the broken beautiful

to Abigail M. –

thank you for pushing me on my hardest days. you inspire me to do the next right thing. thank you for being the best roommate and supporter. you push me and inspire me daily. you’re a freaking rockstar. you’re so beyond loved by me and so many others. don’t you ever forget it.

to Sierra L. –

thank you for welcoming me with open arms, teaching me the ways of Magnolia house, and loving me so big. you are the little sister that I never knew I needed. thank you for pushing me and challenging me to love myself in new ways. you’re the strongest person I know. I love you BIG.

to Cannon Hunt –

not really sure where to start. thank you for jumping in at the very beginning and being willing and ready to love and support me. thank you for pushing me to Jesus always and showing me His love daily. thank you for being intentional in your words and actions. thank you for standing by me through every day of treatment and then some. thank you for the accountability and friendship you gave me. you are a light to all who know you. i am so beyond thankful that I shared what I did with you. it is a privilege to know you. I admire you. I respect you. you rock.

to Carrington D. –

you taught me patience and for that I’m extremely thankful. thank you for being unapologetically yourself at ALL times. I love you more than you could ever know.

to Katie Allison-

thank you a million times over for everything you have done. you have taken me in time and time again. when I need a momma hug, a laugh, a sleep over, a distraction, a prayer, YOU are who I go to. thank you for kid space sleep overs, lots of tea (literal and figurative heheh), and teaching me what it looks like to lead a life of a strong and faithful christian woman. I look up to you. you are incredible and so so special to me. thank you.

to Ryan Perry –

OH ryan! YOU are one of a kind. I have never met someone as intentional or genuine as you. thank you for loving me well. thank you for you intentional words and your genuine prayers. you are a role model for me in what it looks like to love others and the Lord in big ways. the Spirit is MOVING in you. thank you for being a friend and supporter in this past season of life. I love you!

to Ella Harrison-

Ella girl!! oh how I love you. I don’t know how to thank you enough for what you have done. your willingness to help and motivate me has impacted my recovery in the BIGGEST ways. you inspire me to do better, be happier, and believe in myself. you are one of a kind. so so thankful that our paths crossed. love you bunches hunny<3 thank you for everything

to Caroline Barker-

~~Caro you’re my best friend! together we change the world!~~ thank you for taking me in, loving me well, challenging me, supporting me, and being my best friend. thank you for validating me and pushing me in my recovery. you are special. you are kind. you are WILD. I love you.

to Maggie Kerley –

MAGGIE! thank you for loving Jesus in such a way that makes me and so many others want to know Him because of you. I look up to you as a friend and as someone who wants to love Jesus the way that you do. thank you for your kind words, support, and friendship. I adore you.

to Emma Dexter-

thank you for being authentic. I want to be more like you in the ways that I view the world and myself. thank you for writing me while I as gone hehehe. you’re package of letters, photos, and post cards was a highlight for me. you are a highlight of my life. thank you for being emma. I love you.

to Claire Thompson –

you! are! incredible! thank you for being my first treatment friend. your impact on me, my walk with Jesus, and my relationship with myself is a BIG one. thank you for taking me to dinner and pushing me to finish. you are strong! you are loved! you are important! I love you!

to Mary Ivon Cofer-

Mary Ivon I adore you!!! you are one of my biggest inspirations to recover. I see you and the full life of joy you live and it reminds me why I want to recover. thank you for coffee and ice cream and walks and talks and everything else. I treasure you and our friendship.

to Kim Hunt-

thank you for your friendship. thank you for welcoming into your home time and time again with open arms. I look up to you as a sister in Christ, as a friend, and as a mom. your strength pushes me. You are oh so special to me.

to Kara Price –

Oh my friend, you are so special to me. I look up to you as a woman, a mother, a friend, as a christian woman, and as a recovered woman!! You push me. You support me. You love me. Thank you for all you have done for me and momma. Thank you for your consistency in prayer. thank you for all that you are.

to Alex K.-

one of my oldest and most special friends. thank you for taking in little 7th grade me. you have loved me in ways that I haven’t been loved or supported in before. you push me and inspire me to fight on. I love you dearly. thank you for being Alex, loving me at my lowest, and many years of friendship.

to Rachel Blackmon-

sweet and caring Rachel. you have accepted me for my quirks and flaws since the day I met you. thank you for being a consistent light to me for the past 5 years. thank you for your music, sharing your talent, and sharing Jesus with me so consistently. you are a light and a pleasure to know. I love you !

to Anna Beth –

I have never known someone who loves the way that you do. thank you for your friendship and your forgiveness. thank you for being someone that I can look up to and strive to be like. you are a light. you are strong. you are LOVED! thank you for teaching me forgiveness. I love you so so very much.

On January 2, 2019 I admitted to the Renfrew Center of Nashville. I was in the PHP (partial hospitalization program). 5 days a week I went from 8:00 – 4:30. I participated in multiple group therapy activities and sessions through out the day. I met the most incredible women who loved and supported me in ways I had never been loved or supported in before. They struggled and fought with me. It was here that I learned the importance of community.

I would eat breakfast, lunch, and a snack there everyday. We prepped our own food before the meals. Not only did I not enjoy eating food, preparing was equally as upsetting. I went in to the program having countless fear foods. (fear foods: foods that my eating disorder labeled as “bad” or “fattening” for me) Having to interact with these fear foods on a daily basis was exhausting and overwhelming.

I was on my own for dinner. I needed the accountability and support at meal times. Often times, I would skip dinner. While in Nashville, my behaviors increased. My ED voice was louder than ever. It knew it was being fought.

I started exercising more and taking laxatives. Anything just to get the satisfaction of losing weight, but it was never enough. I was never enough.

After a few weeks at Renfrew, it was recommended that I go to residential treatment in Coconut Creek, FL. I hadn’t gained much ground. I was continually losing weight and engaging in unhealthy behaviors. This news tore me apart. I had failed. I hadn’t tried hard enough. Again, I found myself being not enough.

I admitted to Renfrew @ Coconut Creek. It was not the place for me. There was very little accountability and meal support, the two things I needed the most. I stayed for a little over 24 hours and then was discharged to my parents with the understanding that I find another residential facility.

After discharging I went to Tallahassee to tour Canopy Cove Eating Disorder treatment center. I loved it. I knew I could heal there. I fully expected to admit there that day. My bags were packed, I had said my goodbyes to my friends for a while, and I had come to terms with the fact I had to leave home. However, because of insurance approval I could not admit that day. I went home to Chattanooga and waited for 3 weeks before receiving any further treatment.

I was exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. Physically, I was frail and weak. Mentally, I was fighting a constant battle. Emotionally, I was drained.

Looking back on it, I now wonder at what point did I entangle food with emotion. The two are totally separate from each other. I know this now. When I was sad or stressed, angry or overwhelmed, my instinct was to restrict my food intake. When I was disappointed in myself, I would take it out on myself – exercising to the point of over exhaustion, self harm, and purging. A few months of these behaviors turned into years, totally adjusting my mindset and the way in which my brain is wired. For the past 5 years, my life has repeated this toxic cycle. I struggled and fought in silence and secrecy.

It wasn’t until this past December that I reached out for help. In what I thought was the darkest and scariest place of my life, I saw no light and no way out. I lived in complete and utter darkness for years, refusing to accept the fact that Jesus was holding my hand the whole way.

I was lying in bed. I could see my heart pounding through the bones in my chest. I was shaking uncontrollably, freezing, and terrified. I called my mom into my room and instantaneously burst into tears. In that moment I began to open the doors to years of pain and suffering. I laid there for hours and confessed and admitted to my detrimental behaviors.

“We will get through this” my mom uttered time and time again. We sat there afraid and unclear of what the next step would be. I knew I needed to nourish my body but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t deal with the guilt that came with eating any longer. Eating hurt. It was physically painful and emotionally draining. I couldn’t do it.

The following morning, after multiple doctors appointments, I was sent to Children’s at Erlanger. It was there that I had a NG tube placed. The tube ran through my nose, down the back of my throat, and drained into my stomach. For the following weeks, I was on tube feeds. My nourishment came from BOOST, a meal supplement drink. Multiple times a day I hooked up to a syringe and had BOOST pumped into the tube. It was painful. I will never forget the feeling the supplement drain into my empty stomach.

The tube was embarrassing to say the absolute least. It was a physical sign that I had a problem. I got stared at by most everybody. I tried my very hardest not to leave the house. Trying to explain what was wrong with me was a heart wrenching experience. I often times heard “You don’t look anorexic” or “Just eat” as a response.

I hid behind what I thought was a perfect persona of someone who had it all together. That identity was stripped from me the second that tube was placed.