Despite efforts to accept ourselves at any size and more realistic-looking models in advertisements, a large number of people worldwide suffer from eating disorders on a daily basis.
A Derbyshire lady who overcame anorexia has shared her experience in the hopes that it would support others experiencing similar difficulties.
Annie Windley weighed just 29 kg, or slightly more than four and a half stone, at her heaviest. She was in danger of having a heart attack because of her low weight.
The 21-year-old Woolley Moor resident has been battling anorexia for more than five years, during which time she has required extensive care, medical therapy, and multiple hospital stays. Annie, on the other hand, is in great shape and has recovered thanks to her passion of jogging. In October of last year, I ran the Chesterfield Half Marathon.
She said, “I had the happy awareness that the process of rehabilitation is amazing and should be exhilarating, remarkable, and amazing.
I suppose my anorexia will always be a part of me, even though I’ve learned to manage it and get over my obsession with eating. “It is never too late to make a positive change.”
Annie was first diagnosed with an eating disorder in 2012. When her recuperation finally began two years later, she faced numerous challenges, including being sectioned and experiencing uncontrollably rapid weight loss.
In October of 2017, I began battling more fiercely than I had ever done before; she went on, “I can’t say exactly what occurred, but this time, it was just for myself.”
The battle was amazing; every day was filled with agonizing emotions and remarkable bravery. I’m at my heaviest since 2014 after gaining three stone in the last four months.
Annie claims that she gained the realization that a person’s actions, their mannerisms toward others, and their degree of kindness matter more than their physical stature. According to her, these are the things that truly matter in life.
“These are the things that are essential to you and will bring you happiness.” Rather than organizing your entire day around eating or worrying about how to restrict, use that time to focus on something that matters to people.
Be a kind friend and daughter, make jokes, and engage in conversation with them. Exercise is typically believed to enhance mental health, and Annie is no different. Her passion for running gave her something to strive for, helped her heal, and kept her on course.
Her recuperation was aided by her participation in Chesterfield’s yearly half marathon. She ran the kilometers during her training, putting in a great deal of work and determination to complete the difficult course.
I use my morning run as an opportunity to remind myself of how fleeting and important life is. I can live a more flexible, free life now that I’m well.
I’m fortunate to have strong legs and a pounding heart, so I don’t waste time worrying about meals or watching calories. Exercise is a celebration of what your body is capable of, not a way to make up for what you ate.
“Pay attention to your desire to succeed and your excitement for where you want to go.” Annie claimed that all she had ever done was avoid meals like pizza and chocolate because the voices in her head turned them into numbers and percentage signs.
She has thankfully altered her viewpoint and offers guidance to those who have similar views.
There are bad days when you think recovery isn’t for you, feel “fat,” and lack the desire to eat. However, that is the very reason we have to continue.
We have to demonstrate to our disorders our ability to do so. We don’t want to spent our entire lives regretting and feeling sad about the things our anorexia prevented us from accomplishing.
Watch the video below to see her entire story:
My Husband Tried to ‘Fix’ Me with a New Schedule—My Epic Response Left Him Speechless
I was shocked when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule to help me “become a better wife.” But instead of losing my temper, I decided to play along. Little did Jake know, I was about to teach him a lesson that would make him rethink his new idea of marriage.
I’ve always been the calm and reasonable one in our relationship. Jake, on the other hand, can easily get caught up in new trends or ideas, whether it’s a hobby or a YouTube video that claims to change his life in just a few easy steps.
Jake and I were fine until he met Steve. Steve was the type of guy who thought being loud made him right. He’d talk over anyone who tried to correct him. He was also always single (no surprise there), but that didn’t stop him from giving relationship advice to all his married friends, including Jake. Jake, who should’ve known better, was impressed by Steve’s confidence.
I didn’t worry about it much at first, but then Jake started saying things like, “Steve says marriages work best when the wife handles the household,” or “Steve thinks women should always look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.” I’d roll my eyes and make sarcastic comments, but it was bothering me. Jake was changing. He’d raise an eyebrow if I ordered takeout instead of cooking, and he’d sigh if I let the laundry pile up—forgetting that I also had a full-time job.
Then one night, it happened. Jake came home with The List.
He sat me down, unfolded a piece of paper, and slid it across the table. “I’ve been thinking,” he began, sounding condescending in a way I’d never heard before. “You’re a great wife, Lisa, but there’s room for improvement.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
He nodded, not realizing he was walking into dangerous territory. “Yeah, Steve helped me realize that our marriage could be even better if you, you know, stepped up a bit.”
I looked at the paper in front of me. It was a schedule, titled “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife.” Jake had actually written out a plan for me based on what Steve—a single guy with no relationship experience—thought I should do to “improve” as a wife.
I was supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. every day to make Jake a gourmet breakfast, then go to the gym to “stay in shape.” After that? Cleaning, laundry, ironing—all before heading to work. Every evening, I was to cook dinner from scratch and make snacks for Jake and his friends when they came over. It was sexist and insulting on so many levels, I didn’t know where to start. I just stared at Jake, wondering if he had lost his mind.
“This will be great for you, and us,” he continued, unaware.
“Steve says it’s important to have structure, and I think you could benefit from—”
“Benefit from what?” I interrupted, keeping my voice calm. Jake blinked, surprised, but quickly recovered.
“Well, from having some guidance and a schedule.”
I wanted to throw the paper in his face, but instead, I surprised myself—I smiled.
“You’re right, Jake,” I said sweetly. “I’m lucky you made me this schedule. I’ll start tomorrow.”
He looked relieved, and I almost felt sorry for him as I stuck the list on the fridge. Almost. He had no idea what was coming.
The next day, I looked at the ridiculous schedule and smiled. If Jake thought he could hand me a list of “improvements,” he was about to learn a lesson. I opened my laptop and started a new document titled, “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” If he wanted perfection from me, there was a cost.
I started by listing all the things he’d suggested for me, beginning with the gym. “$1,200 for a personal trainer,” I typed, barely holding back a laugh.
Next was the food. If Jake wanted gourmet meals, that wasn’t happening with our current grocery budget. Organic, non-GMO, free-range everything? That wasn’t cheap. “$700 per month for groceries,” I wrote. And if he wanted fancy meals, he’d need cooking lessons too—those were expensive.
I leaned back, laughing as I imagined his face when he saw this. But I wasn’t done. The best part was yet to come.
There was no way I could manage all these demands and keep my job. If Jake wanted me to follow his absurd schedule full-time, he’d have to cover my lost income. I calculated my salary and added it to the list. “$75,000 per year to replace Lisa’s salary since she will now be your full-time maid, chef, and personal assistant.”
By now, I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt.
And just for fun, I added a note about expanding the house. If Jake was going to have friends over all the time, they’d need a separate space. “$50,000 to build a man cave so Jake and his friends don’t disrupt Lisa’s new routine.”
I printed out the list, set it on the kitchen counter, and waited for Jake to come home. When he arrived, he was in a good mood.
“Hey, babe,” he called, spotting the paper. “What’s this?”
Keeping a straight face, I said, “Oh, just a little list to help you become the best husband ever.”
He chuckled, thinking I was playing along, but as he read the list, his smile faded. “$1,200 for a trainer? $700 a month for groceries? What the hell, Lisa?”
I crossed my arms. “Well, you want me to follow your plan, right? I figured we should budget for it.”
His face turned pale as he flipped through the pages. “$75,000 a year? You’re quitting your job?”
“How else can I follow your plan?” I asked. “I can’t work and be the perfect wife, right?”
Jake looked stunned. The numbers and the absurdity of his demands hit him all at once. His smugness disappeared, replaced by the realization that he had messed up.
“I didn’t mean for it to be like this,” he stammered. “I just thought—”
“You thought you could ‘fix’ me like a project?” I said, my voice calm but firm. “Jake, marriage is about respect. And if you ever try to ‘fix’ me like this again, it’ll cost you a lot more than what’s on that paper.”
There was a long silence. Jake sighed and looked at me, defeated.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize how ridiculous it was. Steve made it sound reasonable, but now I see… it’s toxic. I’ve been such a fool.”
I nodded. “Yes, you have. And honestly, Steve has no idea what he’s talking about. Why would you listen to him?”
Jake’s face softened as the truth hit him. “You’re right. He has no clue.”
We tore up both lists, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like we were back on the same team. It was a reminder that marriage isn’t about being perfect—it’s about being better together.
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