• Coming together over food has always been a core part of my family's holiday celebrations.
• In my 20s, an eating disorder took the joy out of gathering with family and friends.
• Now, my family gatherings — and the food at them — are enjoyable once again.

Food is a core part of holiday traditions for most families — especially mine. "Some people eat to live, but we live to eat," my grandfather would always say. Every year, I looked forward to the over-the-top spread at Thanksgiving, and the countless decadent desserts on display at Christmas. It was wonderful — until I developed an eating disorder at 21.

How it started

I spent my last semester of college interning in Los Angeles — about two months in, after a devastating and blindsiding breakup with my boyfriend, my mother began losing our home back on the East Coast. I felt like I had lost control of the wheel. The one thing in my life I could control? What I ate.

It started with a food journal. I carried it everywhere, jotting down every single thing I put in my mouth. Even a couple of grapes or a small handful of granola had to be tracked and recorded. Then I began following several nutrition blogs and reading those oh-so-problematic "what I eat in a day" posts. Now I know that those bloggers' meals didn't provide enough calories for me, but at the time they were something I looked to for inspiration.

The false sense of control I gained from tracking calories and counting almonds was intoxicating — and my habits gradually spiraled. Soon I had to measure every tablespoon of peanut butter I spread on a sandwich or the oil I drizzled on a salad. It became impossible to enjoy a meal out with friends, because I knew I'd lie awake later that night riddled with anxiety about not knowing exactly what I'd consumed.

It's funny. At the time, I felt so in control when in reality, the disorder had begun controlling me. It had the final say on where, what, and how much I could eat, and the joy I could derive from enjoying food with loved ones.

Needless to say, when the holidays rolled around that year, the emphasis on food no longer felt like a perk. Instead, it was agonizing. In the days leading up to Thanksgiving, I spent hours plotting how I could fool my family into thinking I'd feasted along with them while hiding food in a napkin. And then I spent countless sleepless nights after Christmas simultaneously shaming myself for my choices and wrestling with regret that I hadn't allowed myself to indulge in my favorite treats.

A turning point

This December marks 13 years since I hit rock bottom. And from this vantage point, it's hard to believe that my eating disorder almost ruined all of my favorite holidays for me. Although my mom and other family members had urged me to get help, only I could make that decision for myself and put in the work it takes to recover. When I realized that my eating disorder was impairing my social life, dating life, and ability to travel while also holding me back from achieving my career goals and sapping all the joy out of fun celebratory occasions, I decided to seek professional help.

It took extensive therapy for me to get here — to unpack the fears and feelings at the root of my disordered thoughts and habits — but I finally reached what I consider to be a full recovery from my eating disorder at age 23. I feel so fortunate to have worked with Dr. Jennifer Thomas, a psychologist who has since become the co-director of the Eating Disorders Clinical and Research Program at Massachusetts General Hospital. During our weekly sessions, she gave me challenges to try at home that often felt uncomfortable — eating at different times than my usual schedule, incorporating "fear foods" back into my routine one by one, and offered invaluable support as I dug into the desperation for control that was driving my eating disorder.

Now, I make a choice to be healthy every day

Since then, I've given several speeches at my local chapter of the National Eating Disorders Association to offer hope for people on their own recovery journey. During these speeches, I've made it a point to give people a realistic idea of what life looks like post-recovery. In setting those expectations, I've told them: "It's not like your disorder disappears. It's just so much easier to squash that toxic inner dialogue."

Mindfulness has played a key role in my recovery — and the way I cope at food-focused holidays and other occasions. For so many years, I ignored what my body was trying to tell me. It got to the point where I didn't even notice hunger cues or cravings anymore. Practicing mindfulness has helped me to tune back into those signals so that when disordered thoughts arise, I can check in internally and make decisions based on my body's actual needs.

When surveying the family-style feast on Thanksgiving, my mind is sometimes quick to whisper: "You should load up on carrots rather than mashed potatoes," or "You already had sugar-laden cranberry sauce, you should skip the pie." The difference now is that it's become easier to dismiss that voice, like an old frenemy whose advice and opinions I just don't value any longer. And every time I opt to pay no attention to it, it gets a little bit quieter. Nowadays, I often reach the end of a holiday celebration realizing that I didn't hear my eating disorder's unhelpful input at all.

Research shows that only around 21% of people make a full recovery from an eating disorder. I'm very grateful to count myself among that minority because as the holidays fast approach again this year, I'm not worrying about how to "get through" while depriving myself of all the foods that bring me joy and pleasure. I'm far more focused on how grateful I am to even have access to these foods — something so many Americans lack.

My memories of those holidays during the peak of my disorder feel so hazy, like a photograph that's faded beyond perceptibility. This year, rather than being distracted by my own anxious thoughts, I'm focused on being present with my family and friends. I want to remember every conversation — and every bite.

• I loved my trip to Dubrovnik in Croatia — it reminded me of Italy's Amalfi Coast in many ways.
• I loved the museums, my coastal accommodations, and the country's many beautiful, free beaches.
• The food felt diverse and the city has so much fascinating history and incredible architecture.

Confession: Up until this year, I didn't know much about Croatia — other than the fact that much of "Game of Thrones" was filmed there.

However, after my well-traveled aunt raved about a recent trip to this Mediterranean country, it skyrocketed to the top of my want-to-visit list. She's spent substantial time in Europe, including some of the most beautiful places in Italy, so I figured it must be well worth a visit if she left so impressed.

Croatia is right across the Adriatic Sea from Italy. Historically, it's been a bit overshadowed by surrounding coastal European hot spots, including the Amalfi Coast.

After spending four nights in Dubrovnik, a city on Croatia's southernmost tip, I can confidently say it's just as beautiful as its Italian neighbor, if not more so.

The history is fascinating.

There's no denying that Italy has a rich history. That said, Croatia has a unique blend of cultural influences from Greeks and Romans to Byzantines and Austro-Hungarians, making for an interesting fusion of food, architecture, and art.

And even though Dubrovnik was damaged by an earthquake in 1667 and artillery attacks in the early 1990s, many of its Gothic, Baroque, and Renaissance churches and cathedrals, fountains, forts, and other historical structures still stand.

Croatia has a whopping 10 UNESCO World Heritage Sites, which is impressive considering the size of the country — it's smaller than most US states.

I felt safe throughout my trip.

Many consider Croatia to be a fairly safe travel destination for solo travelers. Some reports have even listed it among the safest countries in the world this year, in part because of its fairly low crime rate.

I can honestly say I never felt uneasy on my trip, even while walking alone through Dubrovnik or heading back to my hotel from dinner after dark.

The diversity of food impressed me.

Yes, Italy promises all the crave-worthy carbs, but I find that Croatia's cuisine offers more variety because it reflects all its neighboring countries.

It has something for everyone. For example, along the Southern coast, the cuisine is more seafood-heavy and leans more Greek. In the northern and eastern regions, the cuisine feels more influenced by Hungary, Turkey, and Austria — think: hearty meat stews and schnitzel.

During my stay in Dubrovnik, I enjoyed a wide array of eats from oysters and other fresh seafood to traditional Bosnian cuisine. By the way — to my delight, there was no shortage of Italian classics like gelato and Neopolitan pizza, either.

I was able to find affordable food and drinks throughout my trip.

I found that Croatia felt more affordable to visit than some other popular travel destinations in Europe.

For example, a decent glass of wine can cost around 6 to 9 euros on the Amalfi Coast. In Ston, a laidback fishing town on the Dalmatian Coast, I found a café offering a glass of wine with three oysters for 9 euros — quite a steal.

Throughout my trip, I regularly found meals for about 10 euros or beers for about 3 euros, which felt quite affordable.

Many accommodations are beyond dreamy.

I split my time between two hotels in Dubrovnik: The Bellevue, a boutique hotel set on a high cliff overlooking Miramare Bay, and The Excelsior, another seaside spot located a stone's throw from Old Town.

Both provided me with dramatic Adriatic views that resembled something out of a movie — bright-blue waters, terracotta roofs, and dramatic rocky bluffs.

The Bellevue and Excelsior are consistently rated among the best hotels in Dubrovnik. With that in mind, I felt the cost was actually reasonable for the value: My king suite with a balcony, sea view, and sitting area at the Hotel Bellevue was 700 euros a night.

On the Amalfi Coast, I found a comparable king suite could cost over 3,660 euros a night during the same low-season month of October.

There's no shortage of art museums and galleries.

Croatia is full of world-class museums and galleries featuring the work of both native and foreign artists.

One highlight is the Museum of Modern Art Dubrovnik (MOMAD).

I could've spent hours at the MOMAD, which is housed inside a restored 1930s mansion and features thousands of paintings, sculptures, photos, and other works.

In my opinion, Croatian wines are highly underrated.

I've had many Italian wines in my lifetime, but admittedly, I'd never had a Croatian one until my trip to Dubrovnik.

From my first sip of crisp Malvasia during a guided tasting at the Hotel Supetar in Cavtat, I was smitten with Croatia's native grapes.

Sauvignon blanc is my go-to, and the rendition I tried from Croatian winery Puhelek Purek had all the citrusy notes and bright acidity I love.

I've since learned that Croatian wines have won countless international awards — last year, the country took home 366 medals at the prestigious Decanter World Wine Awards.

There are plenty of beautiful beaches — and the best part is, most are free to access.

The sandy beaches on Italy's Amalfi Coast and islands are picturesque, but many of Croatia's beaches are just as pristine.

The beaches are plentiful, too, as Croatia has more than 1,000 islands. For comparison, Italy has about 450.

In October, the beaches I visited in Croatia weren't super crowded, and the water was still warm enough to swim in. Best of all, almost none of the country's beaches are privatized.

Most of Croatia's beaches are free to the public, even ones in luxe Dubrovnik, where many celebrities stay. This isn't the case in Italy where you'll often need to pay an entrance fee to get into top beaches.