In college, no one knows who you were in high school; there is no way to tell if you were popular, nerdy, if you have changed your style, or if you have changed your attitude. No one knows who you used to be, how you used to look, or how you used to act.

For me, no one knows that I used to be skinny.

I can remember a time when I had a scale hidden in my closet, constantly stepping on it, watching the numbers go lower and lower each day. Although in my mind, it still was not low enough, and it would never have been. I was sick. I was starving, weak, and miserable, but most of all, I was just not satisfied.

There was a time when my vision would go black each time I walked down my high school's hallways, clinging onto the nearest surface to steady myself, begging my body not to pass out. There was a time when I would set an alarm clock to go off in the middle of the night so that I could make sure I was sleeping on my stomach, so it would look flatter in the morning. There were times when I hid in the school bathroom during lunch to avoid the questions of “Why aren’t you eating?”, I had run out of excuses. I can remember a time when all I ever wanted to do was isolate myself in my bedroom, partially because I had no energy, partially because the thought of going outside and having people look at me, look at my body, made me so anxious, I could not bare it. There was a time when I made myself run until I could not possibly run another step, then I would stop, and run some more. There was a time when the nutritionist looked me in the eyes and told me that I was sick, that I needed to know that I was sick.

“I can stop anytime I want to,” I would reply, “I am just not skinny enough to stop yet.”

I couldn’t stop.

There was a time when I almost lost my life, and there is a time that I realized that the way I was treating my body was not okay.

There was a time when I came home from the hospital and ate a big plate of my mother’s homemade baked ziti, my first meal, to this day, the greatest thing I have ever tasted.

Freedom.

Now that I’m in college, no one knows about that chapter in my life. No one saw me in the school hallway as my waistline withered down. No one wondered where I was when I wasn’t at school. No one knows how long that I struggled with my eating disorder. No one knows that I used to be skinny until they see old pictures of me, and they say “You used to be so skinny.”

The first time I heard that statement, I felt the tears well up in my eyes. Partially out of shock, partially out of hurt. The only response I could muster up was “I know...”

Now, in my second year away from home, I have heard varying versions of this statement quite a few times as people scroll through my Facebook, my Instagram, etc. Sometimes, I even address it myself. It is plain to see, there is certainly a change in my body; I am perfectly okay with it, if anything, I am happy about it.

I almost lost my life attempting to be skinny, to fulfill the look that I believed was the only way I could ever be beautiful or ever feel complete. During that period of my life, I would have rather died than gain even a fraction of a pound, and that is said without exaggeration. As I became successful within my recovery process, I realized that I am beautiful despite any negative thought that I ever previously had about myself, or negative thoughts that others have had about me. I am beautiful no matter what number stares back at me on the scale.

What I neglected to realize when I was sick, is that everyone is beautiful. Everyone is built a different way; varying in size, shape, color, differing strengths, weaknesses. Everyone is different. Being uniquely human is beautiful in itself...but being strong enough to realize your beauty, is the most beautiful thing of all. There is strength in looking in the mirror and knowing that you are good enough, you are human, and you are beautiful.

There was a time when someone telling me, “You used to be so skinny,” would have sent me spiraling down into an intense relapse; using any excuse possible not to eat. But now, I feel proud. I feel proud to have overcome something that once had complete control over me. I feel blessed to look in the mirror each day and know that I am good enough, I am human, and I am beautiful.

So yes, I used to be “so skinny, but now, I am so strong.