What I Wish I Knew When I Was New to Recovery
When I was just starting out in recovery, I remember feeling completely overwhelmed. Scared of the unknown. Uncertain I could do this elusive thing called recovery.
I wanted to get better, I HAD to get better, I felt I didn’t have a choice but to get better, but I had no idea what “better” looked like or where to begin. I couldn’t imagine a future separate from my eating disorder and I didn’t know how to take those initial steps.
That’s where a coach came in. I readjusted goals and took it one step at a time. But you know that part of the story.
Looking back now, I wish I could sit down with that version of myself and share a few things I’ve learned along the way.
Here’s what I’d tell her (and maybe what you need to hear, too):
1. First, bump up support.
When I started recovery, I tried to do it all alone at first. I had lost my treatment team and had very little support.
It didn’t work.
Treatment was on the table, but due to financial barriers, that was no longer an option. I had an outpatient treatment team, but that wasn’t enough on its own. I eventually added an eating disorder recovery coach, mentors through free programs like The Eating Disorder Foundation and ANAD, my sponsor, and support groups. Having someone walk alongside you — a coach, therapist, friend, mentor — is what makes recovery stick. It took all of that — and more — for me to recover.
People often think they can do it alone, that coaches are “extra” or unnecessary. But my coach was a game-changer. Every person on my support team played a different role: they challenged ED thoughts, held me accountable, and reminded me of my motivation when I couldn’t remember it myself.
Recovery is hard enough as it is. You don’t have to white-knuckle it. Building a strong support system isn’t a sign of weakness; it’s one of the most powerful choices you can make for long-term healing.
2. You Don’t Have to Do Recovery Perfectly
I used to think recovery meant following my meal plan 100%, going to every session, never missing a step. And I did that, I followed my meal plan 100% for months. The pressure and expectations I put on myself was intense. And then I missed a meal and felt like I failed.
But recovery is not a straight line. It’s a practice. A mindset shift.
What matters is not that you never stumble, but that you keep getting back up. The lapse doesn’t define your recovery, action, what you do next after a slip or lapse is the most important thing. As they say in AA, do the next right thing.
3. It’s Okay to Grieve
I wasn’t prepared for the grief.
Grief for the years I lost, the relationships that suffered, the jobs lost, my health that declined, the identity I had built around my illness. I missed the false sense of control the eating disorder gave me, the false sense of safety, even as I knew it was hurting me.
Letting go felt like stepping off a cliff, and I had to relearn what brought me comfort, joy, safety, and meaning. I had to build a whole new life outside the eating disorder.
Feeling sad or angry about what you’ve lost does not mean you don’t want recovery.
It means you’re human. And no matter how much time or other things were lost, remind yourself, you have a whole life ahead of yourself ready for you to live it.
4. Life Gets Bigger (And Sometimes Scarier)
Early recovery felt like standing in a dark, empty room. It was like being surrounded by shadows, demons whispering all the old eating disorder lies, and no clear way out. I felt trapped, disoriented, and terrified of what might happen if I stayed…or if I left.
But with time, I learned I wasn’t really alone. My support system became the lantern that lit the corners of the room. Little by little, the shadows receded. I found the door.
And when I stepped through it, I realized the world outside was so much bigger: full of color, possibility, and space I could fill with people, passions, and purpose that actually brought me life.
Recovery is a full-time job: going to sessions, prioritizing meals, adopting new coping skills. But doing so frees up mental and physical energy to build your life.
Suddenly, I had free time, down time, space in my brain, energy, and that was uncomfortable.
I wish I had known this was normal.
Now many years into recovery, I have learned is okay, and necessary, to rest. At first, I spent that time walking or scrolling social media because I didn’t know what to do with myself. Over time, I started crocheting blankets, going to coffee with friends, and reading books I had put off for years. I have adopted new alternative coping skills to replace the maladaptive (or some may argue the ED as adaptive) ones I had.
Recovery gives you back a bigger life, but it can take time to figure out how to fill it. It can take time to figure out what is meaningful to you apart from your eating disorder. But when you do embrace the new empty space, life becomes beautiful.
5. You Are Not Broken
Perhaps most importantly, I’d tell my younger self this:
You are not broken, unworthy, defective, or beyond help.
I used to think the eating disorder made me a bad person, defective, flawed. I felt I caused so much hurt, so much pain, to the people I loved and more importantly, to myself. I lost self-esteem and self-worth because of it.
I had to realize I truly was sick. No one would think a person with cancer is a bad person or causing their struggles. Mental illness is no different.
Recovery is not about becoming a different person. It’s about remembering that you were whole all along and learning to trust that truth again. I did the best I could with the coping skills I had. I am not at fault for struggling with multiple mental illnesses.
And now, recovery gives me the chance to write a new chapter. One where I get to choose how I show up, take care of myself, and build a life that feels like mine.
Today, I help others find that same truth for themselves. That they were never broken, just hurting and I walk with them as they build the skills to live fully.
Final Thoughts
If you’re at the beginning of recovery right now, know this:
you are not alone and it’s okay to feel scared. You can be scared and do the pro-recovery behaviors anyway.
And recovery doesn’t happen overnight. I cannot give you a time frame because everyone is different. But the progress is in the consistency. Slowly building new habits and new ways of thinking.
Take one small step at a time. Break it down into small, measurable, specific goals: one meal, one coping skill, one act of courage. I set the intention of doing one pro recovery behavior every day, whether that was challenging a fear food, adding something to my meal plan, or had nothing to do with food, like texting a friend or coach for support.
These little gestures add up to real progress. Recovery is built on small steps forward.
Your future self will thank you.