As I wrote in my first post after my return, I started writing Girl Eat again after watching a woman in my close friend circle succumb, over and over again, to an eating disorder, a voice inside her head that directed her not to eat, to starve, to restrict herself.
As the rest of my friends and I enjoyed brunch, my sweet, beautiful friend picked at a salad, and ate nuts out of a giant cookie, leaving the rest of the cookie goodness for the trash.
Watching her throw out the absolutely best part of a cookie and suffer in silence had a great impact on me over time.
And, each of the times we spent with her led to the inevitable question:
Should we say something?
Should it be us, or someone in her family? Maybe her husband?
How do we say something?
Together, or is that too intimidating? Should it be one of us, or a couple of us?
When should we say something? Should we plan ahead for that conversation? Should we talk to her now?
The questions go on and on. So do the days. But, we do not say anything.
This morning, I heard from one of my girlfriends that she picked up the phone last night and called her. She told her how worried we all were and that she did not want to offend her. She told her we were sorry. She told her she was beautiful and she wanted to see her happy. We all did.
I don’t know if that will do anything.
I don’t know if that hurt.
I don’t know if that helped.
I don’t know if it was the right thing to do.
But, today, it feels right. It definitely feels better than not saying anything at all. And, I know that now I will have the courage to say something, too.