From Disordered Eating to Athlete: My Healing Journey Through Movement

There’s a thread that runs through every chapter of my life: When things got hard, I run.

I was adopted as a baby. The first four years of my life consisted of neglect abuse, foster homes and finaly my forever family. And while I was raised in a loving home, I carried that unspoken question many adoptees know: "Do I truly belong?"

When I was two my parents divorced and I was placed back into foster care due to a tecnicality on the sate of Idaho's part. After a few short month filled with distress my mother and father were able to bring me home, to my knowledge I was the first and only adopted child with two seperate households.

My parents did all they could, form counseling to extra curricular activities to openly sharing information about my birth mom (or tummy mom as we called her) Yet, slowly, gradually my sense of fragmentation deepened. I didn’t know how to process the pain of my attachment issues or the loneliness of being so young with so much life experience. So I did what I had always done—I ran.

I escaped into my body when the world felt uncertain.

When I couldn’t control the chaos around me, I tried to control myself. First thought small acts of rebellion at a young age, then though self harm and finally my anorexia nervosa began: not as vanity, but as a desperate attempt to feel safe, certain, and in control.

Late night workouts became the norm, skipping meals, hidding food and endless amounts of running. But this disordered way of 'caring' for myself was fueled by fear, hatred even —not freedom.

June 2016-July 2017

💔 Movement as Control

For years, exercise was my coping mechanism—but also my cage. I trained to shrink, to punish, to outrun shame. I became really good at looking okay on the outside while feeling completely unwell on the inside.

And in the middle of that, I hit puberty.

I spiraled, constantly compairing myself to other girls who seemed to have it all put together. While I would sneak away to measure my hip bones and the circumference of my thighs.

This went on for years, I withered away, I remember thinking to myself that I woudl never make it to my 18th birthday. I endured many stays at inpatient eating recovery centers, underwent feeding-tubes, ran away from home. But nothing seemed to sooth the scared and lonely child inside.

🌿 The Shift: When Movement Became Medicine

It wasn’t one big breakthrough. It was dozens of quiet moments that built over time:

• Learning to live alone and not chase the high of short term relationships

• Pleasing myself before other people

• Quieting the loudest voices in my head to allow the softer, sweeter parts of me room to grow

• Rolling out my yoga mat instead of stepping on a scale

• Lifting weights to feel strong, not to burn off a “bad” meal

• Going for a walk to feel, not to fix

And eventually… saying yes to something bold and out of my comfort zone: a Spartan race.

That race marked the beginning of a deeper healing. Because for the first time, I wasn’t training to look a certain way—I was training to show up.

I trained with intention. I fed myself with love. I moved because I could—not because I had to.

June 2022

🛠️ Training With Purpose Over Perfection

I still work out. I still sweat. I still love moving my body.

But now it’s from a place of reverence, not resistance.

My workouts don’t control me anymore—they connect me to something deeper. My breath. My intuition. My power.

I no longer chase perfection—I train with purpose.I listen more than I force. I rest without guilt. I show up because it matters—not because I have something to prove.

August 2024

🧭 Why I’m Sharing This Now

Because I know I’m not alone. Because I work with women every day who are tired of punishing themselves in the name of “fitness” or “health.”

If you're navigating recovery, or reclaiming your body after trauma or disconnection…If you're a leader who supports others but sometimes forgets to care for yourself…If you're curious about stepping into your power through movement, not in spite of it…

Then this blog—and this journey—is for you.

💫 What Comes Next

In the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing my second Spartan race experience. Not just the training, but the mindset, the rituals, the tools, and the heart behind it all.

Because movement doesn’t have to be punishment. It can be medicine. It can build vitality, resilience, and confidence.

And as alwasy, I would love to hear from you. What have you overcome? Where do you see yourself in a year or more...? My inbox is always open.