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.