Guest Author: Marci Warhaft-Nadler
I knew when I became pregnant with my son, that I would love him and do whatever it took to make sure that he would be safe and happy. What I didn’t expect, was how becoming his mother would also make me take care of myself for the first time in my life.
Growing up, I was a very confident, outgoing little girl. It wasn’t until I turned 17 that my life took a drastic turn. My brother Billy, who was just the coolest and most handsome big brother in the entire world, had become ill. His illness took him from me when he was just 21 years old. I was shattered. Feeling like I had lost complete control over what was going on around me, I turned my control inwards. I started starving myself.
It was easier to cope with the pain from an empty stomach than the pain of accepting my brother was gone. He had always found a way to make me feel special. With him, I felt pretty, funny and smart. Without him, I felt none of those things. Thinking I would never be good enough I tried instead to be THIN enough. As any anorexic can tell you, thin enough just doesn’t exist.
There were moments when I felt stronger and promised I’d take care of myself, but the strength never lasted.
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