Anonymous

Photography by Colleen Charchut

Before reading, this letter discusses an experience with an eating disorder. If you think that reading about this will be triggering for you, we encourage you to take a pause before reading this letter, center yourself, and prepare any resources you may need to access after reading it. If you’d rather not read this letter, we encourage you to read a letter on a different topic, such as this one.

If you’re reading this, you accept the love you think you deserve.

I wrote that line down after watching The Perks of Being a Wallflower. At the time, I was still attending my fifty-person-per-grade middle school. I had friends, but I didn’t feel like I had a best friend. Someone who I felt completely comfortable around. Someone who I could be my authentic self around without feeling judged. 

So, you must understand the anxiety that came along with leaving my small school to enter a high school with roughly one thousand people in each grade. It was terrifying. If I couldn’t find my roots in what was supposed to be a tight-knit community, how was I supposed to navigate the unknown that was twenty times bigger?

I felt out of control. And as a Type A person, that was a very difficult state to be in. So, I coped by finding things I could control–most significantly, food. There was never a moment when I wasn’t thinking about my next meal. Really, though, it was thinking about how little I would have at my next meal. Does this granola bar have too many calories? What will I eat at a restaurant where I don’t know the nutritional content of what I’m ordering? How can I have as little as possible without anyone noticing?

These thoughts consumed me. What made it worse, though, was that I had so much time to think. My lack of a social life gave my disorder all the time in the world to feed negative thoughts into my mind. I tried therapy, but it only made me shut down more. The underlying issue was, I didn’t want help. And so any help I received was met with resistance.

In an attempt to connect me with my soon-to-be classmates, my parents suggested I join a sports team. I did–but, again, not without some pushback. It was scary to walk onto a campus I didn’t know my way around. It was even scarier when I did find my way to the practice location and only saw unfamiliar faces. 

Little did I know, getting myself out of my comfort zone that first day of practice was the best thing I ever did. I ended up meeting girls who I felt could become my best friends–and they did. We spent hour-long practices getting to know each other. And on top of that, we would make plans to do something together after practice. 

All the free time I had before was quickly replaced by time spent with newfound friends. Little by little, the disordered thoughts went away. Not necessarily because I tried to push them out, but because I was simply too preoccupied.

Now, I always remind myself and those around me that every opportunity is a great opportunity. Who knows who you might meet at an event you weren’t that excited to go to? They may become your next best friend or unknowingly help you solve a problem that desperately needed fixing. 

Anonymous, Northwestern University

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