“Going to the chapel and we’re gona get married. Going to the chapel of love.” And who knew that three years later I would actually be getting married in Florence with the man who was taking my photo.
This is not a short post. In fact it’s pretty bloody long. Try condensing a six year story of mental illness into a couple of paragraphs, it’s quite impossible. So grab a cuppa and a bikkie and I invite you to read, and hopefully learn, about a very poignant time in my life. From the age 18 to 23 I battled with anorexia. An illness that is slowly coming out of the woodwork and being talked about more and more. Now I know talking about it is not going to cure it but it will at least help lift the taboo. So this is my contribution to the wider conversation. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
It seemed fitting to go to Charlie Dumpling with my friend Charlie. Almost as if it was meant to be. As if the stars had aligned. As if fate brought us to this magnificent eatery. Or it could just be that Georges recommended it to us. However it was we ended up there I’m bloody pleased we did. Tucked away next to the window we got ready to discover what had been described to us as one of Melbourne’s gems.