The Purple Fig

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How I Live With Anorexia

The moment I put on my dream wedding dress, I cried tears of disappointment and frustration. It was exactly as I had pictured, with a corseted top that tied like a ballet slipper in the back, shiny white beads on the front, and a flowing, silky train. The dress wasn't the problem. It was how I looked in it. "You look beautiful," my mother said, thinking I was crying tears of joy. In that moment, I knew I still wasn't "better." I thought I had recovered, and I thought this meant I'd love the way I look. I hate that my eating disorder tainted this precious moment that I cannot have back. I use this hate to empower myself. Today, five years later, I think I'm "normal."
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Why I Wish I Was Needier

Yes, that's right: I wish sometimes that I was needier. In recent months, I've come to a very blunt awareness about just how independent I had become in my four years as a single person. Moreover, I can reflect today and acknowledge just how much society places value on that independence. Is our system flawed.
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Letter to My Future Self (I Hope You're Still Fun!)

Dear Old-Hot Stuff, I am writing you this letter to remind you of a few things that you may forget along the way. I know that experience and age-weight may provide you with the assumption that you know it all and you don't need advice from your 35-year-old self. But memory-loss aside, you may have gotten a little too fixed in your ways to remember a life, well let's just say, a little less-lived.