The “During”
April, 2026
What I, and what most people talk about when they talk about eating disorder recovery (or other mental-health-related recovery), is the “after.” People focus on the good that comes post-recovery— how life-changing it is to live a recovered life, all of the amazing new experiences that come with this new life, and how different things are when not tied down by one’s illness. There is something beautiful about this— it shows that recovery is possible, that there is light at the end of the tunnel, and that things are so much better when one makes the choice to heal. But what most people don’t talk about is the “during.” What happens when you’re in the thick of recovery. How hard that recovery journey actually is. This is something that demands more attention—both by myself, and by the world— because most recovery journeys are far from easy. Most are not overnight transformations, or simple processes. Most require a whole lot of work, a whole lot of sacrifice, and a whole lot of vulnerability. Recovery isn’t just a “before” and “after.” It’s a “during,” too.
The “during” years of my recovery are ones that nowadays, being recovered, I often glaze over when I talk about my story. I certainly point out that those years were incredibly difficult, and that there were a lot of long-lasting effects from my journey that to this day have had a negative impact. Yes, recovery was absolutely, without a doubt, 100% worth it. But there was a cost—and people on the outside looking in don’t always fully understand how hard it was. It’s something that’s important to call attention to, because the people that I met while being treated for my eating disorder, who were going through their own recoveries, are truly the strongest and most resilient people that I know.
Eating disorder recovery brings out much of the difficult emotions that the disorder itself was masking. It involves working with traumas and anxiety-inducing situations, and bringing them out into the open. It involves setting boundaries in relationships, and talking about things that might not have ever been brought to light. It involves sharing thoughts and feelings that might have been kept hidden, sometimes proving difficult not only for the person in recovery, but for friends and family as well.
While all of these tough processes are happening, it is also true that usually, the person recovering doesn’t feel like their true selves yet. At least for me, with all of the intense emotions that came up during my own recovery, and all of the deep, arduous work I had to do, it made it easy to lose myself. When someone is spending so much time trying to grapple with such difficult feelings and core beliefs, while fighting the behaviors that the eating disorder had been commanding them to do for so long, while also opening their heart to strangers, it is understandable that they might be more reactive, more sensitive, etc. etc. Eating disorder recovery is really, really, freaking hard. And I think it’s important for people to recognize that, and give their loved ones/themselves grace as they navigate potentially the most difficult thing they’ve had to ever do.
Again, this is not to say that recovery isn’t worth it—it is. What this IS to say, is that if you know someone who is going through recovery, is recovered, or if you yourself is recovering/recovered, I hope you know that you are seen and understood, and you are worthy of grace. Recovery is one of the most difficult things to go through— it takes guts, courage, bravery, strength, and resilience. It takes it all, but it GIVES all, too. The cost of recovery versus actually living? I’ll take living, any day.