Love the whole me

Yesterday was one of those days that really tests the delineation between sickness and recovery. My boyfriend's parents came to visit for the afternoon, so we all spent the afternoon shopping at a local mall. I had met his parents only once before, so I did not feel comfortable eating around them. I was afraid of potentially marring the entire afternoon at dinner by acting strange, and I desperately wanted to avoid that. Eating in public, or eating in the company of someone I do not know, creates an extremely tense environment for me. I become paranoid that I am being watched and judged-- that my eating disorder is spelled out right on my face. This is something that is difficult for me to resolve, because the simple act of chewing and swallowing can become insurmountable under the right circumstances.

The afternoon at the mall, which began promisingly, did not end well. My boyfriend was of course quite aware of my reluctance to eat with his parents, so I trusted that he would wrap up the day as cleanly as possible. As we were standing outside Best Buy, his parents provided what I thought was a perfect opportunity to say our goodbyes and exit. Yet, my boyfriend suggested that we eat together. I could not believe it. Getting inside the car to drive to the restaurant, I asked, incredulously, "What are you doing?"

As it turns out, we did not go out to eat. As soon as I inquired into his reasoning, he decided to get back out of the car and inform his parents-- in God knows what language-- that we were not, in fact, going to eat. I was completely perplexed at this point. I could not understand what was going through my boyfriend's mind, and now I felt that he had ruined the image I had carefully crafted for his parents all afternoon. I was hurt; he, for some reason, was angry. He said that he had just wanted to spend more time with his parents, and why couldn't I have just gone out to eat with them? Honestly, I thought, do you really not know!?

I don't think yesterday was really ever resolved. Somehow my boyfriend had separated me from my disorder and had wanted me, minus my disorder, to spend time with his parents. He felt that I was just being difficult; that I was petulantly choosing to neglect girlfriend duties. Neither are the case. I am many great things, and some of them, in fact, are due to having experienced anorexia. I don't expect anyone to love anorexia per se, but anyone who loves me has to love the parts of me that are touched by the disease. One of the greatest difficulties in recovery is getting people to understand that nothing about anorexia is black and white. I am not completely overtaken by the disorder; nor am I entirely anorexia-free. I need people to love and accept the whole me, as I am.