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I was a ball of energy throughout my sophomore year, both literally and metaphorically. Being a teenager who seized every opportunity he had to socialize and have fun, I could usually be seen wearing a radiant smile which projected the rays of sunshine within me. But when junior year came around, people suddenly became critical of my physique. It felt as if every single person I came across mocked my weight. Unfortunately, the criticism got under my skin and the opinions of others began dictating my simplest decisions and controlling my everyday life. As a result, I began to mold my physical appearance.

Because I have a tendency to actively compare myself with others, I was discouraged upon realizing that most of my friends had found a career path to purse, whereas I was still finding my place in life. Looking back, the beginning of my junior year was one of the hardest times because I had to adapt to the many transitions that took place within my life. Having very close relationships with my two sisters, it was especially hard to cope with the reality of them having to leave the country to study. I would perform my daily routine of getting ready for school, and I would be waiting at dining table waiting for my sisters, only to realize that they weren’t home. Adding salt to an open wound, life challenged me with another one of its demanding tests. Every morning before I left for school, I saw my dad lying on the couch in the living room with his eyes shut and his hands clenched in the patchy strands of his grey hair. When I came back home, I saw my dad sleeping in the exact same place he was before I left. I knew that cancer would not go easy on him. However, nothing could prepare me for the overwhelming hopelessness brought about by my inability to do anything to ease his suffering.

I had trouble dealing with the drastic changes taking place within my life, and I genuinely felt unprepared to tackle the world. Because I was at such a low point within my life, I was more susceptible to be pressured by social influences.

Every time I saw my dad’s weary face, I had the aching desire to be the one battling against the disease, to be the one suffering in his place. Every day, I was overwhelmed with bitter defeat knowing for a fact that his health was deteriorating with every minute that passed. To counter my feelings of despair and to compensate for the times when all I could do was helplessly watch my dad struggle, I decided to study medicine and devote my life to helping others.

Having been a student who didn’t have proper work ethics during the first two years of high school, I was often sneered at when I told my peers about pursuing a career path in medicine. And because this belittling encouraged me to validate myself, I was determined to excel at school. As a result, I willingly skipped meals, cancelled hangouts and even disregarded my own family so that I could meet the demanding academic standards. At school, my teachers praised me for my newly developed work ethic and my peers complimented me throughout my weight-loss process. Although I had a set goal for my weight-loss journey, the persistent compliments from people around me encourage me to consistently lower my target weight. Similarly, because my perfect GPA suddenly made me more noticed at school, I was determined to maintain my scores throughout my academic career. In a sense, these compliments I received added more pressure into my life because I developed a fear of not meeting the new set of expectations I kept imposing on myself.

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Every morning, the first thing I’d do before getting ready was to step on the scale. The number I saw on the scale each morning would dictate my meals for the day. I woke up every day feeling frustrated and defeated, but I prevented myself from revealing any of these problems at school. I intentionally overloaded myself at school with classes, tutoring sessions and extracurriculars so that people would view me as being ‘perfect.’ The underclassmen would come up to me to seek advice because, in their words, they thought I “had it all.” I wish I could have told them about my constant struggle and problems – the fact that I felt all this pressure on my shoulders, or that talking to them was making me feel light-headed – but I’d always respond by encouraging them to persist in their goals.

Being at school was always great because the surrounding reinforced the fact that I was ‘thriving’ in life. But by the time I got back home, I felt drained and exhausted. Because I was more comfortable with being myself at home, I wasn’t concerned about upholding the same identity of being a perfect figure. I shunned my family members from my life because I didn’t want to project any of my anger onto them. Because I realized that any slight inconvenience would trigger my frustration, I decided that it just better to stay in my room once I got home. As time progressed and I appeared to be thinner every week, my family members became very concerned for my health. They worked collectively to encourage me to eat more and rekindle interaction with the family.

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The first act my mom took to help me recover was taking me to see the family physician. I can still vividly remember walking through hospital corridor while questioning the need to be at the hospital. The main reason I was so reluctant to visit the hospital is because I was in denial. Like anyone else, I didn’t want to be referred to as a patient, nor did I want to accept that fact that I needed help.

When I was called into the doctor’s office, I kept looking down at my feet because I didn’t want to establish any form of interaction with the physician. I would remain silently sitting in that position, while the doctor diagnosed me and my mom worriedly rants about my eating habits. With every hospital visit, the amount of medicine in my cabinet increased. It was almost certain that I was prescribed some type of supplement or anxiety medicine with every doctor my mom took me to.

Although I was annoyed by the fact that my mom checked on me to make sure I was taking the supplements. After a few weeks, I started taking the supplements voluntarily because I noticed how it benefitted my mood as well as my productivity.

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No matter how effective the medications were in helping me regain my appetite or to reduce my anxiety, there was still an emotional factor that I was deprived from. One night, my mom came into my room, coaxing me to confide in her. I, however, was cruel to her by refusing to talk to her and completely ignoring her presence. My mom eventually could not maintain her poise and her frustration was released in the form of tears. She reached out to hug me, pleading me to cooperate with her. I too, in need of an emotional catharsis, burst into tears, apologizing to my mom for giving her such a hard time. It was during that moment in which I realized the mutual love between me and my family that encouraged me to fight my inner struggle.

That night, I took a big leap of faith in myself and knocked on my parent’s door for the first time in three months. Although I spent most of the night thinking about the irony within my words and actions, I fell asleep soundly right between my parents.

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Although I managed to overcome my internal struggle, I sometimes still feel as if I am moments away from relapse. Even today, I sometimes see a plate of food as a number, or I’m thrown off by the slightest fluctuations in my weight. But because I have learned to appreciate the love and patience my friends and family were providing me with all along, it was a lot easier to exert control on my emotions. This moment of awakening liberated me from an intolerable cycle of despondency and I experienced an unrestrained magnitude of happiness that I desperately needed in my life. Throughout these years, I have come to regret the choices I’ve made not only because of the seared-in psychological impact, but also because of the unnecessary trouble I created for the people around me.

I remind myself every day that although I am not capable of travelling back in time to start a new beginning, I am able to create a fresh start. Although I wish I realized sooner that my life did not revolve around a scale, the entire experience has provided me with something to reflect upon and learn from for the rest of my life. I have the tendency to dwell on my mistakes and overcomplicate my life by over-thinking all the time, but as I progress on my journey of personal growth, I am adopting a new attitude on life. I have learned to embrace the traits of an explorer, an explorer who does not dwell upon the rocks slipped upon, or the obstacles that demanded a leap of faith—but an explorer who focuses on living each day to the fullest while making the next a day to look forward to.

Thanks for joining me! I hope the sharing of my experiences will encourage people to share their stories as well.

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton