Erin McKelle

Imagine you just went out with someone that you like, and have been out with a few times, but that you’re still not quite sure where things are heading with. Now, imagine that they call you to ask you if you would like to join them at a birthday party on Saturday, for one of their good friends whom they’d like you to meet. What’s your reaction? Are you jumping at the chance to get closer to their inner circle, already preparing your excuse for why you can’t attend, or do you land somewhere in between?

My fears of dependence were so potent that I decided to quit meds for good. Though I didn’t just throw away mental healthcare, mind you, since I had been, and planned on continuing to go, to weekly therapy sessions. I wanted to find other ways to manage my mental illness without popping pills on the daily.

I decided to experiment. I would set my alarm and get up at 6 AM (or earlier) for seven days straight, no matter what.

I’m adopted. It’s one of those things that has been a major force in shaping my identity, but that’s hard to talk about authentically almost anywhere.

You might not think of food as being a savior in eating disorder recovery, but I have actually found food to be one of my greatest sources of refuge — and not in a relapse sort of way.

Staying in the present moment has been shown to have many positive benefits for your health and well-being, so it's no surprise that mindfulness has become such a popular practice.

Just like you might find it difficult to fly while fat, going to the gym can also be a terrible experience to endure while fat. This is one of my favorite points to make when people justify their fatphobia with “I’m just concerned about their health.”

I’m ready to demystify the stereotypes and break down the stigma of bipolar disorder.

I’ve been writing about body positivity on the Internet for a couple of years now, but I have to admit that if anything, loving my body has become harder than when I started. Since then, I came to understand that I had an unresolved eating disorder that I battled for six years, I’ve started working out and I’ve discovered a passion for cooking.

I’ve said I was “good,” “fine,” or “doing well” after crying for hours, lying in bed all day with no motivation, and even experiencing suicidal ideation. My worst days are when the temptation to mask my pain with a smile is the strongest.