Page 21 of The Daredevil

That was very thoughtful of you.Your concern for me and the growth of my blog is appreciated, but I prefer to keep things the way they are.

I believe my travel blog is successful because I’ve tailored it to my readers’ expectations. My fans love its authenticity. That’s important to me and all my clients, including NewYou Beauty.I’m not interested in the retail aspect of NYB, though I know it’s very important. There are experts who can better assist in that area, but if you’re interested, go for it.

I’ll stay in my lane and concentrate on what I came here to do. If NYB believes otherwise, then perhaps my contribution won’t be a good fit.

I take my job seriously, and I care about my clients and readers. For that reason, I have to stay true to what I’m good at—portraying products in the most authentic and beautiful way that will attract loyal customers.

Best Regards,

Michelle

Leaning back in my chair, I read the email over once more and hit send. No matter how angry I was with Fiona, I was a professional and dealt with my issues like an adult. I prayed she would too. My email served two purposes. One was to let Fiona know she shouldn’t assume to know what I wanted. The other reason showed the CEO and Becca where I stood. No one pushed me around. I’d dealt with that attitude early in my career when I worked as a newsroom journalist and when I was a beauty pageant contestant. People assumed they knew what was best for me.

But no one could know because I was still trying to figure that out myself. Fiona was used to pushing people around and having things her way, but I wasn’t going to tolerate that.

People like her had made my life hell, especially during my pageant years. Those girls and their moms had been ruthless. I didn’t have friends. They all considered me the enemy because I had won so many titles ranging from Little Miss Lovely, Young Miss Adorable, Junior Miss Lovely, to Miss Teen Glam many times. I had left that drama behind me.

Drama created unnecessary stress. Who needed that in their life?

Fiona and I had distinct personalities and different styles. Therefore, what we brought to the table were reflections of us that were unique. At least that was my perspective, anyway.

I refused to give into Fiona’s tantrums. A few years ago, she started rumors about my blog being written by someone else, then claimed the travel images were bought from a photographer—whom she claimed to know. I only used images I’d taken personally, or those given to me by clients with permission to publish. It all started when one of my readers commented on Fiona’s blog post, suggesting that others check out my blog for travel ideas. It was an innocent comment that pissed her off enough to make me a target. It took a month for things to settle down after I threatened her with a letter from my lawyer—which had cost me money and time.

She didn’t have my permission to come into my life and rearrange it as though I reported to her. The nerve.

A headache throbbed in my temple. So much for not letting her bother me. Too late for that. Stress opened the door to many things, and I could almost feel the claws of the monster reaching for me. They felt like a cold chill forming at the base of my spine, travelling up and around to my stomach like frigid fingers that made my body tense. This monster fed on anxiety, and I’d been experiencing a lot of it.

Right now, that monster wanted me to eat a big fat meal that would make me feel wonderful one second and disgusting and unworthy the next. It would force me to purge and then spend hours and hours working out, only to binge again. That had been my dark past, and it had taken me a long time with the doctors to push that monster into the closet.

I could see the old me trying to fight the new me who knew better. I stood on the edge of a dark past and an unsteady future. All it took was one step over, and I’d return to that place where food was a disease that crippled my body and mind.

How could food be bad for you? There were hungry people all over the world. Bulimia was a dangerous monster that played with my psyche. Though I had locked it up, an unhealthy relationship and a difficult breakup had weakened the lock. And now, with the stress from Fiona, I could hear the doorknob turning, opening . . .

Go eat that sandwich. Get the slice of pizza and the bag of chips. They’ll make you feel better. They’ll fill the void in you. Then you can go work out and burn off all the calories. Don’t let yourself feel empty and lonely.

My body trembled with anger and disappointment in myself for letting it rear its miserable head.

Shut up! Go away!

Clenching my fists, I squeezed my eyes shut and imagined slamming that closet door tight. I stepped toward the future, even if it was uncertain. I was still trying to heal, and that was okay. Healing took time, energy, and patience. I wasn’t going back to the doctor. That would mean I had failed.

You’re a failure.You need me,I heard the monster say.

In my mind, I placed another lock on the closet door.

My phone rang and snapped me back to the present moment. The name flashing on my lock screen should have comforted me, but it only added another layer of anxiety.

I picked up the call. “Hi, Mom.”

“Sweetie! How are you? I assume you got to Iceland safely? How’s the food over there?”

I didn’t want to hear the word “food” right now. I knew my mom loved me and meant well, but she never really understood me, which had left a wedge between us.

I resented her for not being there for me when I needed her. She had never listened to my needs and didn’t even know I had an eating disorder until I was eighteen. Even then, she didn’t know the extent of it. I stopped telling her because she had selective hearing. No one wanted to hear that their daughter was flawed. A flawed daughter didn’t win beauty contests. So I pretended to be the perfect daughter when I was really dying on the inside.

“Everything is fine, Mom. I’m just settling in. Everything good with you and Charles?”

Charles Gellar had been Mom’s boyfriend for the past few years. He worked for a bank and treated her nicely, and I approved of him.

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