I don't know where the idea of being skinny really came from. I don't know what took me to such drastic measures to become that way. And I wanted more than anything else to be accepted and to be loved, and through that, I wanted to be pretty. And somewhere in there, I thought to be pretty, I needed to be skinny.

I had grown up insecure and shy. That was just part of my growing up. When I hit high school, I realized that nobody knew who I had been before. So I took that as my opportunity to be outgoing and making friends. And then I thought, "I just need one more thing. And if I could just be skinny, if I could just be pretty, then I'll have it all. I'll be perfect." And I stopped eating as much as I could. I trained myself to hide hunger pains with water or with stress. I'd get so stressed I wasn't even hungry anymore. I'd look in the mirror and say, "Oh, I'm so ugly." I'd just see disappointment, like "You're almost there, but you're just not there yet." And I don't even know where "there" really was. I couldn't sit in a chair because it was painful to sit. I couldn't lay on the ground for any sort of dance exercise. The bones in my spine were starting to protrude. Always lightheaded, and my hair was falling out all over. So I started wondering, "Oh, man, I think I might have a problem. And I want to talk about it, but I'm still too scared and not ready to let go." During the same time that I'd been starving myself, I also had some friends who convinced me to try out a seminary class, a class on religion. And as we talked about, God loves each person, my chest was filled with just so much heat and warmth. I never, ever felt that way before. The teacher of the class would tell me, "God loves when you pray about the little things, even if it's not church-related or religious. Like, He loves to hear, like your dad wants to hear about your day." That started a daily practice of praying, and we talked about everything except about the thing that was actually taking my life away. If I admitted it, then it would also become a lot more real. And then I would have to change. I felt prompted to start taking dance classes at my high school. I knew to dance, that I needed to be fit. This was the first time in years now that I could talk to my sick mind, saying, like, "Well, I could at least eat one meal. You know, I have to do it to dance." I wanted to change. I want to stop caring and just love myself, but I couldn't. I had all these triggers I had set to help myself learn not to eat. And it was going to take a long time bringing them back down. I'm now at the end of high school, and there was a final dance at the end of the year. I got on a dress, and I went to my grandma's house to have it fixed up. At this moment, I was standing up on a chair, looking in the mirror and sort of reflecting on the end of high school, everything that happened the past few years. I'm like, "OK. I'm a little bit better. I still look too wispy, too shallow. I don't know if I want to be skinny, I don't know if I want to be healthy, but I'm still not there." This really strong feeling came to me, and it was very surprising, because I looked in the mirror and I didn't see myself anymore. I saw a woman who was very beautiful, who was very much loved. What I saw in the mirror was Heavenly Father saying, "This is who you're supposed to be. This is who I want you to become.

And if you'll trust me, I'll take you there. I'll help you become her.

There's so much good in you already.

There's so much potential for more. And you can get there. I will take you there." All those fears of "Do I look right?" finally melted away. There was finally peace in my mind, peace that I had not had. I had spent years of my life agonizing over myself and trying to fit in in these supposed definitions of beauty that were unrealistic and untrue. When God stepped in on that dressmaking moment, He was approaching me in a very different outlet because He knew that I was still not ready to hear I had an eating disorder or ready to talk about that, because He knew the problem was deeper-rooted than that. And that was, I just didn't have confidence in myself. I can't imagine how much love God has for me even now. Because of His grace that forgave me for harming the body that was gifted to me, I am now here. I am alive. I have my husband and my children. And telling the story, it feels very far away from me now. I am not an anorexic anymore. There are still the triggers that if I get overwhelmed in a day, I forget to eat, because I had trained myself that stress--I wouldn't eat right. And even there are moments when I still have maybe a low self-confidence. On those hard days, I remember, no matter what happens at work or at school or with my kids or whatever--no matter what happens today, I am still His daughter. And He still sees that potential in me, and He's still helping me get there.