One Sleeve at a Time
Tammy Boyd Tammy Boyd

One Sleeve at a Time

That day on the bathroom floor, after crying for what seemed like hours, my eyes red and puffy from tears, I felt His presence surround me. I stood up, got dressed, telling myself, no more body checking.

The next morning, after taking off my pajamas, I walked past the mirror. I began the ritual, but something stopped me. No, I told myself, you don't need to do this.

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Where I Belong

Where I Belong

Almost immediately after I started eating, my life, my creativity, and my heart started to stir, like a bear stirring out of a long hibernation. The cave where I had stored the pieces left behind by my rationing, burst into life and started growing and blooming in ways I didn’t think possible.

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Maybe You’re Not Going Crazy

Maybe You’re Not Going Crazy

It was a downright heavy day, and I couldn’t pinpoint why. I couldn’t find an explanation for the heavy feelings of dread, self-loathing, and hopelessness that consumed me out of nowhere. I was sobbing as I grabbed my prayer journal to process this with Jesus.

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