February 22nd – 28th is National Eating Disorder Awareness Week. 

Laura Morsman Photography has been Austin Moms Blog’s official photographer for more than a year and a half so we’ve learned a lot about her during this time. Nothing shocked us more than learning that she struggled with an eating disorder. How could this confident, outgoing, BEAUTIFUL person have battled such a disease? But the truth is that she did. This is Laura’s story.

When I moved from Kansas City to Texas, I never realized the impact that move and separation would have on me. Here was my chance to start from scratch. I had recently gone through a divorce when I was 22 and reconnected with my first love, (we’re talking high school love) and now husband John. All of that was a pretty immediate, quick, and positive change, but one aspect I underestimated was the past and person I thought I left behind. The nitty gritty and not so pretty years of my life that were probably the hardest I may endure, I assumed were long gone and never to be seen again. In moving to Texas I had the chance leave behind my identity that many of my past friends, family, team mates and teachers remembered me by throughout my middle and high school years. My eating disorder.

I was a wild and fancy-free, home-schooled kid in the midwest. Second oldest of 4 at the time, I was the only girl amongst my siblings and loved it that way. I was independent, LOUD, loved my free time after school to paint, ride horses, and was always on adventures outdoors. It wasn’t until my father underwent an emergency brain surgery when I was 11 that life’s reality abruptly forced a perspective of maturity to replace me and my brother’s childhood innocence. The world I had been living in and creating was darkened, and my adventurous freedom was met with a quick ending. A brain tumor made of the strep virus had formed on the frontal lobe of my father’s brain and was now the size of a softball. With the mass growing over many months unknowingly, it was only when my parents were vacationing that it had reached it’s capacity and had started to impair dad’s speech, ability to focus or stand any longer. He was flown home and immediately rushed into surgery, 24 hours more and it would have taken his life.

In the few years following his surgery life took a 180 degree turn. With an in-home nurse now, the loss of his job, losing our home, and the dad we once knew, I could start to feel my once cushioned and planned life slipping from my fingers. Seeing my mother in pain and at a total loss for what the next step may be immediately triggered the “savior” role in me to kick into rescue mode and suddenly it was now my duty to make sure we ALL got through this in one piece. I was never a daddy’s girl, or even put him on a pedestal in my life, but I did know that he loved his job and his role as a leader. He prided himself on his academic achievements. As a child witnessing his despair and each dream he worked so hard for being plucked away from him one by one, it snapped me into a realization that many don’t reach until they walk through that pain themselves. For myself it was when I reached 14, almost 3 years after the initial surgery, realizing that life isn’t promised to be wonderful or secure for everyone, and I was just dealt my reality card.

I was nannying a friend’s child when she came home and sat me down gently. She gave me a pamphlet for a counseling practice, and encouraged me to get help. I hadn’t realized my secret had been noticed and then reflected on how friends never came over to hang out anymore, I got concerned glares when I went shopping, and all I found that I was interested in was doing squats and walking miles on end. I had been hiding behind a shield of absolute control, emotional numbness, obsessive patterns, and the ultimate outward perfection. I was stick thin, emaciated, I was anorexic. At 81 pounds and 5’8, I was skeletal. I had lost 50% of my hair at this point, my gums had recessed so much from the acid of the one green apple I ate as my total daily intake, my blood was now diluted from the amount of water I drank to get rid of calories, and I had a 30 day life expectancy. My mother took me to the Dr.’s office only to find that I had a chance of sterilization from the lack of nutrients during my development, probable osteoporosis and impending organ failure. The doctor gave me 2 weeks to add nutrients to my diet or I would be hospitalized and fed with assistance.

Ironically at the time, I was hooked on those shows where people were either in rehab or had interventions, and one quote at the end of every episode would always say “I will beat this, I won’t let it beat me”. It was when I gave the disease a personality, acknowledged it as an opponent trying to take my life away, it clicked that I had allowed my true identity along with the pain that it endured in my childhood, to hide and protect itself from further trauma. With my double zero {00} workout pants and 4 layers of fleece jackets, I took that pamphlet and started seeing the therapist that walked with me for 5 years through this battle. I will never forget my therapist Kori. Someone in my life who had the strength to save ME. Someone who saw my worth, my value, and also acknowledged my pain’s validity when I wouldn’t allow myself to feel it. She took the weight of what I thought I owed my parents for their life challenges and replaced it with teaching me to allow myself to live free of guilt or responsibility for their pains or losses. I needed a Kori in my life, I needed someone to walk me through the grey areas that the 11 year old me never deciphered or could ever explain.

My road with anorexia will be continual and lasting. I have to check myself every day. There are seasons in life that cause a “relapse” mentality when things get overwhelming or I feel that sense of losing control of my environment, or even the emotional highs of successes. From my ongoing recovery came incredible things and the grit to stand in who I am today and a brokenness to accept those being challenged in their own ways. I never imagined owning my own business at 24, or having the strength to create the life I always wanted. I have to be honest that the love and acknowledgement my business brings me on a daily basis brings tears to my eyes continually. I shouldn’t have been here with where I was 10 years ago. The love I have for people now since going through this isn’t from admiration in their stature or successes in life anymore, but for the story they have that I don’t know yet. To know they have endured or are overcoming life experiences even now, at any age, because we are all right there with them, and we all deserve that relational and accepting connection.

My dad, “Joe”, is now thriving, a better athlete than I will ever be, and on the board of brain trauma and injury in Kansas City in order to empower and encourage those who have experienced similar traumas. He and my mother adopted two beautiful children from Ethiopia 8 years ago who are the light of our lives and keep us young and thoroughly inspired. I continually mentor those who reach out for eating disorder relating and encouragement and welcome any to reach out as well. Many times it’s friends and family who want to know what to say or how to help during such a hard and emotional time. Eating disorders are incredibly dynamic, can occur in anyone, and manifest in so many forms and fashions. It is always helpful to reach out for an educated perspective when walking a friend or loved one to seek help and health.

Laura Morsman Photography’s infancy started the year I sought help for my eating disorder 10 years ago when I would encourage other’s in my therapy groups to let me help them see their true beauty in how other’s see them. It was from that mentality and positive force that it is what where we are today. Loving people and telling their stories.

Much Love,

Laura Churchill
www.lauramorsmanphotography.com