Beyond the Horizon: My Five-Year Journey
I would like to share the story of one of my adolescent clients. She has faced significant challenges with eating distress and body image and recently wrote about her aspirations for the next five years following her recovery. As an artist, she possesses a remarkable sensitivity and artistic mind, allowing her to unfold her pains, life experiences, and sense of self through her artwork. During our sessions, her poetic way of processing difficulties was very insightful. Now, she envisions her daily routine across various aspects of life, including social, emotional, environmental, and interpersonal facets, and reflects on how she will evolve over the next five years. Her colorful depiction of her future is truly impressive. I sincerely express my gratitude to my client N***K** for sharing this wonderful writing. At the end, you will see her artwork that symbolizes her recovery.
Where do you want to be in 5 years after your recovery?
I want to be in New York. I’ll be in my last year of Cooper Union. Since it’s my senior year, I’ll be engaging in my independent studies and senior thesis/portfolio. I’ll be able to use any materials I want, and concepts I wish. The world will be my oyster. I’ll be alone in my studio. But being alone will no longer faze me. I will relish my time in a serene environment. The skylights will let in the sun, and my hands will not rest and art will develop and my mind will be running, steadfast. And when it rains, I won’t sit in the corner and stare out the window. My mood is something that I can control. Yes, my environment still affects me, yes, my social interactions still affect me, but I will keep my inner calm and be able to hold a level of stability. Eating by myself will not be something I look forward to because I can eat anything and everything without limit. Eating by myself will be a chance for me to rest while mindfully tasting, and I can eat while reading a good book, or by looking out the window, instead of being sucked into my phone screen. That day, after I wake up and have some morning movement, maybe a walk by the water or through the trees, I would work for a few hours on my art. I’d eat lunch alone - whole foods that satisfy me. I wouldn’t be afraid to go out to a cafe later and have a pastry - something I would usually never eat. I’d enjoy it, and I would not feel any pressure or need to finish it, nor would I have a temptation to eat even more afterwards.
Later, I would meet with my friends who I have studio class with. We’d eat out in a restaurant with ambient lighting and jazz music trickling out of old Bose speakers. I would order whatever I’d want, regardless of how “healthy” it is. And, I would not feel guilty while eating it even though I knew I had already eaten out once that day. I would eat my meal slowly while conversing with my peers. And later, I would get home late and I would engage in a self-care routine. Showering, skincare, nice pajamas, and a book. I would not be thinking about binging on snacks after holding myself back at dinner because I had eaten until I was satisfied at the restaurant. I wouldn’t start crying because I felt bloated from the food I had eaten. I’d sleep peacefully, and wake up, for once, comfortable in my own body. The good sleep and the regulated eating routine would allow me to metabolize well, and I would wear the clothes I would want to wear that day, and I would feel energized as well.
Most importantly, I would feel comfortable with myself. Confident, even.
Now, you can see her artwork below.
"Her artwork beautifully captures the depth of her pain through the stream of her tears. Yet, despite this sorrow, her lifted head, upward gaze, and firmly clenched fist powerfully express her will and strength to heal