On August 13, 2016, my life changed forever. Actually, my life began. I was reborn. Only nine months prior, I had just gotten out of my fifth treatment center. And now, finally, I was truly happy.
Choosing recovery doesn’t necessarily mean you will be cured, or never struggle again, but what it does mean is that you are making the conscious decision to fight. To not be a victim. To walk in the light of life, instead of in the shadows of darkness of death.
You’re the one with enough life in you to take something unseen and give it a face.
My dad didn’t teach me that love is patient, and love is kind. He didn’t teach me that love is beautiful, or that the power of love is more powerful than anything else on this earth. The picture of love I had painted in my head was that love was made to be painful, it was full of loss, and it was destructive.
Perfectionism will kill you. It’s unachievable. Perfectionism is something absolutely debilitating, and getting better from it is a process.
I’m not sure what I was doing on the app to be quite honest. Maybe I was curious, or maybe I was lonely, or maybe it was just meant to be. I wasn’t expecting MARRIAGE out of Tinder, but I did want something real.
You will never be fat. Yes, you have fat. We all do. But you also have fingers, hair, hormones, and a beating heart.
People may start to distance themselves from you. It’s scary.
You are loved. Not only when you’re drunk and stumbling with a fake smile plastered on your face, but through your pain and tears and bad days too.
She’s been hurt before. I want her to be able to trust you, and I need you to trust her. She deserves that. Be real.