Battling shame, fear of change, and brewing feelings of self-disgust

For years, I couldn’t look in the mirror without feeling disgust. I truly believed I was ugly.

But just the other day, I put on makeup for the first time in years — and for a moment, I felt pretty. I almost smiled.

At 27, after undergoing psychological testing, I realized just how much my perception of myself had controlled every aspect of my life — including my dream of becoming a content creator.

Years of battling body dysmorphia, binge eating, and anorexia had shaped the way I saw myself and treated my body.

Even though fear gripped me — even though part of me resisted — I knew I needed to change.

I’m writing this blog post not only to take the next step in my own healing journey and towards a healthier relationship with food and my body, but also to help others do the same.

Understanding the Struggles: Body Dysmorphia, Binge Eating & Anorexia

Something I struggled with most when dealing with body dysmorphia was my self-image.

I truly believed I was ugly, as if it were a fact — like there was nothing redeeming about my appearance.

Along with that, I also constantly thought I was fat or had “man boobs,” even when I was incredibly skinny.

I remember one time in 8th grade, sitting at lunch, feeling so anxious about eating that I just didn’t.

When I started noticing the weight loss, I began skipping meals regularly.

That was when I developed anorexia nervosa, an eating disorder marked by extreme food restriction and an intense fear of gaining weight — even when you’re underweight.

Many people struggle with body dysmorphia, binge eating, or anorexia without even knowing what they are. Or maybe you’ve never heard of them before.

To start, body dysmorphic disorder (BDD) is a mental health condition where a person becomes obsessed with perceived flaws in their appearance — flaws that may be minor or even nonexistent.

For years, I couldn’t see myself clearly. It wasn’t until I turned 26 that I could finally look in the mirror and recognize my own attractiveness.

I’ll never forget the day my friend Dani — who is undeniably beautiful — called me pretty.

I was so shocked that I didn’t know how to respond.

I genuinely couldn’t believe it.

But my struggles with self-image didn’t stop at how I saw myself in the mirror.

In my early 20s, I started gaining a lot of weight because I was eating excessively — far beyond just having a big appetite.

My mom thought my medication was to blame, and while it probably played a role, the real reason was binge eating disorder (BED).

BED is characterized by episodes of eating large amounts of food in a short period of time, often feeling completely out of control.

I would eat to the point of physical pain — even until I threw up.

All of this shaped how I saw myself in relationships — I was always ‘the ugly, fat friend.’

It completely shattered my self-confidence and self-esteem.

I even held myself back from pursuing my dream of being a content creator because I could never see myself as the good, worthy person I truly was.

After starting antidepressants and slowly coming back to myself, I realized that so much of my low self-confidence and negative body image had stemmed from depression.

For years, depression affected me — partly because I didn’t yet know I was developing schizoaffective disorder, and partly from the deep sadness I carried since I was 14.

Once my brain chemistry stabilized, everything changed.

I could finally take a selfie or review footage of myself without feeling disgust.

I saw my worth as my mind and emotions became more balanced.

My perfectionism loosened its grip, and the harsh inner critic quieted down. In its place, self-compassion grew.

I recognized just how talented I am — as a creator, a writer, and an artist.

I wore many hats, and for the first time in a long time, I could actually see and appreciate them.

The Turning Point — Realizing Change Was Necessary

I have to be completely honest and say that I haven’t experienced a complete mental shift or health scare or conversation that pushed me to want to change.

I just know I can’t be in this same state for the rest of my life.

My sisters can eat food at a slow pace and I tend to binge overall and act on impulse.

I don’t really want to be that person anymore even though a part of me wants to stay where I am comfortable.

I’ve had a hard time finding balance with food, and that causes me to have a very unhealthy relationship with the thing that is supposed to give me nourishment and energy.

I do have prediabetes because of my weight and health habits, and I used to be scared I would develop diabetes at any moment.

But it’s very important that you address these issues with care and be mindful.

Take your time if you can, change happens with one small step at a time.

Healing — Building a Healthier Relationship with Food and Your Body

One of the biggest challenges I’ve faced with body image was learning to accept the body I’m in — right now, as it is.

Whether I’m big or small, I’ve had to remind myself that I am beautiful simply because I am human.

Existing, breathing, living — that alone makes me worthy of love and appreciation.

Another big lesson I had to learn was the difference between feeling full and feeling satisfied.

Both are signals that you don’t need more food, but satisfaction means that your emotional and physical needs were both met by the meal.

That realization changed the way I eat.

I also had to confront and unlearn the cruel self-talk that had become second nature — putting myself down, comparing myself to others, and constantly labeling myself as ugly or worthless.

I’m still working on being kind to myself, but I’ve made so much progress.

Years of therapy have helped me become more self-reflective and self-compassionate.

Talking to my friends and family about my insecurities has been healing, too — they became the voices that helped drown out the negativity.

And slowly, I became that supportive voice for myself.

I’m still in the early stages of becoming a healthier person, both mentally and physically.

But I’ve been building habits that support me: weekly therapy, journaling, practicing intuitive eating, and having go-to meals that help me stay consistent.

Emotionally, I’ve found healing in meditation, journaling, and simple rituals to let go of negative energy or unwanted habits.

Sometimes, I’ll talk to myself aloud or in my head when I need to process feelings.

If journaling doesn’t feel right at the moment, I’ll even use voice memos — it helps more than you’d think.

I’m still learning to appreciate my body as it is now.

But, like I said earlier — everyone is beautiful simply because they are alive.

Because they are here.

And today, I can look at myself in the mirror without feeling disgusted or avoiding eye contact.

That alone is a huge step forward.

It’s partly because I’m no longer in a deep depression, but it’s also the result of the work I’ve put in — and I still have more to do, and that’s okay.

Lessons Learned — What Helped Me Most

Nowadays, I am approaching food with more awareness instead of wanting to control everything pertaining to how, what, and when I consume it.

Before, I didn't really pay attention to how much I was eating, and if I did I would feel very guilty about eating unbalanced meals.

Now, I see each meal as a signal of each passing time of the day, when I fill up on something for my body to use as energy, and a time to really decompress and enjoy what I am consuming for a bit.

My goal is to generally eat more balanced meals; have a carb, a protein, and a veggie.

I’m working toward feeling stronger and more at home in my body.

I also want to get more physical activity — like yoga and light resistance training since I have spent the last several months being very sedentary.

I am trying to be less reactive when it comes to choosing and eating food too.

Overall, I have learned that my relationship with food is often something that grows and changes with me, especially as I am recovering from an ED.

I have also learned to be more forgiving to myself.

It’s okay if I have a mishap, or don’t meet my goals right away.

What’s most important is noticing how much effort I am putting in, and if I happen to eat more than I should or choose something that is more for comfort than nutrients, my progress isn’t erased nor am I suddenly going to go back to before I started making changes.

The first time I realized my relationship with food was changing was when I noticed I had a general routine for when I would eat my main meals.

Before, when I ate was sporadic and oftentimes I didn't really portion out food very well.

But now, I normally wake up and go to the bathroom.

Eat my breakfast, then 3–5 hours later I have my lunch.

At around 8–10pm I do the dishes and cook my dinner as I am doing my nightly chores.

I eat my dinner and watch one of my comfort influencers, and then I go to bed.

For anyone who feels trapped in a cycle, know this: just being aware of the areas you want to improve and being reflective is step one toward becoming a healthier person.

Conclusion — Embracing Strength After Struggle

Maybe your version of 1% looks different — like drinking one more glass of water than soda — and slowly easing out the unhealthy habit with a better one.

Also, look into intuitive eating — it helped me understand the difference between being full and being satisfied.

On my journey, I have been following a particular influencer who looked like me being confident.

Mac Does it challenged how I could show up in the world while being bigger and queer with how unapologetic he was with presenting himself.

Another influencer that really helped shift my perception of being able to be seen and heard as I am in the world is Sierra Ann.

She’s plus size, and doesn’t shy away from reclaiming the word “fat”.

She’s a girl’s girl and has someone who truly loves her for who she is, another thing that really opened my eyes to it being possible to be accepted and loved as I am.

Both of them are proof that people like us are allowed, and needed, in the spaces we exist in.

There will be moments when you’re thriving, times when you’re struggling, and periods of calm in between.

So, I am sharing this all gently, knowing that everyone's relationship with food and recovery is different.

What I’m learning is always evolving — and with that, becoming myself feels more real.

Growth is ongoing — and completely possible for you. The hardest part is simply beginning.

I invite you to take a moment to reflect on where you are with your relationship with food.

Are there any patterns or concerns?

Any wins, no matter how small?

If you notice progress, write it down. Set some small goals.

And as always, if you’re considering major changes to your health or diet, please consult with a doctor or therapist.

New beginnings always have their dawns.

🌺 Be a flower that blooms in darkness.

Follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bloomandether/?hl=en

If this resonated, follow along on Substack — where I write slowly, honestly, and without pretending to have it all figured out: https://substack.com/@bloomandether

If you’re a wellness or spiritual brand looking for gentle, reflective blog writing, I’d love to collaborate!
Connect with me:

📩hello.bloomandether@gmail.com

A reflection on losing and rediscovering the desire to write. Through seasons of doubt, distance, and return, this piece explores how creativity often waits patiently for us to come back to it.

Movement I: The First Spark

On August 5th, 2021, I bought a pack of steno notepads and used a red-covered one to start planning the initial foundation of what was then called Ty’s 3rd Eye.

I remember consciously creating it as something my younger self needed — the version of me with low self-esteem and self-worth, who lacked confidence and was afraid to be fully seen.

I wanted to make a space where I could be authentically myself, express what I hadn’t yet learned how to say out loud, and eventually share it with others exploring their identities and alternative ways of seeing the world.

At the time, I was 21. I remember feeling like I had just “woken up” — like I had reached a point where I was finally self-aware enough to make conscious choices about my life, even if I didn’t yet know what to do with that awareness.

Writing has always been something I returned to.

When I was younger, my mom used to make me write three pages in a journal when I did something wrong.

It was her way of helping me process my emotions, because I struggled to explain the thoughts behind my actions out loud.

Writing became how I slowed myself down.

How I chose my words carefully.

How I translated feeling into something I could understand.

Looking back now at 27, I can see that while I had already lived through a lot, I didn’t yet have the emotional depth — or the time — to let those experiences brew into language.

My perspective was still new.

I had survived things I hadn’t yet reflected on.

In many ways, I wanted blogging to help me find my identity as a queer Black man.

I hadn’t fully allowed myself to express who I was, mostly out of fear — fear of judgment, misunderstanding, of being too much or not enough all at once.

Somewhere in the five years of Bloom & Ether’s incubation, I realized that the version of me writing this blog emerged from a quiet but urgent need for things to change.

As my therapist once told me, frustration is often the catalyst for change.

With my self-confidence worn thin, I began using that restlessness — the desire for more, the exhaustion of staying where I was, even fear — to take small, deliberate steps forward.

In that way, the foundation of this brand was slowly placed.

I am writing this initial blog as an ode to self — the version of me that no longer exists. The goal of this space is to document the creation of Bloom & Ether and invite you to walk alongside me as this dream continues to take shape.

Movement II: The Intrusion

My days had been consumed by Target for years, consisting of working as a guest advocate.

It was something I struggled with as I adjusted to medication and lived with a constant undercurrent of anxiety.

For nearly three years, I wasn’t creating much. I was surviving — existing just enough to make it through another day.

When I was inpatient at Sheppard Pratt in 2022, I was given a composition notebook and used it to document my time there.

I remember realizing that I still had an unbridled flow of thoughts — I nearly filled the notebook in three weeks — and also understanding that this state would likely shift once I stabilized on medication.

What I didn’t know then was that I would eventually reclaim that creative flow in a more grounded way.

I don’t remember much from that period.

I only know that I was struggling with severe depression, waiting for my antidepressants to begin working.

The creativity I regained feels different.

More mature.

I am able to write from a perspective that holds nuance, tenderness, and reflection.

When it comes to my drawings, I found myself able to create a piece — later the cornerstone of my brand — rooted in a desire for liberation from the darker things that consume us, and for temperance over the self.

Experiencing that creative focus again — the quiet intensity when inspiration takes hold — hadn’t happened in a long time.

I wasn’t expecting it, and I feared it might never return.

Being on the beach at Ocean City in April solidified how meaningful that moment was.

It’s a day I return to often in my mind, and one I hope to revisit in the next year or two.

Movement III: The Return

In the beginning, I expected my business to support me financially within a specific time period, and I clung to it as identity and salvation.

I created it from burnout and desperation for something beyond retail and food service.

Now, I see it as an extension of myself — something I allow to grow at its own pace.

I spent the last 5 years of my life in the same room.

I have a tiny room, and originally slept on a couch but later got a mattress.

The best part of my room are the bay windows, and the desk I have sitting in front of the windows.

When I moved into this house with my family, I had intentions of moving out soon after to get my own place.

But, as it turned out I got diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder and that completely derailed the next 4 years of my life.

I used to be a very negative person.

I would catastrophize and ruminate, and it took 3 years for me to completely stabilize on my medications.

One of my voices was also very self deprecating.

I was very lonely and restless too.

I would write poetry to expel the longing and sadness that encapsulated my existence at the time.

I also journaled a lot and went on walks to calm the intense anxiety I had.

I wrote more so to comfort myself.

Like by putting my feeling and thoughts on paper would make it not hurt as much.

Later, I realized that I wanted to create my own business to build a community of people experiencing the same turmoil and intersectionalities I was.

I spent 2 of the 5 years not creating.

Depression took its hold on me, and my time was mainly spent sleeping and scrolling on Instagram.

It wasn't until I was able to get on an antidepressant and start experiencing some of its effects that I made the choice to really push through the “I don’t want to” phase I was in and really take control of the things I did on a day-to-day basis.

I would tell myself to just finish one thing to completion, and snowball from there.

I had to ignore the voice in my head that didn’t want to do anything, and I really just had to push myself to be consistent with one habit.

That was walking my sister’s dog Menace for several months.

Once I was breaking from the “I don’t want to” phase, I started really focusing on what I wanted to do career wise.

That’s where I landed on starting a business.

I am disabled and neurodivergent, and I never quite fit into hustle culture.

I have learned that I normally complete tasks right away, when I have had ample rest.

If I can do something as soon as possible, I normally do.

It just took me getting out of the depression slump I was in to realize that.

I also don’t force myself to constantly be doing something.

During those three years on my medication, my creativity slowly began to fade and I had assumed that it wouldn't come back.

I also lost my ability to have a stream of consistent written flow.

I don’t remember having any specific thoughts about losing this flow, I just accepted it as my reality.

On April of 2025, I went to Ocean City with my family.

On the beach that day, I decided to draw.

I remember it being a bit chilly, and there was barely any people around.

But there was plenty of sun.

I think I was talking to my mother, and she had decided to sunbathe or read.

I had my iPad with me — where I would use procreate to draw.

That’s when suddenly, after a long period of experiencing a block to my creativity, ideas for a comic series popped into my head.

I had an idea for a piece that depicted a snake — representing shame and mental illness, wrapping around the torso of a character I was developing, symbolizing the liberation from these vices.

As the spark of creativity flowed through me, I remember I felt this high, and a bubbly sensation in my body.

I was working on this idea sporadically as we were at the beach, then the board walk, and then in the car ride home.

I wrote down all the ideas I had in google docs and my notes app.

Creativity feels the same, a sudden spark and a flow of ideas that I have to capture before I lose it.

I would say now I feel more grounded, and the bubbly sensation isn’t really common now that I am more mentally stable.

Looking back, the illustration I created became the first light of brand I had been developing for years.

The snake wrapping around the torso of whom I soon drew as a black trans person encapsulates the target audience I have: people who have felt unseen by mainstream wellness content because it wasn't made for or by someone like them.

Also, I explored in the script for the comic self actualization.

Being that the black trans character I created would soon find the snake would be his familiar of sorts, but it began as an obstacle or something controlling him, but soon loosens its grip and walks beside him.

The duality I had for the snake would ultimately symbolize the progression we go through when healing our identity or mental ailments.

I still live in that room. But I am not the same person who lay in it, longing for the day I would be at a place I am proud to be in.

Movement IV: What Bloom & Ether Is

I started writing this blog in mid January. It’s now February 12th, a day after my 27th birthday.

In two weeks, I have been through a lot mentally and emotionally.

I began to feel detached from bringing Bloom & Ether to life — after all these years — and I stopped working on this blog.

A major reason I began to have doubts was going a week without my meds for the first time in a year. I felt I couldn’t completely trust my judgment.

Now, I am returning — and that’s an embodiment of what Bloom & Ether is: a practice of coming back to a sanctuary, a healing space where quiet confidence blossoms, navigating the messy, beautiful, often non-linear journey of healing, especially for those who don’t feel they belong.

I have spent the past month without money, my life in major transition.

I officially left a draining job I was trying to leave for a year, waiting on logistics and slow systems, while living in an unstable home environment.

I have been tending my life as if it is a garden — approaching it with patience and presence over the “machine-like” pursuit of maximum efficiency, productivity, and perfection.

From the beginning, I saw Bloom & Ether as a community. I deeply desired to build one.

I wrote my first unpublished blog in October 2021. At that time, I had just moved to a different county in Maryland, and my schizoaffective symptoms were coming to a head.

Through the ten or so blogs written over five years, I now see my writing practice as both spiritual and psychological.

I unload my mind, explore identity, beliefs, and values, while investigating my status as a witch.

Presently, Bloom & Ether serves as an archive for becoming.

Fundamentally, it is a place where mental health and mysticism coexist without romanticization.

I have changed so much in my 20s. This decade is where change is okay — even necessary — and my brand reflects that.

I no longer expect my brand to save me. I created it from burnout and desperation for something beyond retail and food service.

Now, Bloom & Ether is that garden — something I will tend while building another career to support my independence.

This framing is built on sustainability and slow growth, values that create longevity and eventual success.

Movement V: The Invitation

For those who have made it to the end of my first officially published blog — thank you.

Once this piece is out in the world, it will slowly find those who resonate with tending an idea or project through years of uncertainty and change.

The desire to share and to find others who relate to this precarity is what keeps me going — hoping my vision comes to life.

Despite everything I have been through, I have learned that hope is something you create.

As a Black and queer person, I exist because those before me resisted through joy and hope.

I share my story because of the millions who kept going.

I wish to offer authenticity, integrity, honesty, and my own uniqueness — something I am still learning to embrace.

I do not promise answers, but instead a record of presence and returning.

New beginnings always have their dawns.

🌺 Be a flower that blooms in darkness.

Follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bloomandether/?hl=en

If this resonated, follow along on Substack — where I write slowly, honestly, and without pretending to have it all figured out: https://substack.com/@bloomandether

If you’re a wellness or spiritual brand looking for gentle, reflective blog writing, I’d love to collaborate!
Connect with me:

📩hello.bloomandether@gmail.com