Finding yourself is hard– plain and simple. The journey to discovering who you really are as a spirit, soul, and being is not an easy one, especially after you’ve become so accustomed to being who others tell you you are. I’ve spent the past fifteen months or so being told by an eating disorder how I should act, what I should want, and who I should be. Along with that, I also became more of a people pleaser than I already was. It became my responsibility to keep everyone happy. If they weren’t, Ana always had a reason for why it was my fault. Thus, I developed a need to always meet what I perceived others’ expectations of me to be. Seeing as I felt that I needed to be perfect to meet expectations, this was quite the undertaking.

By the end of my time at my early college high school, it had become common among my classmates to say, “But you’re Jordan!” as if that meant something. When something along those lines was said, it implied that I would do a certain thing, act a certain way, or know the solution to a certain problem- just because I was me. If I hadn’t always done my homework, always prepared ahead of time, always jumped on extra credit opportunities, almost always had an answer to questions in class, always worked endlessly to maintain my GPA and spot at the top of my class, would being Jordan have meant anything? I’m not so sure that it would have if I hadn’t given such meaning to my name. I became so accustomed to trying to fill the mold though- to being who everyone else thought I was. Now, I will say that there are certain things that I would have done regardless of whether they were expected of me or not, but the expectations that I perceived to be there drove me to go two extra miles, instead of one.

Recovery has consisted of a lot of things though, and discovering who I am apart from what I perceive others’ expectations of me to be, discovering my identity without my eating disorder, is one of them. This has been no walk in the park, but I’m starting to learn a few things about me, myself, and I:

I love music, and I don’t have to be perfect at it to continue with it. I love playing flute, and the skill level that I’m at can’t define my worth. It’s okay to love to play, even if I’m not the best.

Writing has become a huge hobby. I may not be fantastic at it, but it helps me work through things and vent. There’s also not much better than getting feedback from someone who says something I’ve written has positively affected them in some way.

Fashion and hair. I’m not a total guru, but I like having fun with them.

I’ve come to really love dance. With my one semester of experience, I can say that ballet is my favorite out of the forms I’ve tried. No, I will never be a ballerina, but that’s okay with me. I’m okay with it being a hobby done purely for fun, and Ana can’t stop me with her pleads of, “You must be the best if you are to continue.”

God has big plans for me, and He will equip me with what I need.

I can never get too much sleep.

I love helping others. I rarely have the right words to say, but there’s a reason I have two ears and one mouth. I’m proud of the fact that even though I am still Miss Talkative, I’m also learning to listen.

I’m sixty-one inches of fierceness.

Most of all though, I’m a Daughter of the King of Kings. Regardless of what I’ve done, where I’ve been, what I’ve gone through.