There came a point in my recovery:
- When I could have a day where I felt really dissatisfied with my body, but not automatically let that dissatisfaction see me turning to restriction and over exercise in response.
- When I could look in the mirror and, not particularly like the reflection looking back at me, but not let my whole day, and certainly not my whole week, be ruined because of it.
- When I could resist the urge to tear myself apart because of my perceived ‘faults’, and instead just get on with my day.
- When I could feel respect towards my body and all that it does for me- day in, day out- despite all the pain that I have put it through in the past.
- When I could finally recognise that there is far more to life than remaining stuck in the grips of an eating disorder.
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