I am anorexic, but I do not look stereotypically anorexic. I no longer fit the hashtag "thinspiration." I no longer appear #anorexic. And somehow, #recovering and #weightrestored don't seem as poignant.
I no longer "look anorexic," whatever that means in today's society of overly thin models. After over a year of maintaining my "I'm in recovery" mindset, I am weight restored, angrier, and sometimes in more pain than I was before. I am angry because I do not outwardly appear to be struggling. I am not thin, and I am not fat. I am average. I am not weak, cold, or dizzy anymore. My body — or lack of such — no longer screams to the outside world that I am in pain.
There is no outward reason for anyone to believe that I have an eating disorder. And this makes my particular illness very angry. It is invalidating for my demon to not show its ugly illusion of power over me. People see me, not the eating disorder. And that makes anorexia feel very angry and very hurt.
When anorexia feels hurt, it plots revenge. However, whispers and temptations are not enough; the outside world must know. I know I must burn anorexia to live for myself. I know that both of us cannot be happy at the same time. I know that anorexia's joy brings me nothing but pain. I know that I do not look anorexic, and I know the internal revenge this realization will cause. I know these things, but I do not want to accept them.
But accepting these things is a large part of recovery for anyone struggling with an eating disorder. Weight restoration does not force me to accept these ideas as true. If it did, recovery would be so much easier. Gain the weight, accept the ideas, then move on with life, recovered. If only recovery was so simply linear.
Yes, I know that anorexia comes in all shapes and sizes. I know that some are weight restored and some are not, but that society portrays anorexia as a pale girl with long hair in front of a pristine, empty plate. I know that you can be overweight and still be on a starvation diet. I know all the facts that I should, and some I never wished to know. These facts present the harsh reality that I no longer appear anorexic. I am not stick thin. My jeans fit. My hair is not falling out, and I do not pass out when I stand up too fast, something that was once a common and validating occurrence.
This does not mean that I do not struggle. This does not mean that I can get away with eating anything because I won't get fat. This does not mean that I am not anorexic. What it does mean - for me - is that I am in recovery.
And I choose to remain so, no matter what I look like. Weight restored does not mean recovered, because recovery is more than skin deep.
