My battle with anorexia was never just about caloric restriction or exercise compulsion. Those behaviors were surface-level indicators of a more complex issue underneath. The main fear that drove my illness had nothing to do with food itself—on the contrary, I longed for nourishment and sustenance. My source of terror was a loss of control. When life seemed too chaotic to manage or even make sense of, I found solace in at least being able to dominate myself. But I have a much different outlook now. As I continue on this healing journey, it becomes increasingly obvious to me that eating disorder recovery means accepting when I lack control.