Reflections on Recovery, Independence, Community, My Time at Project HEAL, and Leaving Home for College
Written by Alexandra Xu
As I write this piece, I’m sitting on the plane, gazing through the window at the sprawling trees and a glacial blue river that carves through the earth. I’m on my way to Houston, Texas — over 1000 miles away from my hometown in New Jersey.
By the time this is published, I’ll be moved into my dorm room at Rice University, where I look forward to exploring my interests in the social-cultural dimensions of wellness, social/affective psychology, and the formulation of equitable health policy. Already, a fierce, anticipatory homesickness strikes me.
I have been grappling with a peculiar sort of resentment towards my eating disorder, which confiscated many of my formative years. With thoughts of food, exercise, and body annexing my mental real estate throughout late middle school and early high school, I did not do what “normal” kids were doing. I was homeschooled for the better part of 8th grade, I became socially withdrawn (afraid to simply maintain eye contact with people outside my immediate family), and I quit piano and soccer (which I had devoted nearly all of my youth to). I lived an intensely private, home-bound life, interacting virtually exclusively with my parents.
When I entered a new high school, departing my home district and relinquishing the people I’d grown up with (who certainly wondered why I’d dropped out mid-year in favor of homeschooling and seemingly metamorphosed into a different person), I crafted a novel persona as the “health nut”. I renounced purported “allergens” like gluten and dairy; I rarely sat down; I fidgeted and brought my own food to lunch. Scarcely did I show up to social events, retreating still further into the secluded solace of my home and shrouding my ongoing battles with orthorexia and compulsive exercise.
Given that we valorize the performance of wellness as a token of social capital, no one disputed my “commitment” to health. I concurrently adopted a visage of discipline by avoiding socialization; I seemed caught up in an excess of academic and extracurricular endeavors (like piano, which I eventually restarted). With all the time I spent at home, fighting my illness, I believe I became increasingly dependent on my parents in a time when my peers were becoming more and more independent.
And so as I head off to college, I still don’t know how to drive. I feel “behind” on crucial life skills. And I feel sad about leaving my parents, who have functioned as my support system and are the only people I feel truly understand the specific nature of my disorder and what I underwent.
While I harbor some loathing for my eating disorder for somewhat impeding my development, and I believe I might’ve felt much more prepared to leave home and start a new chapter if I hadn’t been sick during those years, I feel so grateful to have such loving parents. Because of my eating disorder (as well as social-distancing measures necessitated by the pandemic), we’ve grown so much closer, and that is something I genuinely cherish. My mom has become my best friend, and I am lucky to have this bond that makes leaving home so hard.
Furthermore, in joining the recovery, body liberation, and health justice space through my content creation on @alexfoodfreedom, I am beyond grateful to have found a cause that lights me up, that I can honestly read and talk about for hours. My passion for shaping more equitable access to identify-affirming, culturally competent eating disorder care, for unpacking dominant constructions of well-being through an intersectional lens, is something I bring with me to college and beyond; I can confidently say I derived profuse connection, insight, meaning, and joy from devoting a good part of my high school career to my writing and advocacy. These engagements were not fabricated for the mere sake of a resume or to curry favor in the college admissions process, but things I partook in with conviction and hope to incorporate into my life’s work, and I’m proud of that.
And, of course, joining the Project HEAL family last year as the National Blog Manager was transformative. Surrounding myself with brilliant, kind people who harbor a laudable dedication to community and equity has illustrated to me the power of collective healing. Sharing, laughing, working, supporting, and healing in community is beautiful; connecting with folks with similar lived experiences and identities has been deeply insightful. Moreover, as Blog Manager, I have collaborated with so many incredible individuals with such resonant narratives; their words push me to think about eating disorders, health, and recovery in new ways, and I am genuinely inspired and honored to help share their stories and shift the discourse on mental health. I am now a firm believer in storytelling as a vehicle of healing and solidarity.
All in all, I am thankful that I was able to contribute to Project HEAL’s vital work and am excited to continue supporting their mission and holding space for this community.
When my plane touches down, I’ll be ready to rep PH with my “All bodies are good bodies” hat and take on the Houston humidity. And apprehensive as I may be about this new journey, I also feel hopeful, and I know I have two wonderful Project HEAL team members whom I am excited to meet in my new home city.
Alexandra Xu (she/her) is an incoming freshman at Rice University. She has served as the Blog Manager for Project HEAL and a policy advocate with Harvard STRIPED. Her writing has been recognized in Wear Your Voice magazine and with a National Gold Medal in the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards. You can find more of her work @alexfoodfreedom on Instagram.