It feels like it’s been a long grieving process; like a part of me was dying slowly before my eyes for the past few years and I had to watch it unfold. I just couldn’t let her go. No matter how mean, how frustrating, how deceiving that voice was, I could not let her go. Hadn’t she given me success? Hadn’t she brought me glory?

Or had I forgotten that there was pain and fear all along?

After gaining the weight back, I felt I had lost the powerful Rachael, the Rachael in control. And now I’m left with a blanket of fat to cover me up. Or is it the eating disorder covering me? Did I just need to let that past Rachael go? I felt like losing all the weight through restriction and gaining it all back plus some left me feeling that I lost a piece of myself. And every day I thought about bringing her back to life.

I love this past Rachael but I hate her all the same. I knew that the only way to let go, to pull myself out of the rut where I felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere, was to find a happy medium instead of skyrocketing up into restricting euphoria only to plummet down into binge-eating depression.

So I destroyed her. I destroyed “Rawchael”, the hurt, scared girl who always feared weight, who always felt trapped. I set up a “burial” this week for the scared Rawchael and threw away the bad Rawchael.

It was one of the hardest, most difficult parts of this process because it hurt so badly to learn to accept that I may never be All-American again, that my race times may never be the same, that my weight may just stay where it is—and that I have to be okay with this. I have to be happy and fine with where I am in order to live life to its fullest and be there for my teammates. I have to be okay with letting go so that I can live, not just exist.

I have to be okay with where I am. That means I can’t weigh myself. It means I can only do the best I can with food. It means I need to try to avoid the mirrors. The mirrors are tempting, but they bring me down, just like the scales do. Each time I stop at the mirror to “measure” I pull myself away from it, saying, “No! No measuring with your eyes. Leave it.” It’s sad that I can’t love my body yet but it will come in time. At least I have learned to accept it.

Each time I thought about the past, I reminded myself: “You have to be okay with this.” As in, you have to be okay with where you are now, and that you may stay at this weight for the next few years. I have to be okay with where I am at now. And every time I reminded myself that I felt a wave of relief; there is no more pressure from that internal voice to drop the weight again, that if I didn’t drop the weight I would be a failure. I told myself that I could maintain this weight for the next few years of college and I would be okay.

So yes, I’ll admit it—I’ve been harboring Rawchael, the girl that still wants to lose weight, all this time in “recovery.” I think I knew it, deep down. I just didn’t want to let go of her. I still wanted that anticipation, that possibility that I could lose all the weight again. I thought I could still keep her and recover.

I’m going to enjoy life and live more. I am allowed to lose weight but I’m not allowed to have to lose weight. Sure, I will feel the ghost of that former self hurting me mentally each day, or maybe just some days more than others. I will still have “perfection” tendencies and it’s not like I feel like I can suddenly eat any food I want.

There will still be difficult days. But I have the tools to help me through each day, to push those negative voices away. I’ve learned hunger and fullness cues, I’ve experimented with different ways of eating, I know how to relax and understand cravings, and my meal plan helps me to eat without feeling as much guilt. But even though I had the logistics down for a while now, I still needed to let go of the mental side behind it all, fueling the feeling of inadequacy.

I see what they mean when they say, “You have to want to recover.” When I realized how stuck I felt on Monday, I realized I was the only person who could change that now. Like I said, I have the support and tools…the last part I had to change was me and how I viewed the world.

I realized that despite all the great performances I had during my freshman year, I was in constant fear of weight gain, constantly in hunger, constantly over-thinking food. I kept asking myself, how could I continue to live like this? How could I keep up this willpower?

Now I can tell myself that I don’t have to live like that anymore. I don’t have to live like that. Ever since I “buried” Rawchael this week the voice has diminished to a mere whisper.

I am not fixed. I am not healed. But I took a huge step from where I was just one week ago.

I have to be okay with this.

My therapist said that the last piece to fall into place would be to accept myself, to love my body. No one said this was easy; and it sure as hell isn’t. But it takes courage, and I know that’s one thing I’ve still got.

It’s time to prove it.