Jeremiah 31:3

Upon waking up this morning, I was not in the best of moods. There was no particular reason why, other than the fact that since the moment my alarm clock went off, "Ed" was trying to convince me that I was a whale rather than a human. I must confess, he was doing a pretty decent job. It was nothing new to my ears, but still not exactly what I prefer to wake up to. Ed told me I was ugly, that I was not good enough, and I didn't deserve to eat because I am not as small as some of the other girls at school. 

Ed is not nice.

By the end of the day, I had been pushed over the edge. I did not want to speak to anyone. I did not want to eat. I did not want to look in the mirror. At one point, I even launched my hairbrush across my bedroom out of pure anger. Anger towards my body, but most of all anger towards my mind. 

In an attempt to release my frustrations, I opened up my journal. The journal was a Christmas gift from my wonderful mother. The cover is made of brown leather, and it has a cross engraved into it. My favorite part about it, though, is found on the inside. On each page, in the bottom left-hand corner, is a bible verse. When I opened up the journal, I glanced down at the verse on the empty page:

"I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness."

For the first time today, a genuine smile gleamed across my face. I closed the journal. My pen never even touched the paper. It didn't have to. Since my eating disorder, my relationship with God has not exactly been at an all time high. I stopped praying, and began to question whether or not the relationship I had honored and cherished for so many years was even real. I will tell you now, what happened today did not miraculously repair the damage that has been done. Just like any other relationship, it takes time. This short-lived moment has, however, reinstilled some of my lost faith. 

I may not be the thinnest girl in school. I may not be the best at everything. In fact, I know that I am neither of those. But why should that matter? I am loved and created by God. I was formed this way for a reason, and while I may not always know why, I know that I must learn to accept myself for who I am. The religion itself does not matter-- Christian, Islamic, Buddhist, Jewish, or none at all. The same would be true: We must love ourselves for who we are, not hate ourselves for what we are not. 

I don't know about you, but I intend to do just that.