke when he told me to eat with him, to accept an invitation to my favourite place. I know he was saying it with the best intention but the way he worded it made it feel like I was a sick kid that he needed to take care of. I felt so vulnerable and broken, like all the work I've been putting on myself was for nothing.
I declined the invitation and went home feeling tired emotionally and physically. I realised I couldn't do that with everyone because telling someone to eat isn't going to cure their eating disorders but showing support will do.