This website is the space I created for documenting my path towards a larger-than-life existence.
I spent over a decade trying to make myself small, trying to contort myself into shapes that would be satisfying for everyone but me. When I was diagnosed with anorexia in 2016, I embarked on a journey to learn how to take up more space. Since then, I married the love of my life, bought 5-acres in the woods and started building our dream homestead, and traveled around the country. I have a lot of stories to share, and this is where I hope to share them.
I’m currently writing a book about my eating disorder recovery and publishing short memoir-inspired pieces in magazines and newspapers around the world.
Click the stack in the top left corner to navigate to my blog and read my latest post!
Diet talk. Early in my recovery, it was the phrase that changed everything.
Back then, getting food into my mouth felt like a Herculean feat. Eating in front of or with people was horrific enough — OMG I have to acknowledge publicly that I, a fat-ish person, eats! The shame! — but what made being around other people even worse was that the self-depreciating way everyone else talked about food.
The universe lets you know when you’re on the right path or when you’ve been led astray. It gives you what you need when you need it, no matter if you are able to realize yourself what you need at any given moment.
It is possible to have a healthy relationship with exercise that doesn’t involve self-hatred or overdoing it, but I don’t have that yet. My relationship with exercise is still fraught, and I have to be really careful not to tumble down the rabbit hole of obsessive/compulsive patterns around it.
I’ve taken a bazillion transformation photos over the years during the years I spent plagued by anorexia. Here are some before and after photos, but not the kind you’re used to
When I booked a room in the Pura Vida Hostel in Tamarindo, Costa Rica, I’d never stayed in a hostel before. Seven days there taught me that opening yourself up to genuine interactions with strangers teaches you more about yourself than about the people you meet.
The name Morgan means dwells by the bright sea.
The first time a pair of pants made me hate myself I was twelve years old.
They were scrappy and adventurous and had incredibly low standards of living, so saving money by camping on a mountainside all summer seemed like a great idea.