The Misconception About Life After Recovery

The other day I caught my reflection before putting my makeup on. I didn't mean to stare, but I couldn't look away. I was paralyzed, confused. There was a breakout on my cheek, glaring at me. This couldn't be. I'm healthy and happy and drink tons of water and eat all of the right foods. That breakout was a mistake, a fluke, a miscalculation inside. I should have perfectly clear skin. I wasn't sick anymore. What was going on?

I, and many others, talk about recovery with the highest regard. It's life-changing, it's incredible, it's simply magic. While these ring true, constantly associating recovery with such positive elements makes it beyond easy to assume that once you're recovered, you will be perfect. And then there comes the day where you're healthy and happy and have a breakout on your cheek, and you go into shock. Because THAT doesn't line up with what recovery was cracked up to be!

Personally, when I was in the recovery stage and was watching my body and mind change for the better, I was excited. I was thrilled, because I assumed that these changes would continue to change until they reached perfection. I stood by as my skin went from paper-thin pale ash to being flushed with color and glow. I watched my hair transform from the brittle thin straw it was to the luscious, so-thick-it-breaks-hairties mane it grew into. I, somewhat anxiously but mostly excitedly, observed my body fill out from the skeletal remains of my past to the full, healthful structure recovery brought.

But from the impression I was under, I was expecting more. MORE. That after recovery, when I was weight-restored and maintaining a healthful lifestyle, that I would have perfectly clear skin and beautiful shiny hair and a toned muscular lean body. Recovery, the greatest thing in the world, would solve all of my problems, right?

Well.

Total bullshit, man.

What I'm trying to get across is that life after recovery is still life, you're still you, and you're still in your own body. While all three of these things are improved with recovery, they are still subject to the imperfections that the rest of the world knows too well. I spent a lot of time believing that life after recovery, that being healthy, would make all of my flaws disappear. I wish I would have cleared up this misconception sooner, but here and now is the best I can do.

So yes, I'm a healthy and happy young woman but that doesn't exempt me from anything. I eat wholesome, nutrient dense, fresh foods. I'm active and I'm well-hydrated. I take my supplements and get enough sleep and make sure to nurture my stress before it grows monstrous. But I STILL breakout. Constantly, actually. My hair is healthy and strong but not always cooperative. Sometimes it just looks like a bird's nest with no hope at all. As far as my physical body goes, I've made strides in distancing myself and my worth from my outward appearance, but even though I do all of the things listed above, I STILL bloat, I STILL have days that I'm uncomfortable, and there's ALWAYS room for improvement.

Recovery isn't synonymous with perfection. Recovery doesn't make you less human, it makes you MORE human. Because now you're at a mentally stable and rational state where you can see these flaws, accept them, and move on. You can't spend your entire recovery charging through just to reach the end point that you believe is perfection. There is no end point in recovery, and there is no perfection in general.

I assumed that all of my flaws were byproducts of my ED, and that recovery would eradicated the source, and therefore all of the subsequent problems. In retrospect, that's ignorant. I hope this post reaches anyone who's in a similar position and helps to reevaluate their perceptions of recovery and themselves. Being happy and healthy is only attainable when you can accept yourself in your entirety...flaws and all.