Episode Details

We're on Part 3 of our Four Agreements series, sis — and this one might be the sneakiest of them all.

So far we've learned to be impeccable with our word, and to stop taking things personally. Today's agreement ties them together: don't make assumptions. Because here's the truth — the eating disorder is a master storyteller. It makes up stories all day long, then hands them to you as if they're facts. Today, we learn to stop believing the lies.

(New here? Go back and start with Parts 1 and 2 — they build.)

We assume about everything

The problem isn't that we make assumptions. It's that we swear they're real. As the book puts it, "we make the assumption that everyone sees life the way we do."

She didn't text back — she's mad. He looked at my plate — he thinks I'm eating too much. They went quiet — they were talking about my body. We don't check. We don't ask. We decide it's true and live like it's true. And from that one habit, so much suffering is born — we blame, we react, we misunderstand, we create drama out of thin air. Almost all of our sadness is rooted in making assumptions.

The eating disorder is a master storyteller

The disorder doesn't deal in facts — it deals in stories. It fills every silence, every glance, every unanswered question with the same story: they noticed. they judged. you're not enough.

You have no evidence for any of it. But because the story feels so real, you believe it, react to it, restrict because of it, isolate because of it. We only see what we want to see — and when your lens is a disorder, you'll find "proof" for its lies everywhere. Making assumptions leads to chaos, and the disorder loves chaos, because it keeps you too spun-out to question it.

The assumptions that become rules

Here's where it gets really sneaky in recovery — assumptions don't just create stories, they create rules.

We assume wellness culture knows best — that the influencer, the diet, the "clean eating" plan knows what your body needs better than your body does. So we take on their rules as gospel: can't eat past this hour, have to earn it, have to burn it, never skip the workout.

And we never stop to ask: Is this actually nourishing my body? Is this genuinely healthy for me? Or is it just diet culture wrapped in a pretty bow of fake news? Because we don't ask, we obey — and every unquestioned rule makes the disorder stronger. The assumption becomes the cage.

My biggest assumption

I lived this one, sis. My biggest assumption in my whole journey was: if I eat more, I'll never stop gaining weight. I was convinced that if I nourished myself, my body would balloon endlessly and everyone would look at me and go, "Oh my gosh, look at her."

That assumption left me chained. Trapped. Terrified for a very long time — too scared to move forward, but exhausted from the cycle of restriction and over-exercising. I was suffering over something that had never happened and that I had zero evidence for. I just assumed it was true, and let it run my life.

The question that cracked it open: "But do you like it now?"

Here's the question I want to ask you, gently. You're assuming that if you gain weight, you won't like your body. But sis… do you like it now?

The disorder promises that staying exactly like this — restricting, controlling, shrinking — is protecting some peace with your body. But are you at peace right now? Or are you already at war with your body while telling yourself you're staying this way to avoid being at war with it?

You don't need to gain a pound to be miserable in your body — the disorder has you doing that today. The peace you're protecting doesn't exist. So you're not actually choosing