[.ana and mia fan club.]

This entry was supposed to be about something else entirely – I was actually going to carry on talking about my present and former fears when it comes to food and working out, but since I have been feeling much better for the past 48 hours, all thanks to a new best friend I acquired not long ago – Hunger, who makes me want to live and strive and survive, I decided to address a more touchy issue.

Some of you may know that I started a new Instagram account to keep track of my recovery as well as to get and give back the support to the ED community. I have encountered an insane amount of struggling people, mostly girls, of course, that are beautiful human beings who just went wrong once over their own insecurities (remind you of anyone?) and these girls are fighting for their lives to go back to normal every day.

I got lucky with señor Hunger, he appeared very fast into my recovery. Actually, he kind of kicked out the Calorie and just took up her space in my nervous system, making me more ravenous than guilty – and I assume that’s a good sign for someone who lived on bell peppers and matzoh bread because she simply didn’t feel hungry. Some women, though, have to fight to keep down every bite of their lunch – and that’s not easy when all you feel is guilt, shame, and complete lack of said Hunger. The reason why many people with ED’s have to resort to shakes and nutrition bars is because they can’t eat normal-sized portions, so they are forced to make up the calories. I mean, I still take extra protein, of course, and I am starting to enjoy it, too; but I was incredibly relieved when yesterday I was able to eat a whole meal plus dessert without a care in the world.

And this brings me to the actual topic of my post: the Instagram account I started, as I have said before, gained a lot of good, positive, struggling (sometimes) but uniformly good attention. At least that’s what I thought until I went through the list of my followers and found a couple of accounts that disturbed me to no end. These were the so called Pro-Ana Instablogs.


For those of you not familiar with Pro-Ana, or generally Pro-ED, it’s exactly what you’d think it is: a movement mostly popularized through the Internet, vastly formed by teenagers and girls in their twenties that want to develop eating disorders. Not only that, it’s a movement that encourages extreme dieting, working out and skinniness; in other words, it’s not about going on a diet to look and feel good about yourself (which is what I did, well, overdid, but that was my motivation), it’s about developing an eating disorder for the sake of having one. These people, from what I have gathered, are trying not to get better mentally – because having such thoughts and desires is clearly not normal, – they are trying to either slip into the world of ED for the comfort or fashion of it. They don’t want to be skinny, although that is the ultimate goal; they want to be sick to be thin.

While I am aware that I starved myself for months and took my workouts too far in order to feel better about myself, I cannot, for the life of me, understand why one would want to go through this just for the sake of the experience. As someone in recovery – in her happy stage of recovery, I am glad to say I am confident and secure enough to have a fucking cookie. And I don’t get why someone would deny themselves that cookie just to look cool.

This is my point of view. While I understand that the Pro-Ana movement has more depth to it than I’ve given thought to, that some of these people really do require professional mental help in order to get rid of their obsession with ED development, I want to state here and now that my blog, just like myself, nor any page, meme, event, whatever associated with me, will accept Pro-Ana as something normal and something that has to be encourages. Therefore, if you are pro-ED and anti-recovery, please do yourself a favor and eat a PB sandwich. And do not follow me online. I am in a good place right now, most people in recovery are trying to get to this good place, and we don’t need this kind of poison on the way to our goals.

Thank you.



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