Overview

Bulimia. What does it look like? Frail? White? Dark circles? Sunken cheeks? Blond hair? Blue eye? Nope, not this time. Bulimia was me. A beautiful, black intelligent, charismatic mother, sister, friend and entrepreneur. Bulimia looked like me. Every time I ate, purged and stared into the bathroom mirror, I was reminded that Bulimia did not discriminate, but it resided within every corner and crevice of my mind reminding me of my painful past with each and every regurgitation. I was purging memories of the molestation and promiscuity in my childhood and adolescence, spiritual life, dysfunctional family relationships, and finances. Of course to the outside world, I looked life I had it all together, but I knew the truth had to come out one day. Today is that day. The great controversy, the battle between head and heart is brought to the light and God prevailed.

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