My dearest wee bee,

On the eve of my “rebirth day” (or, as mummie’s friend recently called it, my “no-more-ED day”), I am struck by the differences between my life six years ago, and my life today, at this very moment.

Six years ago I went to bed on Valentine’s Day, not to dream sweet dreams, but rather stuck in the middle of a nightmare. I would never have admitted it out loud at the time, but my ultimate fear was that ED was winning. And in fact, having eaten basically nothing all day on Thursday February 14th, 2008, I would have to say that ED’s voice was at its strongest that day.

Somewhere, somehow, my voice fought back. “I’m ready to eat more today,” it rang out, clear as day, when I woke up on February 15th, 2008.

And so, with those six words, I was reborn. My old life gone, and a new life ready to begin.

It is fascinating to me that in our fast-paced, constantly-in-motion society we tend to be so resistant to change. We hang on, instead of learning to let go.

Change is different. Change is scary. Change means losing what we have. But we seem to have forgotten that it is only in losing what we have, in letting go of the past, that we make room for the new. We can’t move forward if we are holding onto the baggage from our past. We can’t face into the sun if we are focused on the shadows at our backs.

And so, Zoe, I say to you: Dare to be a Phoenix.

Be resilient. Rise up, over and over and over again, from the ashes. Know that life is a series of gains and losses and gains, again. Make mistakes and wear them proudly, as badges of honour, “proud flesh”, proof that you are, in the midst of fear, courageous still.

Dare to be a Phoenix.

Delight in the opportunity to begin life anew.

Draw strength from the simple truth that you can always rise up, again, no matter what adversity has come across your door.

Six years ago I would never have conceived of the possibility of you.. And yet, here you are, an absolute joy-full reality. A constant reminder to me that life always has some new surprise waiting for us, once we let go of all the heavy burdens of the past. It might not be what we’re expecting; in fact, it’s usually something much more brilliant and magnificent than we could ever have imagined.

Dare to be a Phoenix, Zoe Bee. And wear your yellow and black feathers proudly.

I know I do.