I first became a practicing bulimic when I was 20 years old. I had a crappy boyfriend who actually encouraged me to throw up. That, coupled with a low self-image and about 30 extra pounds, plunged me into the world of binge-eating and purging.

For those who don’t understand eating disorders, there’s a great book called Understanding and Overcoming Anorexia and Bulimia. After the birth of my first child almost 13 years ago, I was a stay-at-home mom who was obsessed with getting back my pre-pregnancy body. After all, that was my identity. I NEEDED to feel sexy and appealing to others - first and foremost, above all else. As my bulimia took over my life more and more, I knew that I had to get help. I knew for the first time that I was killing myself. I would take my newborn baby to the grocery store and buy Captain Crunch cereal, marshmallows and Rice Krispies for Rice Krispy Treats, chocolate candy bars, ice cream, Velveeta and Rotel for cheese dip, and chips, then go home to eat all day and throw up all day. By the time my husband got home from work, I was a wreck. My electrolytes were screwed up so that I physically and emotionally felt wretched. When I would feel that familiar feeling, I would quickly feed my body some peanut butter to get myself back in balance. I was terrified of going into a coma or passing out with the baby by myself. I finally began counseling at 29.

I’d love to say that I completed counseling and never had another episode. The reality of an eating disorder is much different than that. Unlike an alcoholic who avoids alcohol completely, a person with an eating disorder still has to have daily encounters with food. The body image issues are deep rooted, often related to various situations in childhood. In my opinion, a person never fully recovers from an eating disorder. Instead, you just acquire the tools needed to keep it under control.

For me, I avoid Mexican food most of the time. Cheese dip is a huge “trigger” food for me. Ice cream is another one. Junk cereal is also a trigger for me. Pizza used to be, but thankfully, I’ve learned to enjoy it in moderation. Seldom will you find “trigger” foods in my house. I used to feel bad for Rowland and the kids that they can’t have these things around, but I’ve learned that my health, both physical and mental, is more important in their lives than their being able to have ice cream any time!

I’ve also learned through the years that I become very anxious when a special occasion is coming up. Preparing for the cruise that we’re going on in February is an excellent example. Rowland and I will have 9 days together in the sun! I’m excited, but the stress of wearing a bathing suit, wearing evening gowns, fitting into my shorts, and just feeling good about my body while we’re on this “special” vacation have thrown me into a whirlwind of distressing thoughts. Instead of being able to buckle down and make good food choices and work out a little more consistently, I become obsessed with all of the bad choices that I make, causing me to make even more bad choices, causing me to end up back in the binge/purge cycle. Yes, at 42 years old as a mother of four and the wife of a pastor, I still fall into the trap! The good news is that I recognize the warning signs, and I’m able to get myself out of the hole before I get into a longterm cycle.

I have a very good friend who has been placed in my life partly because of her healthy attitude about her body and dieting. She has helped me IMMENSELY. She doesn’t have a size 2 perfect body, but she’s a very pretty girl who is very healthy. She doesn’t obsess about whether or not her “skinny jeans” fit. When she decides she needs to lose a few pounds, she just gets on a healthy eating plan and does it. Or she doesn’t do it. Either way, she doesn’t allow her weight or size to keep her from making choices about whether or not she’s going to enjoy life. She controls her weight; it doesn’t control her. (You know who you are, and I LOVE YOU!!!)

I HATE that I can’t look in a mirror and feel good about what I see looking back at me. I HATE that when I think about being intimate with my husband, I worry about what he’ll see or feel. I HATE that I feel uncomfortable even going to the mall or to the school to volunteer if I’ve gained even 2 -3 pounds. I HATE that when I think about going on vacation with my husband and two of our closest friends, I worry about what I’m going to look like in my bathing suit. I want to feel good about who I am, not what I look like. God has done a lot of work on me, but I’ve definitely not “arrived.”

I’m not sure why I felt led to write about my struggles, but now I’ve done it. Perhaps someone will read this and be encouraged, not feel alone. Satan loves for us to hide our crap, to feel ashamed. While he may still have small victories in my body image department, he won’t defeat me! And I won’t quit fighting to make sure that my girls don’t have the same issues that I have. I want to be a positive role model for them, to encourage them to feel healthy, not to strive for “skinny.” Someday, I want to ask my husband, “Do these jeans make me look fat?” and believe him when he says, “no.”