Good Enough
Page 18
I hugged Brenna. “I’ll miss you,” I said. “I’ll miss our talks. I’ll miss your comics recommendations.”
She giggled and handed me a piece of paper. “Oh, I have a whole list here for you to try. Because I’m not going to see you for a while. You’re going to beat this. You’re not going to come back.”
“She’s not.” Aisha stuck her head between us. Her eyes sparkled behind her glasses. “I know it’s hard not to copy me, since I’m so awesome, but you need to try.”
I stuck my tongue out at her and laughed. “It’ll be tough, but I’ll do my best.”
Brenna wasn’t laughing. “Do it for us. Because we couldn’t.” The words trembled in the air like a baby bird learning to fly.
“You’ll do it, too,” I said. “You both will.”
I’m going to miss Brenna. I’m going to miss everyone. I never thought I’d make friends in here. I never thought it’d be less than 100 percent awful.
I never thought that it would change my life. That it would change me.
Aisha just shrugged. “Maybe I can do it. We’ll see.”
I’m never going to act like that. “We’ll see” won’t get me through the lunchroom. It won’t make me eat my meals when Talia decides pizza is evil or I get frustrated that I’m not a better artist.
“We’ll see” can’t be my armor.
I will do this.
I have to do this.
There’s no way I’m not going to do this.
Those will be my sword and my shield, the words I turn to when I teeter and totter and falter and almost fall.
I’m going to do this.
I am strong. Stronger. Strongest.
Brenna told me we have to stay in touch. Everyone else said that, too (except Olivia, who is still way too cool for me), but Brenna’s the only one I really want to keep in my life. I’m glad to say good-bye to Ali. I understand her more now, but I still don’t want to see her again.
I think talking to everyone else would remind me of how sick I used to be. I don’t want that reminder. I want the present and the future, not the past.
My family is picking me up in an hour. Mom wants to go out for a celebratory dinner. Last night on the phone, Dad suggested an all-you-can-eat buffet.
“Dad.” I heard Julia in the background. “Seriously? No way.” Julia has my back, just like I have hers.
I might be ready for a buffet eventually, but not now.
Baby steps.
Sometimes infant steps, as long as I’m moving forward.
I don’t have to be Skinny Riley anymore. I don’t have to change my body.
I can be a new Riley, a Riley who draws and works on her art and sleeps late and rests. A Riley who’ll probably go out for ice cream tonight, not frozen yogurt. I may even eat the whole thing again, too.
I’m going to see Emerson and Josie tomorrow. We’re going to the aquarium. It’s a little-kid thing to do, but I’m excited. I love the penguins there, and we get to touch real starfish! Josie suggested it because it’s not focused on food.
I love her for that. I love both of my best friends. Emerson promised she’ll sign up for the next community art class with me since I wasn’t discharged in time for the first one. Josie promised she’ll help me catch up in my classes. Emerson said she’ll yell at Talia for me. I told her to beat Talia in a race instead.
My plan is to ignore Talia. I’m going to try, at least. I still don’t know how I’ll deal with the comments on Monday. About how “healthy” I look. How much I’ve changed. How I’m eating “sooooo much food.”
This is going to be hard. These last two months have been hard, though, and I made it through.
We’re going into the dining room in a few minutes, and for me, it’s not just a final meal. It’s time for me to fill out my Elsa snowflake, to tell the world (or at least the hospital) what I’m going to let go of. I’ve thought about it all week. I filled out snowflakes in my mind and crumpled them up. I’ve dreamed of snowflakes.
When I first came here, I couldn’t imagine my name being on that wall. I couldn’t imagine being someone who was actually leaving this place, someone who wanted to let go of her eating disorder.
But I do.
I wish I could tape more than one snowflake up there, because I have a whole whirling winter wonderland of things to let go of. I finally narrowed it down to one snowflake, with a design as unique as me: I let go of fear.
Fear of the world.
Fear of being unlovable.
Fear of weight.
Fear of taking up space.
Fear of being Riley.
It’s okay to be Riley.
I want to be Riley.
I am Riley.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I was diagnosed with an eating disorder when I was eighteen years old: anorexia nervosa with accompanying exercise addiction, much like Riley. My issues with food and self-esteem started much earlier than that, though. They started in seventh grade, when I started worrying about fitting in and began comparing my body to the bodies of my peers.
I was a lot like Riley. I worried that I wasn’t as “pretty as,” “smart as,” “athletic as,” “skinny as,” and on and on and on. When I started getting sick and losing weight, I got attention. I finally started feeling special. What years of illness and ultimately recovery taught me was that having an eating disorder is not what made me special. Yes, it got me attention at first, but it was the wrong kind of attention. It was attention that I received because people were worried about me. Through therapy and eating (yes, eating! Proper nutrition helps your brain function and helps you see reason and logic) and lots of learning and reflection, I started to realize that I didn’t have to be the smartest or the skinniest or the best at anything.
All I had to do was be myself. Being myself was good enough.
If you want to read more about my journey to recovery, along with tips for navigating your own struggles, I also wrote You Are Enough: Your Guide to Body Image and Eating Disorder Recovery.
Remember: recovery is possible. If you are dealing with body image issues or think you might have an eating disorder, the following two organizations are a great place to start:
National Eating Disorders Association:
nationaleatingdisorders.org/help-support
National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders:
anad.org/get-help
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book has been in my head for years. This book took me so many false starts to begin. In so many ways, Good Enough is me. Riley is me. So thank you, reader, for reading. Thank you for letting Riley’s story into your minds and your hearts. If you are struggling with an eating disorder yourself, thank you for fighting. Thank you for pushing back against the “never enough” culture we are steeped in. Thank you for being you.
My deepest gratitude to my editors, Jean Feiwel, Christine Barcellona, and Val Otarod, whose insight, intellect, and sensitivity helped to shape this book. Your feedback was always spot-on, and you helped make Riley and her peers into fully formed people.
Thank you to Brianne Johnson, my amazing agent, whose energy and enthusiasm for this business, for writing, and for story buoys me. Bri, you are such a great advocate, cheerleader, and friend, and I’m so glad to have you by my side.
So many thanks to the amazing team at Macmillan Children’s and Feiwel & Friends, who helped with so many aspects of this book. Kelsey Marrujo, you are a force of nature, and I’m so grateful to have you as my publicist. I am so honored to work with the talented Liz Dresner, who did the amazing cover and interior design, and with Romy Blümel, who did the cover art and perfectly captured the eyes that Riley feels are on her. More thanks to Melissa Zar, my amazing marketing talent; Jessica White, who proofread this manuscript; Bethany Reis, eagle-eye copy editor; Raymond Ernesto Colón, production manager; and Alexei Esikoff, managing editor.
No one should travel this publishing and writing journey alone, and I am incredi
bly lucky to have the Electric Eighteens group behind me for advice, laughs, and commiseration. Cindy Baldwin, Jenn Bishop, Cory Eckert, and Pam Styles read early drafts of this book and sent me valuable feedback. Sarah Hollowell did a much-appreciated sensitivity read on this manuscript, and I thank her for her time and valuable feedback. Rachel Simon was there every step of the way and is my sounding board, a cheerleader, and a friend. Katherine Applegate, thank you for your support and kindness.
A huge hug to my best friends, Kate Averett, Jena DiPinto, and Pam Styles, who are there every second of the day and night, listen to every neurotic thought in my head, and shower me with love. You girls are my forever sisters.
Thank you to the teachers and librarians who have embraced and recommended P.S. I Miss You, especially Erica Redner-Danzig. People like you, who encourage a culture of learning and literacy and help place the right book in a student’s hand, will help to change the world. Thank you to my readers, for embracing Evie and embracing me.
Thank you to my family for a lifetime of support, encouragement, and love. I am so lucky to have you—I don’t have enough pages to name you all but you are in my heart.
An immense note of gratitude to the staff of Walden Behavioral Care and Laurel Hill Inn, especially Linda McDonald and Tenley Prince. You helped me navigate my own recovery and I would not be here without all of you.
Above all, thank you to my amazing husband, Brian, and my daughters, Ellie and Lucy. I am so proud to be a writer, but I am even prouder to be a wife and a mom. Brian, you are my best friend and you never stop convincing me that I am enough. You three challenge me, support me, and fill my life with love, laughter, and silliness. Everything I went through led me here, and I couldn’t be more grateful.
ALSO BY JEN PETRO-ROY
P.S. I Miss You
You Are Enough
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jen Petro-Roy is a former teen librarian, an obsessive reader, a trivia fanatic, and an eating disorder survivor. She has written several books for young readers, including P.S. I Miss You, Good Enough, and the nonfiction self-help book You Are Enough. She lives with her husband and two young daughters in Massachusetts. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Day One: Monday
Day Two: Tuesday
Day Three: Wednesday
Day Four: Thursday
Day Five: Friday
Day Six: Saturday
Day Eight: Monday
Day Nine: Tuesday
Day Ten: Wednesday
Day Eleven: Thursday
Day Twelve: Friday
Day Thirteen: Saturday
Day Fifteen: Monday
Day Sixteen: Tuesday
Day Seventeen: Wednesday
Day Eighteen: Thursday
Day Nineteen: Friday
Day Twenty: Saturday
Day Twenty-One: Sunday
Day Twenty-Two: Monday
Day Twenty-Three: Tuesday
Day Twenty-Five: Thursday
Day Twenty-Six: Friday
Day Twenty-Nine: Monday
Day Thirty-One: Wednesday
Day Thirty-Two: Thursday
Day Thirty-Three: Friday
Day Thirty-Six: Monday
Day Thirty-Eight: Wednesday
Day Forty-One: Saturday
Day Forty-Two: Sunday
Day Forty-Three: Monday
Day Forty-Seven: Friday
Day Forty-Eight: Saturday
Day Forty-Nine: Sunday
Day Fifty: Monday
Day Fifty-One: Tuesday
Day Fifty-Two: Wednesday
Day Fifty-Three: Thursday
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
Also by Jen Petro-Roy
About the Author
Copyright
Copyright © 2019 by Jen Petro-Roy
A Feiwel and Friends Book
An imprint of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC
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First hardcover edition 2019
eBook edition 2019
eISBN 9781250123503