It was the first night of 6th grade science camp. All through elementary school, I looked forward to this week away from home; it meant I was a big kid, and adventure, and meeting new people from other schools in the county.

Although it was decades ago, I still remember the initial feeling of exhilaration as I walked into the mess hall for dinner wearing my favorite clothes- a pale blue short-sleeved sweater with tiny flowers on it, green corduroy pants, and suede saddle shoes (brown tones, not the black & white version). I sat down at a table for 8. I can’t remember if I sat at this table because it was assigned or if, because I was late, it was the only one with an empty seat, but every face sitting there was new to me.

As I took a seat, one of the boys asked, “Are you a boy or a girl?” I remember laughing it off; I thought my short hair was the height of femininity, I mean, couldn’t they tell by my pretty floral sweater that I was a girl?!

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On the journey to recovery, we face hills and valleys, setbacks and victories, lessons and testimonies. I found it helpful to start by asking Jesus to help me see my false beliefs about food, my body, myself, and God, and replace them with His Truth. While that unraveling process continues today, I became freer with each lie He exposed. After a couple of years, Jesus placed people in my life that helped me learn how to nourish my body and pair foods in ways that brought me happiness, helped me stay fueled, and made me feel better physically and mentally.

Eventually, the day came when I desired to be more intentional to move my body with joy. Almost daily, I found myself lost in thoughts of what that might look like. Sometimes I felt excited and ready to start a gym membership, yet other times I imagined horrific scenes of people staring at me, talking about me, giving disapproving looks, and calling me out for any number of reasons I didn't belong at the gym. I...