I described my how my eating disorder became an identity for me. It made me fit in with a group of people. It wasn't part of me, it was who I was. It became everything about me. It gave me an identity, and that was comforting. It gave me something to cling to, and when I chose to give that up, I was left with just Amy. Just this sad, little girl, who is by herself and has no idea who she is. I think now, that part of my healing will be found through finding who I am, finding out who I want to be, what I want to do with my life.

So who am i?

Who the fuck am i?

What am i?

"It takes courage to grow up and be who you really are."

E. E. Cummings

To grow up and be who I really am. I guess that also includes to learn who you really are. That questions seems to be popping up alot here lately. At least this week. It's been on my mind ever since I met with Leslie and we talked about how i found my identity through an eating disorder, and without it I'm stuck with just myself, Amy, and learning or deciding who I am.

I keep asking myself: Who am i? And halfway expecting the world to chime in and answer me. To tell me who I am and what I'm supposed to do. Is who I am pre-determined or pre-destined? Has it already been decided, long before I was even born? Was it written in my history book before I was conceived or is it something I choose? Something I determine along the way? Do I get to make it up as I go? Choose my own direction as each fork in the road presents itself? Do I pick the qualities and characteristics, the likes and dislikes as they arrive? Maybe this is one big guessing game. Maybe it's all set in stone already, and I just have to wait and see.

Spring is a time of new life. Each day, I feel more and more. I am finally finding my voice. I'm finding my outlet, through writing down every single thought and idea. I'm finding small glimpses of peace. Like when I'm sitting on my back porch with a dark frenchpress, that's smooth and warm. When the sun warms the back of my neck, and my feet. When I notice the color coming back to my skin. When the blue of my eyes is somehow brighter. When the breeze blows through my hair. I feel alive today!

Yet I am still faced with this nagging question: Who Am I?