A Letter to You

You know who you are



    I don’t want this to be some dramatic, sappy, self pitying letter where I spill my heart out and proclaim that you saved me. I know you didn’t save me, but you gave me a reason to save myself.

You said that you know I can do it. That I’m beautiful and worthy of being okay. You really believed in me even when that part of me was long gone. It’s sad to think I ever got to that point of despair, it’s weird when you feel like you literally have no purpose. Thoughts become the only tangible thing in your life and it seems the only ones floating in my head were the negative ones. I craved these because it gave me something to focus on besides how sad my perception of the world was at that time.

    You didn’t bring out the light in me, or the good side of me but you did something even better. You were, and still are, such a beautiful person that I wanted to be as beautiful when I was around you. When I brought out the good side of me, I got to experience more of the good side of you. Our collective joy turned into experiences that made me realize that I deserve to get better.

You unconditionally love me, even though that sounds way too stereotypical and cheesy to define you by. But it’s true. More than that sense of comfort you give me you also give me tangible proof that you aren’t going anywhere.

You didn’t judge me or tell me to stop while I had an anxiety attack over the break, you just held my hand, completely accepting of my flaws.

You dropped everything and skipped class (which something you just don’t do) when I told you I needed to talk.

You put me through treatment(s) sacrificing so much of your own emotional sanity to help me regain mine. You rubbed my back and sat through countless meals of me calling you a bitch for trying to feed me: trying to fight my eating disorder. You sent me that selfie I love of us we took three months ago when you heard that my referral for inpatient got sent in again because I’m slipping. You sat through countless doctors appointments, therapy sessions and hard nights because you love me and I have no words to describe the power that gave me.

You took the GO bus (even though you get lost on the bus in Toronto) three hours to come see me in treatment. You told me how proud you were of me, and I knew you meant it because you don’t say that lightly.

You made Christmas Eve in a hosptial something fun, made outings to the Guelph mall seem like a trip across the world. You made me a sign saying fuck anorexia for me when I had a bad day. You threw snowballs outside with me while we laughed about how terrified we were about that last pasta meal. You quoted mean girls with me not just to pass the time but to savour it. You made it hard to leave a place that I never (ever) saw myself missing.

By now I hope you know that you are more than one person. I couldn’t have gotten to the point I am at without you, each version of you I have been lucky enough to find. You are not just one person, but the amount of love, that I’ve come to accept, that not only have I gotten, but deserve. I love you, thank you.


Kate x