My Story
*possible trigger warning: post mentions (but not in great detail) eating disorders, mental health struggles, and chronic illness.
I’ve spent years disconnected from my body, trying to do life the “right” way - controlling my food, following every diet out there, chasing perfection, never being satisfied with myself, putting others needs first while ignoring my own, and constantly second guessing myself.
Burnout, chronic illness, and disordered patterns finally forced me to slow down and listen. No matter what I was doing “right” I still didn’t feel well. I wasn’t happy, my self-worth was so low, I was trying really hard to do all of these things that I “should” because I was too focused on what things looked like and what was expected of me. Clinging to food rules, body image, validation, striving for perfection, were all just a distraction to try to fill this void I didn’t realize at the time was there, but always felt. But they were never going to “fix” me like I hoped.
When I was forced to slow down, I started to realize healing isn’t about fixing yourself - it’s about remembering who you are beneath all the noise. That getting to know yourself is important, how you choose yourself matters, inner work can be fun and playful, and true healing really starts with us first.
That’s when I started to come home to myself. And the thing is that I’m still learning, growing, and evolving because that’s really what life is. We’ll get to become so many different versions of ourselves but each one (hopefully) will feel more authentic, connected, and true than the last!
Knowing My Body As “Bad”
I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease when I was seven - which at any age is a lot but especially as a kid whose biggest priority was just enjoying childhood. It shook up my world. I was lucky to have a mild case and an amazing team of doctors who helped me into remission. For a long time, I didn’t feel like I had IBD. I could hide it. It was also my biggest secret - I didn’t want to be different than the other kids.
I didn’t understand why this was happening to me or why my body had betrayed me. I just wanted to be “normal” but instead I missed school for the doctor, slipped away during lunch to take pills,, and dealt with sudden physical changes depending on whether I was on steroids. I knew what was happening, but I didn’t feel comfortable sharing it. And when my body did change, I was bullied for it. I felt foreign in my body - uncomfortable and mad at it.
I carried a lot of shame. It was like living a double life: on one side, I was proud and an advocate for my hospital. Butt at home, or around most people, I hid this huge part of myself. I was always told I was mature for my age, but that was only because I had to be. What I really wanted was to just be a kid and feel carefree.
Living with an invisible illness shaped how I saw myself. I didn’t feel in control of my body or my life. And being a young girl on top of that - facing weight gain, bullying, constant comparison - only added to the pressure. I internatlized everything. My self-image became more distorted. I didn’t know how to accept myself or my body because, deep down, I didn’t feel safe in it.
My Worth Was My Appearance
I learned early on to tie my self-worth to how I looked. It felt like if I could control my appearance, I could avoid judgement, get positive attention, and fit in. Looking a certain way seemed like the path to being seen, accepted, and having an easier time. So, I learned to control my appearance as best I could. I took pride in excelling academically, dressing well, staying on trend, and doing everything I could to be perceived in a certain way.
Perfectionism had taken root. I was constantly striving - academics, extracurriculars, relationships, and body. What started as a desire to change quickly spiraled into obsession: rigid food rules, intense workouts, and a deep fear of being anything less than “perfect.” Compliments on my shrinking body only reinforced that I was doing something right, even as I quietly struggled. I lost my period, dealt with panic attacks, and ignored the warning signs - because from the outside, I looked like I had it all together.
When I left for college, everything I’d been suppressing came to the surface. I was isolated, overexercising, barely eating, and deeply anxious. My body was shutting down, but I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t feel like I belonged, and the pressure to maintain this polished, high-achieving version of myself became unbearable. Eventually, I hit a breaking point. I left school, moved back home, and had to face everything I’d been running from - including the realization that I didn’t actually know who I was underneath it all.
Finding Holistic Living
At my new university, I found community, connection, and courses that allowed me to slowly learn how to be myself. Studying psychology was unexpectedly healing. I explored mindfulness, brain rewiring, and the way our thoughts and emotions shape our entire experience. I treated every assignment like a personal experiment, applying what I learned to my own healing.
That curiosity turned into a passion. I began learning about the gut-brain connection, the impact of stress, and how food, movement, and rest influenced our entire system. I was still learning and while I began to feel better mentally and emotionally, I became curious about how to support my physical body too.
Despite all the progress I’d made, I still carried a black-and-white mindset - especially around healing chronic illness. I was determined to “prove” I could completely heal without medicine, I could be “fixed”, but I pushed too hard and ignored the warning signs. I wasn’t listening to my body— I was trying to outsmart it. I thought I had accepted my chronic illness, but in reality, I was still trying to outrun it. And my body finally said, “No more” and I was hospitalized.
Recovery wasn’t quick. I ended up taking the semester off, even though my overachiever brain resisted it. But my body didn’t care about the timeline, it wanted to be taken care of and that was humbling in the deepest way.
That recovery was one of the most sacred seasons of my life. I learned to slow down, celebrating when I could walk down the street, when I could eat a vegetable without pain, when I could do gentle yoga. I let go of labels and leaned into what actually felt good and listened to how my body would respond. I was kind to myself in a way I had never been. I reconnected to joy, tended to my nervous system, leaned into routines, and began shifting not just my habits - but the way I thought, spoke to myself, and just existed in the world.
That time set the foundation for me to start actually building a life that felt authentic and grounded and it all started from the inside out.
From Control to Connection
The first recovery set the foundation for building a life that felt more guided from within. But a part of me still believed that if I did everything right - the clean eating, supplements, workouts, detoxes - I could heal myself entirely. I thought I could outsmart any diagnosis. But when I ended up in the hospital again, living alone for the first time, trying to manage work, finances, and adulting - it became clear that something deeper needed my attention. I was doing all the “right” things on paper, but my body was clearly trying to communicate to me.
The second recovery was quieter but it cracked something open in me. I let myself rest more deeply and became less rigid - honoring cravings, softening routines, listening. The biggest shift was how I related to myself: I wasn’t just following protocols, I was reconnecting with my body and letting her guide. I started notice how certain patterns - body image struggles, food noise, the need for control - were still running the show, just in more subtle ways. And I realized I couldn’t buypass them anymore. I had to meet them with compassion and curiosity, not shame.
I had lived from my head for so long, I felt called to try something different and live from the heart. Because to get something different we need to try something different. I chose to stop running and finally meet the deeper layers of my story - the disordered eating, perfectionism, and the parts of me I had kept hidden. It wasn’t just about feeling better in my body anymore - it was about coming home to myself, my relationships, and the bigger life I wanted to build. Through nervous system work, therapy, EMDR, somatic and energy healing, I began creating safety within instead of chasing it externally. I realized my body had been in fight-or-flight for most of my life, doing its best to protect me. When I finally slowed down enough to listen, everything began to shift. As I’ve created more safety inside myself, I’ve noticed I feel more open - to life, connection, and possibility.
Now, my healing is guided by connection instead of control. I’m no longer chasing and ideal - I’m choosing to love and support myself in my body, mind, and spirit I have today. My version of health isn’t about perfection: it’s about alignment, joy, and freedom. I will always be learning, growing, and healing - and instead of fearing that, I welcome it.