Bye Ann. 

Dear Anorexia, 

For years, you were my closest friend. Or at least, that’s what you made me believe. I met you when I was just 12, not knowing how you’d change my life. At first, you seemed so caring, giving me “advice” about food. But your whispers of “Don’t eat that” soon became shouts of “You can’t have anything!” School became a blur. I couldn’t focus, couldn’t think. My grades dropped, and so did my weight. You told me to toss my lunch, to eat less and less each day. You took over my mind, making me lie to everyone I cared about. 

You stole my joy. When friends were having fun, you dragged me away to exercise. Birthdays, holidays, family dinners – you ruined them all. I felt so alone, even in a room full of people who loved me. They couldn’t understand, and I couldn’t explain how you were tearing me apart inside. My body started breaking down. Clothes didn’t fit, hair fell out, cuts wouldn’t heal. You numbed me to everything – pain, hunger, emotions. I lost friends who couldn’t bear to watch what you were doing to me. 

But here’s the thing about false friends like you: Eventually, the mask slips. After 19 years, I’m finally seeing you for what you are – not a friend, but a destroyer. You never wanted to help me. You wanted to consume me. I used to think I needed you to survive. What a lie that was. Now I know the truth: without you, I’ll thrive. You have no power without my belief in you. You can’t control me anymore. 

As I say goodbye to you, I’m saying hello to real friendship. To people who actually care about me, not about controlling me. To kindness – both from others and from myself. Letting you go is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Some days, I still hear your voice. But now I have other voices to listen to – friends who remind me of my worth, family who love me as I am, and my own voice, getting stronger every day. 

I’m learning what real nourishment looks like. It’s not just about food – it’s about feeding my soul with genuine connections. It’s about treating myself and others with compassion. It’s about growing into the person I was always meant to be, before you tried to shrink me down to nothing. Every meal is a step away from you and towards a fuller life. Every time I share a laugh with friends over dinner, every time I enjoy a holiday meal with family, I’m building a life you can’t touch. 

You took so much from me, Anorexia. My health, my happiness, years of my life. But you didn’t take my strength. That was always mine, even when I couldn’t see it. And now I’m using that strength to build real friendships, to be kind to myself, to heal. So this is goodbye. You’re not my friend. You never were. But because of you, I now know what true friendship looks like. I know the value of kindness. I know how to nourish myself – body and soul. 

You’re just a word now, Anorexia. I’m a whole person, growing stronger every day. And I’m not alone anymore.