When longtime CR reader (and frequent, always insightful commenter)利亚送我这个绿色复苏的故事，前几天，她告诉我花了大约一个月半来写。威廉app这可能是不寻常的，毕竟这些故事都非常亲密，但我有它在我的脑海里，因为我读利亚的叙述，我可以看到她是如何自己多大投入它
I have yet to read a Green Recovery post that didn’t have at least one sentiment I could relate to (usually more). Lia’s post really hit home—the childhood perfectionism, the many years of struggle, the adoption of a vegan diet to manage IBS, the gradual, thoughtful reconciliation of veganism with an ED history, and then the stunning realization that veganism was not something I could doin spite of我的ED的历史：它是，实际上，与我的历史中的种种深刻的方式，我的愈合过程的一个非常现实的一部分。
I hope you’ll take as much away from Lia’s narrative as I have!
I was also a proud carnivore, as I had labeled myself. All through my youth, into my high school years, and throughout freshman year of college my favorite meal was lobster bisque, a rare piece of Filet Mignon, and finally a decadent chocolate souffle. With tastes like these, and a general love for food, it should have come as no surprise that I gained the weight that I did. I was never chubby, but no longer the underweight lady I constantly wished to be. After years of loving food but always comparing my body, weight, and pant size to others, I realized there was something wrong with me, and whatever it was, it seemed like it was out of my control.
Those 5 years were filled with a destructive freshman year where I gained a lot of weight and realized I couldn’t read my body’s signals, an Orthorexic boyfriend who got me into restricting my foods severely and losing that weight plus some, an experiment with veganism in culinary school (my chef hated me!), and a big move to Switzerland. The veganism was pursued out of curiosity for baking techniques and recipe enhancement. I figured I could add some of the unorthodox methods of making sauces and baking into an omnivorous menu. I had, by this point decided I didn’t like what I was doing with my actions surrounding food, so I was making a conscious effort to better myself. Who knew how hard it would be!? There were moments I felt like I would always obsess and it was something I just had to accept. I would always hate myself because it was the only way I knew how to make myself do better. I was going to be stuck and this was my reality. But then, my IBS went away after 1 week of vegan eating.
我也发现我的瑜伽练习,开始喝茶ching at my school in Switzerland, I had been practicing on and off since I was 12, but sharing it with others felt amazing. Contributing to the calm and wellbeing of other people made me want to help people love themselves more and more. Compassion is such an important part of living a fulfilling life, but is often written off. I had found my path, so to speak, and I was going to pursue it with the focus and passion I naturally exude.
During the start of my intentional recovery,我开始写博客mostly so my parents would know what I’m up to on my travels. It was one of the best decisions I’ve made. I found wonderful blogs like Choosing Raw and哦，她光晕这让我想起了一旦被人:we can recover, that we can retrain the way we talk to ourselves, and we can use food as a way of giving love and portraying passion through a healthy and glorious medium. I now teach cooking lessons, both group and private, to people who want to add more whole, plant-based foods into their lives, directing the idea of compassion and love, both for ourselves and all living things, to the kitchen and to the foods we eat. I also assistant manage and teach at a yoga studio, where I host most of my vegan cooking workshops.
It is somewhat surreal to say these things now, as if from a distance, able to acknowledge and identify what it was that was going on. While you’re in the thick of it, feeling helpless and tiny, you can’t see the forest, just the roots you’re stumbling over.
The line that really stuck with me in Lia’s story was,“do you want to give all of this up?”
I think most people with ED’s go through a phase—and maybe this phase lasts the duration of their disorders—where they try to reconcile their disorder with a normal life. I remember coming up with all sorts of plans about how I could eat just enough to avoid confrontation with concerned family members, mask the limited intake somehow (maybe I could say it was related to my IBS? A food allergy? Stomach flu? I’d think of something…), and then stay whippet thin and food-phobic for life, all the while doing everything I thought I was entitled to: socializing, dating, professional advancement, exercise, fun.
Every time I have had a hard moment in my own recovery—stressful situations that goad to start skipping meals, days in which I struggle to accept my body, tensions and problems that I used to resolve by starving—I ask myself “do you want to give all of this up?” “All of this” is my life, which may sometimes be stressful, but is bursting at the seams with good friends, good food, interesting relationships, travel, spontaneity, and the energy and good health with which to embrace it all. Would I want to give it up, all so that I could shrink back into the person I used to be? (Shrink—what an apt word to associate with EDs.)