Farewell message to my eating disorder blog

Farewell message to my eating disorder blog

As my 75th birthday approaches at the end of December 2025, I find myself standing at a gentle crossroads. It’s time to loosen my grip on one chapter of life so I can step more freely into the next. Eating disorders have been woven through my life since I was eleven years old. They shaped me, silenced me, confused me, and—for many decades—defined me.
When anorexia took hold, there was no challenge to its authority. It embedded itself into my young brain and became the lens through which I viewed myself and the world.
It wasn’t until my thirties that I met a psychiatrist who believed in me—not the illness, not the mask, not the quiet compliance, but the person tucked underneath. That belief marked the start of a long, gruelling, extraordinary journey of self-recovery. It took twenty-five years to reclaim enough space inside my own mind to breathe again.
When I crossed the 51-per cent mark of healthy self in my mid-fifties, something remarkable happened: the words I had been storing privately in my diaries since childhood began to unfurl into the world.

The many benefits of writing and sharing our stories

Writing has always been my refuge. A haven. A place where truth could surface without fear. Written words have accompanied me through every high and low; they have never deserted me. My diary remains one of my closest friends, and I continue to write in it every day. But when I finally gathered the courage to share my story publicly—starting with my memoir A Girl Called Tim—I could never have foreseen what would follow.
Letting that story out, after 44 years of enforced silence, cracked something open. The “coming out” was not just an act of disclosure; it was an act of defiance. A final, decisive stand against the voice of anorexia. And it worked. Telling the truth dissolved the secrecy that had fed the illness for so long. In doing so, I began to discover who I really was—and who I had the capacity to become.

Telling the truth dissolves the secrecy

From that memoir sprang opportunities that feel, even now, almost surreal. I went on to write books with leading international researchers (they’re listed on the book page of my website), to speak at conferences around the world, to contribute as a national and international lived-experience advocate, and eventually to complete a PhD in Creative Writing.
Each experience broadened my world and introduced me to hundreds of extraordinary people—clinicians, researchers, families, and especially those living bravely with eating disorders.
You have all been part of my journey. Every reader, every guest writer, every person who reached out to share a piece of themselves—you have shaped this blog as much as I have.
Through mutual honesty and respect, we have held space for each other. We have built self-belief together. Each of us has affirmed, again and again, that yes, “I’m okay”. For this, I am profoundly grateful.

A relationship for two, not three

But seasons change. And this season is calling me toward new ground.
In January this year, life brought a beautiful surprise: I met a wonderful man named Graham. I was already blessed with a caring, supportive family of four children and five grandchildren, but Graham is the “cherry on the icing on my cake of life”.
With him, for the first time, I am experiencing a relationship as my full, authentic self—not as a tangle of illness, fear, and compensatory habits, but as a woman who is grounded, whole, and genuinely present. This is a gift I once believed would never be possible for me.
So here is the heart of my message:

Recovery of our healthy self can occur at any age.

I am living proof of this. And everything I have written—every blog post, every book, every shared story—has contributed to bringing me to this steady, contented place.
As I step away from maintaining this blog, I am not stepping away from the community entirely. The blog archive will remain available for you to revisit, explore, and reflect upon. The experiences gathered here belong not just to me but to all of us. They are part of a collective story of courage, heartbreak, healing, persistence, science, and hope.
I will continue in my role as a narrative mentor for those writing their life stories. Guiding others to shape their experiences on the page feels like a natural continuation of my purpose. But outside of that work, I will be focusing on self-fulfilment—engaging with life in new, wonderful ways, exploring possibilities I never had the freedom to consider when the eating disorder consumed so much of my energy.

Honouring the woman I am today

In truth, my decision to step back is not an ending so much as an expansion. I’m making room for experiences beyond the landscape that has defined so much of my life.
I’m honouring the young girl I once was, who fought so hard for breath and belonging.
I’m honouring the woman I became—the one who refused to give up, who kept writing in the dark, who showed up again and again for herself and for others.
And now, I’m honouring the woman I am today, who has earned the right to move into a new chapter with curiosity and confidence.

Thank you

Thank you for walking alongside me. Thank you for trusting me with your stories, your vulnerabilities, and your triumphs. Thank you for reading, writing, sharing, and returning over the years.
This blog has been a meeting place, a hearth, a home for lived experience. It exists because you showed up. And its legacy will continue because you will carry what you have learned here into your own lives, your families, your communities, your research, your practice, your recovery journeys.
As we move toward the festive season, I wish you deep contentment and peace. May 2026 bring you clarity where you need it, courage where you fear you lack it, and a sense of being “enough” exactly as you are. Truly, that is all any of us ever need.

With gratitude, hope, and affection,
June

• As of the time this farewell post is published, my blog is officially no longer accepting new posts. Importantly, however, the hundreds of posts that have appeared on the blog over its lifetime will remain accessible for easy reference.

---

An invitation

From life-writing mentor and manuscript editor, June Alexander

Would you like to write your story and/or take your manuscript to a professional publishing standard? Reach out and start today: