the meaning of friendships

When one door closes another one opens? Is that how the saying goes? Well...I feel it to be true in my life right now...literally and figuratively. The doors closed to Mom's house two weeks ago and they reopened to a new family last weekend. As I reflect back over the 19 years in that home I can't help but feel sad about the loss but I hope for many more memories created there by a new family.

Some days it is harder to count my blessings...some days it is relatively easy. More days than not though I struggle to see what's good. However, the past week I have been able to reflect on how faithful God has been. He hasn't left my side for a single second, which is evident! My life eight months ago was not even close to how my life is now. I feel like a completely different person...someone living with a second chance at life. The one area I have been been extremely blessed in is friendships. I've never felt I have had genuine, authentic friendships, mainly because I always hid behind my ED and never allowed for intimacy in relationships. I have had one or two best friends along the way but never a full circle of people I can call 'close friends.' My fault? Probably. But the grace of God overcomes anything I have ever done (or not done). The Emily Program has given me some lifelong friendships. The other day I realized that for 13+ years I was surrounded 100% by people who didn't truly know me, know my hidden struggles, and understand the depth of pain and agony of an ED. I look back and see an imposter. Today, I am surrounded 100% by people who do truly know me (inside and out), know my hidden struggles, and authentically understand the hardship of recovery. The friends in my life are on the path with me. Some walk in front of me and some walk just a few steps behind me but we are all in this together. I have never had such intimate friendships. These will last a lifetime.

Back in February, when I had my intake, my therapist told me that people with an eating disorder and those in recovery are part of a tribe. I looked at her, laughed, and said "I don't want to be a part of that tribe." Well, for the one thousandth time, my therapist is correct. It is a tribe. A band of people who all fully understand each other. We can look at one another and just know. A text as simple as, "I'm struggling," voices a hundred words. We get it. We understand. And we value the struggle because we want the outcome for each other.

God has been extremely faithful in blessing me with more friends right now than I have ever had before. True friends. Faithful friends. Encouraging friends. It is an odd feeling to know I can pick up my phone and call one of 25 people. They get it. They are part of my tribe.

Recovery IS possible!