The Art of Becoming Whole Again
By Raya Walters (she/her)
My name is Raya Walters! I’m a senior in high school! I have a goal of being a pediatric nurse and will be studying nursing in college! I’m a huge advocate for eating disorders and mental health awareness due to my own past struggles that have made me who I am today!
The Art of Kintsugi
I recently learned about the art of Kintsugi, a beautiful approach to fixing once broken pottery. A gold lacquer is applied to fragile, damaged pieces, connecting them back together like a puzzle. You’re left with an entirely new product, something that can never be copied or recreated. Gorgeous plates, bowls, and vases adorned with lines of gold arching throughout them like rays of light. I often find my story more bearable to look back on when I can think of myself as a completely different piece of art.
When the Cracks First Appeared
My cracks first started to appear when I was 12-years-old. My childhood confidence and sassiness had worn off, and I was hit with a sudden realization that the world wasn’t something I could control. People were allowed to have their own opinions of me, and it was terrifying. From friend groups to clothes to makeup, I consistently reinvented my identity, hoping this time I would finally feel worthy, like I belonged. But that inescapable thought, “No one thinks you’re good enough,” never went away, no matter how many haircuts I got or new eyeliners I tried. With each reincarnation of myself, it seemed control was actually slipping farther and farther away. Blinded by my anxiety and hope for validation, anorexia found its place in the fractures of my life.
The Fractures Deepen
Truthfully, I don’t know when it first started, but over time, with the pressure, the once small, broken seam had ruptured. My ever-growing list of things to control now was even longer, and before I knew it, food was at the top. A basic necessity of life had become my worst nightmare. Yet, I felt like it was in power. I decided what was “good” and “bad,” picking when I felt I was deserving or not. However, that feeling faded as quickly as you think it would. With anorexia, your body tends to fight back; it knows what it needs to survive and doesn’t understand why the brain won’t listen. My mind was screaming, my body was deteriorating, but I was addicted.
Shattered, but Not Lost
I fought this battle back and forth for years, through treatments, hospitals, therapy, and dietitians, never letting my grip loosen on this pure chaos. I had become so chipped and cracked that I couldn’t remember what I even used to be like. Had I been a beautiful piece of pottery already, that simply couldn’t see what others saw? And now I felt completely shattered, utterly of no use anymore. Too many splintered cracks to hold hot soup or sweet ice cream, I believed I couldn’t possibly be fixed. But I hadn’t realized the love around me in shining gold, waiting for the moment I was ready to put myself back together. These people that had been by my side the entire time unwaveringly, changed my life in ways they will never fully understand. From a family that learned to grow together and truly communicate, to my best friends that never failed to remind me how worth it I was, the pieces started finding their way back together.
The Gold That Heals
I didn’t just wake up one day and choose recovery. I did however wake up one day and realize how my eating disorder was punishing these people. The people that wanted to see me soar and succeed, still stayed when I screamed, kicked, and destroyed my life to be skinny. They didn’t deserve that, and most of all I didn’t. I was ready, so ready to have a life, go to college, chase my dreams, and the more I thought about it, I didn’t want anorexia to be a part of it. Real recovery is scary and hard, I will never sugarcoat that, but I can breathe easier now. I’m not scared of black and white numbers and letters on the back of packages, I can move my body for the fun of it, not methodically, and most importantly I can give back to those that gave everything to me.
A New Kind of Beautiful
I see myself sitting adored on a shelf in an expensive store, covered in shimmering gold. Partially a relic of the past yet not defined by it. Something truly me, not for the likes of others, because real people love you for who you always were. Not what you try to be.
