I don’t recall a specific moment in which I suddenly felt recovered; what I do remember are moments in which I began to see my body for what it was: normal, and strong, and worth loving. 

Mirrors were never accurate reflectors of my appearance—not once the eating disorder began. Mirrors held only lies, or confirmed the words my eating disorder voice so often told. 

When I started to recover,  I found that I could stand in front of a mirror and witness my reflection. Not see it, so much. But face it. Stay still, for a moment. Tolerate it. 

Later, it became a practice, an attempt at self-love: to stare at myself in the mirror, unflinchingly. To let myself be seen, fully. 

One day, it no longer felt like an act of bravery to view my reflection. The affirmations I’d been practicing–I felt the truth of them. And other feelings coincided: contentment, and the beginnings of love. 

Then, I saw a picture: of me, outside, on a hike in the woods. Smiling at my friend, who was holding the camera, seeing the me I had always been. With that picture, I saw myself again, anew, and I greeted her as a friend. 

While mirrors became a daily reminder of the journey I had taken, of the landscapes I had visited on my way to finding my recovery, pictures revealed my newly acquired ability to be present. My friends and family captured my essence in photographs that showed a light in my eyes that I had not seen for some time. I could see that I was deep in my recovery, because there was joy behind my smile. Caught in the middle of a conversation, or holding a bouquet of flowers, or blowing out candles—every image of me now revealed an energy, an aliveness. I was vibrant. 

At some point, calling myself beautiful didn’t seem like a lie. In fact, it was strange to consider that I had ever told myself otherwise. 

To be able to see again, is a gift I do not receive lightly. I will not say that I’ve never had another sad self-image day, but mostly, I look in the mirror and feel awe, or appreciation of the body that I have given to myself. Of the life that has been returned to me, by me. And as my body continues to evolve, I will encourage myself to always look, and witness, and behold every version of me with real love.