I used to let anxiety control me—it whispered doubts into everything I did, fueling the eating disorder that once defined me. Over time, I learned to recognize its voice instead of running from it. When anxiety shows up now, I name it, breathe, and choose to respond with compassion instead of fear. Healing my relationship with food taught me that control doesn’t equal peace—acceptance does. Because I’ve faced those thoughts head on, I can help others see that recovery isn’t about silencing the struggle, but understanding it and learning how to live freely alongside it.