My story with eating disorders spans far longer than I could have ever imagined. Looking back, so do my struggles with mental health—because in my experience, the two often go hand in hand. After 17 years, I’m finally on the other side, and I still can’t believe I’m here. God has laid it on my heart to help others walk in freedom from eating disorders, so while sharing my testimony is a painful reminder of all I went through, I pray it brings others hope, healing, and closer to Jesus.
I was 14 and had been in gymnastics for about 10 years. At that time, I was deeply struggling with comparison, self-worth, and fear surrounding many of the skills required at my level. I felt out of control, constantly sad, and like I was never good enough. That inner dialogue—paired with comments from a loved one about my inadequacy—flipped a switch in my brain, and I became anorexic. What began as an attempt to gain control spiraled out of control fast. It led to depression, isolation, and a strained relationship with my parents. While I seemed in control of my body and food, I was completely out of control in every other area of life. I was losing weight, but I had never been more miserable.
After five long, tired, and painful years of anorexia, the pendulum swung in the opposite direction. When I was 19, I went home for a party—and something inside me changed. I started eating all the things. I finally felt again—pleasure, happiness, and a strange sense of being alive after years of numbness. I thought it would just be a weekend of “freedom,” and that I’d return to my old patterns. But I couldn’t stop. Binge eating quickly took over. I would wake up thinking about food, eat thousands and thousands and thousands of calories until I passed out from exhaustion, and then wake up and do it again. I avoided people and spent all of my time, money, and energy bingeing and compulsively exercising to try and undo the damage.
After about a year of this cycle, I went out to eat—hungover, I might add—and binged on multiple orders of food. I came home nauseous from the food and alcohol and had the idea that if I threw up, I’d feel better. I had no idea that single moment would begin one of the darkest decades of my life.
I threw up once, and I was hooked. That moment felt freeing, powerful—like I finally had some kind of control over my body again. But what followed was despair. Dehydration, bloating, a raw throat, exhaustion… and yet I would wait in desperation for the next time. I was addicted. I felt like a drug addict trapped in a nightmare.
Bulimia followed me through college, into my early adulthood, and even into marriage. I carried this secret that I was deeply ashamed of, yet I couldn’t stop. I read the books, tried the diets, went to therapy—but nothing worked.
In 2022, I became pregnant with my first viable child, and it was as if the pregnancy temporarily cured me. The urge to purge was gone. I still struggled with food—especially sugar—but the constant obsessions and compulsions faded. However, after giving birth, the battle returned. I felt pressure to lose the baby weight but was also genuinely hungry—pumping, recovering from a C-section, caring for a newborn, and functioning on no sleep. Eventually, I tried another diet, and it completely triggered my bulimia again. I was spiraling.
I remember one moment that broke me: I had just binge ate on the way home from grocery shopping, intending to purge. Then my sweet husband had to grab something from my car where he found all the empty food wrappers and boxes that I had binged on the way home. The shame I felt was unbearable. I was a wife, a mother—I had everything I ever prayed for. Why was this still happening?
I truly believed I was bound to this disorder for life.
But God.
If you had asked me before if I was religious, I would’ve said, “Sure, I pray.” But I didn’t really know what it meant to follow Christ. In 2021, after months of trying to get pregnant, I had a miscarriage. That’s when seeds were planted. If you’ve walked through infertility or loss, you know—it’s humbling and out of your control. I started leaning on God in a new way, though I wasn’t consistent. I read faith-based books, but didn’t really understand them. I didn’t have anyone to walk alongside me.
Then, in February 2023, I gave birth to our first daughter. And with that miracle came a deep, undeniable nudge to seek God more intentionally. When I saw someone post about the “Bible in a Year,” I thought it would make a good New Year’s resolution—and it became one of the only resolutions I’ve ever stuck with. I loved listening to Father Mike and learning about Scripture, but I quickly realized I needed more.
On February 28, 2024, my family and I attended our first church service. I was still actively bulimic, seeing a therapist and nutritionist—but nothing was helping. That next Sunday, the sermon was about Christ-centered identity, living testimonies, and worshiping daily. As I sat in that pew, I felt something supernatural—like life had just been breathed into me. It was as if a gentle wind passed by. I thought, “What was that?”
I didn’t know it in the moment, but Jesus saved me that day.
I walked out of that church, and I was never bulimic again. I was freed of this disease.
Jesus supernaturally delivered me. Since that day, my relationship with God has only deepened. I now navigate postpartum with our second baby in an entirely new way. My relationship with food and my body has been transformed—and it’s all because of Jesus. I would not be where I am today without Him.
Over the past year and a half, I’ve been asking God about my purpose. And I believe this is it: to share the good news of healing in Jesus with those struggling with eating disorders, mental illness, or addiction—all things I’ve battled. I wholeheartedly believe that I could’ve found freedom years ago if I had opened a Bible, invited Jesus in, and followed Him through the dark.
My hope is that this blog becomes a vessel for God to reach you—
to show you that you are not too far gone, that freedom is possible,
and that the same Jesus who healed me can heal you
Life After Freedom
My life looks drastically different than it did even a year and a half ago. Today, I have a daily Bible practice where I spend time in God’s Word, I pray throughout the day, and I do my best to keep an ongoing conversation with Him. These practices keep me grounded and help me be the best version of myself—so I can live out my purpose as a wife, mother, and hopefully an encouragement to you as a reader.
If I could sit across from you—the woman battling an eating disorder like I did, or wrestling with addiction, or silently struggling with mental health—I would look you in the eyes and tell you this:
There is hope, because God is a good God—and He loves you.
You were made in the image of God. He loved you before anyone on this earth even knew you. He has great plans for your life. He is your beacon of hope, the light at the end of the tunnel. When you lay everything down, surrender to Christ, and trust that He can heal you—anything is possible.
A Prayer for You
Lord, thank You for giving me the courage to share my painful journey—the one that ultimately brought me closer to You. I pray for the woman who is struggling right now, feeling lost, broken, or stuck. May she find her way back to You through these words You placed on my heart. I ask that she finds hope, encouragement, and peace in knowing that full and lasting recovery is possible—but not without You, God.
While therapists and nutritionists are such a vital part of the healing journey, true and lasting freedom comes through You. So I pray that every woman reading this who is desperate to get well would begin her journey toward You. May these words be the spark that leads her closer to Your grace, to Your truth, and to Your healing hand.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
“For sin shall not have dominion over you: for you are not under the law, but under grace.”
—Romans 6:14
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