Here's the thing.

I don't believe in signs.

Not really.

I don't believe in shapes in the clouds, of tea leaves meaning something, or the number of whatever meaning this if what's going to happen to you.

I think some things have some validity, yes. But for the most part, you are who you are. Either because you choose to be, because something changed you this way, etc. Mostly because you are who you choose to be.

When it comes to telling the future. I don't believe in it for a minute. This is coming from someone that has dreams about things before they happen. Yeah. I know. I DO sound crazy. But that's life.

But sometimes... Sometimes things happen that you really can't ignore.

I've been feeling this urge to write lately. This deep urge to write something that actually matters. There's been this strange aching to do something that marks who I am. Maybe even marks a few others.

Today, it hit me. Here I am a person with plenty of experience with people with eating disorders. Here I am, this person that has ridden the razor thin edge of self-destruction. Here I am... sitting here... staring at three headlines on three different sites about eating disorders.

Well. Duh.

Here's something so close to my heart, so personal to me, and yet, I've never thought to write about it. To research and write the story.

THE story.

The story I hope will mean something to more than just me.

Why didn't I think of this before?