(More Photos Below)

I met Loren through her beautiful mother Chris. I met Chris when she came to receive a massage from me because I had been massaging her beautiful mother, Nora. Loren was still in high school when she started receiving body work from me. I had very little experience working on teenagers and I was so grateful for the trust she placed in my hands with her precious body. I had no idea that Loren had this story to share until recently and am very honored she wished to share it here with all of us. I took these photos of her and her mother while I was being photographed for an article in the local newspaper and I loved how they turned out.

Loren's Story:

I have anorexia. I've been in recovery for a year and a month as of February 2014, and prior to that I practiced disordered thinking since age seven and disordered behaviors since age twelve. I spent the past fourteen years berating myself on how "wrong" I believed I was- feeling ugly compared to my slimmer cousin in our matching holiday outfits, feeling insecure and hatred for the dark brown hair covering my arms looking wild and not "girly."

These self hateful thoughts and so many others became a broken record in my head, acting as a constant reminder of how I'm not perfect. Exercise and food restriction were dangerous tools. I began to eat less and less and exercised more and more, feeling so proud of the days I could power out two Zumba classes and two 3 mile runs. At my lowest point I was working out up to 5 hours a day and my daily intake was a strict 750 kcal or less if I could manage it. If I'd binge (which was common, seeing as I was starving myself) I'd tack those calories onto the next days workout. I'd keep track of every calorie in, and every minute on the treadmill. I told myself every day that when I met my goal, I would be skinny and happy and everything would be fine.

In those 14 years, however, I never did attain that goal of "perfection" and eventually, it started to piss me off. I began to question the ED voice in my head. I began to loathe it. It became harder to trust my pool of hatred and lies so I dove in, determined to make some ripples. Last January, with the unconditional love and support of my incredible partner and family, I made the decision to quit exercise completely.

The "cold turkey" approach was the first big step I took in taking back my power from my eating disorder. The first 24 hours were hell. I didn't eat the next day out of guilt. All the mirrors in the house were taped up, I destroyed my phone because I didn't want to see all the bodies that were better than mine. I quit everything; school, work, music, friends. I had to retreat. I had to become my only priority if I wanted to see this journey through. I had to feel it all, and experience every day I survived not adhering to my destructive ritual.

Reflecting on that period of time, I have so much gratitude for my partner, our roommate and our dog. All of whom (knowingly and unknowingly) kept me safe, loved me, and fed me. Months literally melded together and flew by until I chose to step on the scale for the first time since I quit exercise. I had lost weight. I was so shocked and fueled by that discovery that I chose to up my calorie intake all by myself. I was breaking all my own rules, diminishing the power my fears held over my life. Once I started outpatient therapy I began to make connections between my ED and my mental health obstacles; and today I have more tools in overcoming both of those than ever before.

I'm starting to love myself, bit by bit. A healthy return to MOVEMENT (lets not call it exercise) is my current, thrilling mountain to climb- each time I make it to dance or hike or practice yoga, I see the beauty in my own self and remembering how giving that love to my physical body is a good thing. I am IN recovery. Each moment is a choice and some days are still intensely painful. I accept where I am in my journey.

And I focus on what is important.

What is important is that I have not restricted in 49 days. What is important is that I don't wake up every morning in a panic over what I ate the day before. What is important is that I can help myself out of an anxiety attack. It is important that my inner monologue is love, with many reminders and reframed affirmations. It's important that I'm here. That I could write this. But what is most important is that my story is not unique. It's my mothers story. It's my fathers story. It's your story, sweet reader, if you have ever had a thought pop into your head that is detrimental to the LOVE that you are. Wellness and self-love are not the primary objectives in the greater society-but we can make them so.

Start right now. Then start again in 30 seconds, and then in five more minutes if you have to. Practice self love. Know that it will be difficult. Do it anyway. Know that I am here, practicing along side you. I love you. -Loren