When I was in high school, I hated the way that I looked. I struggled with my sexuality and I looked at the people around me and in media and just hated what I saw when I looked in the mirror.So I stopped eating.Not all together. I was smart and knew what that would do to my body and my mind. Plus I was the only one that ate cereal in my house and my parents and I had dinner together every night. So I skipped lunch, that didn’t seem that hard. Then I poured my cereal into the garbage instead of into a bowl. And some nights I would pretend that I ate out with friends.I didn’t realize how bad it was until I came to university and saw how people looked at me. Until I saw what I had done to myself without even trying to.

Suddenly I hated myself even more because I felt like I was weak for using this tool that should never been used.It’s two years later now. I just came home from a weekend away with my friends and because food wasn’t guaranteed, I cooked my own meals before I left. I ate three times a day and when I came home and told my roommate, she beamed and gave me a hug.I still have a hard time every so often, most people do I think. But I looked in the mirror the other day when I was wearing a tight shirt and I thought that I looked so beautiful, it brought a tear to my eye.I think if my younger self saw me now, she’d be incredibly proud. Maybe not of the number on the scale (although I haven’t checked that in months) but of the self love that I now radiate.It has taken me years to get to a good place with food and to get a to a good place with myself. But I’m here now. And to whoever needs to hear this: it does get better. That is not a lie that people tell you, it’s actually real. I would know, and someday you will too.