I graduated college Saturday. I really did it. This is something–perhaps the only thing–I have always wanted, and now it’s mine. It’s mine, and no one, not even a fucking eating disorder, can or will ever take it from me. This belongs to me. It. Is. Mine.
It was the best day of my life. My entire family showed up, and being a child of a divorce that spanned 500 miles, that’s a rarity. But they showed up, for me. My two best friends were there also–people that have no obligation to me whatsoever, but who choose to love me out of their own free will. My extended family was there, too. This all meant so much to me. I will never forget the love I felt that day. So much love.
But I mustn’t fail to mention someone else who showed up for me Saturday: Annie.
There were many times I wasn’t sure I would make it to graduation. I almost dropped out at least once every year, and this past year I was so sick at some points that I thought I might have to be hospitalized. But I didn’t, and I wasn’t. I made it. I was there, and I was proud to be there. For my family. For my friends. For me.
Heart beating, lungs breathing, eyes wide open and hope embraced: there I was. This day was mine. This life is mine, too. Mine to love and to cherish, til death do us part.
Fuck you, anorexia. You’ve taken a lot from me, but you didn’t take this. You never can.