Mental illness and all of her friends.

Monday was a tough day. I said something I didn’t really mean. Actually, I’m lying. I did mean it. If she doesn’t start eating she is going to die. And I don’t really think she wants to be alive right now. A tough call and the wrong choice of words. The recipe for a disaster.

My head has been running a mile a minute since then. I feel guilty. I know that eating disorders are tough. I know that in her heart she doesn’t want to die. She just wants to be fucking perfect. And I know that deep down she must know this wrong but at the same time this is everything she knows. She’s standing at a crossroad. Heading nowhere.

If I could just find my words I’d tell her… I’d tell her that it does get better over time. That she will want to dance again. And that tights must touch so you can hear them laugh together. I wish I could tell her that one day she will meet someone that will love her for all the beautiful things she already is and not the ones she wishes she was. And I wish she could come to my wedding. And see me have children. And stop staring at her own life from the sidelines. I wish. I really do. I do so much it breaks my heart.

So today I just want to quickly remind all of you that if you are having a bad body image day,this too shall pass. That you are beautiful. And that your curves bear the weight of all the pretty things you are. Because you are indeed. Pretty. Brave. Strong. Powerful.


All my prayers are with you… I’m rooting for you (…..)


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