Anonymous

Being a human is hard. Being a human with an eating disorder is inexplicably hard. Every time I think I have control over the situation, my eating disorder pulls a fast one on me and reminds me what is really in charge — food and exercise.

Seven years before I was born, my mother made a decision that would change her life—and lead to mine.

Over those five years, I volunteered on hot summer days and rainy mornings. I stood in snow, wearing warm layers and fleece mittens. I volunteered beside women and men, many of them young, like me, but some older and wiser and living out a lifetime of experience on those sidewalks.

I was married to my own child for 21 years. I thought I was marrying my high school sweetheart, but I was actually becoming my husband's mother.

The sad thing is, it took someone almost destroying me to make me open my eyes to the extent of what happens when we talk not about a culture of consent, but about temptation and defense instead.

I start each day by drawing two cards for guidance, and then further consulting the deck. Last fall, tarot cards saved my life.

How is it possible to be an accidental fluffer on a porn set? The first time I realized I was a fluffer by default was during a gig at Adventure Studios.

That’s part of the problem, I think. I keep waiting for my sexual partners to figure out how to bring me to orgasm.

If you go, I’ll have to pick up all the dog poop. I will have to take out the trash. I will have to sleep alone.

Living with OCD and overcoming compulsions or obsessions is not a linear process. I’ve had several bouts of compulsions in my life, and even if I’ve resolved one, it’s likely another will reveal itself or I’ll relapse. Likewise, disordered behaviors around food and exercise are inherently not rational. Recognizing these behaviors is a start, but the work to move from acknowledgement to action and change has only just begun!