Editor’s note: This article contains details related to eating disorders and disordered eating behaviors.

For as long as I can remember, the thought of losing control, of other people taking advantage of my weak spots or being ridiculed by my environment have been fears that have kept me up at night.

Growing up as a member of the religious community of Jehovah’s Witnesses, I learned early on that the needs and goals of the group must be put before my own to avoid being shunned or exiled. This is exactly what happened to my parents and I when my father broke one of their unwritten rules and secretly pursued a law degree.

All of the sudden, people who used to be our friends and even our relatives cut us out of their lives. I was 10 years old, and I couldn’t comprehend what I’d done wrong to deserve such treatment. I didn’t realize what a profound impact this experience had on me, until I found myself knee-deep in an eating disorder.

Being an introspective and analytical person, I often try to make sense of my emotions, my interactions with other people and my own reactions to my surroundings, which is why I was desperate to find an explanation to my struggles with mental health.

I had just started high school when the first symptoms of low appetite, feelings of unworthiness, mental and physical fatigue and guilt from not being able to control my sensation of hunger began.

Having transferred from a different school, I felt very lonely as most of my classmates already knew each other from primary school. They made fun of me because of my religious beliefs that I upheld, despite having left Jehovah’s Witnesses, and I never measured up to my peers in sports because I wasn’t an athletic person and a little chubby.

At that point in my life, all I wanted was to belong and be accepted for who I was. I figured the only way to achieve that was by looking and acting like them.

So I started limiting my food intake and exercising more. At first, I saw positive changes I attributed to the alteration of my diet, which is partially why it was so hard for me to battle my eating disorder. After a while, though, I was constantly tired and often dizzy, and even the smallest inconveniences made me burst into tears.

Sometimes, I would cry over getting an A instead of an A+ on a test.

There was a voice in my head constantly telling me I was unworthy, weak and not dedicated enough if I gave in to feelings of hunger or if I was too tired to go for a third run in one day. Listening to that voice gave me a feeling of being in control; whereas; neglecting it had the opposite effect.

Looking back, I see a pattern that I couldn’t observe at the time.

In a sense, my eating disorder was caused by my fear of losing control. My behavior was not healthy and very self-destructive, but it shows the drastic means people resort to if they’re desperate. I was desperate for acceptance, belonging, kindness and love, and I would have gone to any length to get it.

It took me a long time to acknowledge I needed help and that I couldn’t deal with the situation by myself. Even then, it wasn’t me but my dad who decided to consult a therapist. I didn’t believe talking to someone else about my problems would help me, so I sabotaged the treatment to the best of my ability by lying about my feelings.

For over a year, I visited her for sessions once a month, but nothing changed. I was unwilling to accept support because I believed asking for help was admitting weakness and giving up control — both being conditions that scared the hell out of me and still do.

To this day, I still don’t know how I was able to overrule the voice in my head haunting me or what made me understand that my self-worth and my value aren’t reflected by other people’s acceptance and opinion of me. But I did.

My childhood and early youth aren’t the parts of my life that I love remembering, but they’ve taught me a lot about life and people. They have shaped the person I am today into someone who walks on her own path and doesn’t care what other people think. Someone who has learned the hard way that you cannot make people like or even accept you no matter how hard you try. And most importantly, someone who knows her own mental and physical health are too valuable to be sacrificed for other people’s sake.

You will not be everyone’s cup of tea. Not every person will kiss the floor you walk on, and not everyone will want to be your friend or even be associated with you — and that’s okay. You were not put on this earth to please other people but to live the life you desire and deserve.

So please do not change yourself to fit in — not with a religious group, not with peers, not with your family. Embrace your differences and your individuality. And trust me, people will be drawn to you like a moth to the flame.

If you or someone you know is having a mental health emergency, the Counseling Center can be reached 24 hours a day at 919-515-2423. If you are in a crisis situation and need immediate help, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 988. In the case of a life-threatening emergency, call 911.

The Counseling Center’s website offers free online screenings, a plethora of self-help resources regarding mental health and wellness concerns and a comprehensive list of campus services available for those who need guidance. To view an exhaustive list, visit counseling.dasa.ncsu.edu/resources.

If you’re seeking professional counseling or other mental health services on campus, visit the Counseling Center’s Getting Started page to complete paperwork, set up an appointment and more.

If you are struggling with an eating disorder or negative body image, you are not alone. Healing EveryBODY is a NC State club dedicated to creating a supportive space for individuals working to heal their relationship with food and body image, as well as preparing students to serve as compassionate and effective allies to those struggling with eating disorders.

Connect with Healing EveryBODY here through their website.