CONTENT WARNING: This article contains themes and descriptions of anorexia, orthorexia, body dysmorphia and exercise abuse. Reader discretion is advised.
From the age of eight, I’ve struggled with my body. I have a vivid memory of playing outside with my brother and jumping up and down, noticing how my stomach would jiggle with each landing. That was when the obsession started.
When I was 16 my mother told me if I didn’t get better I wouldn’t be allowed to go away to school when I graduated. This, combined with several other factors, contributed to my deep dive into recovery from my eating disorder.
Two years, one treatment program and three therapists later my family had finally deemed me “ready for adulthood,” which subsequently meant ready to move out. I’d never been so relieved. The problem I wasn’t aware of yet was that while my body was healed, my mind still had some work to do.
After a week of being on campus I had already known that there was going to be a problem. The first was being in the dining hall and coming face to face with foods I would never make for myself at home. I had to come to terms with the fact that maybe I was only weight restored because I could control whatever “safe foods” I consumed. I stuck to the salad bar for a while, but that didn’t cut it for very long and eventually I began to eat what was classified in my mind as junk food: potatoes, bread and pasta. I felt awful every time I ate. Since I was paying for a meal plan I felt guilty if I didn’t eat three big meals a day, something that I’d never done living at home and something that caused me immense stress. I felt like I had to keep up with my peers and not let my disordered thoughts control my social life. I’d eat with friends in the dining hall, go out for fast food on weekends and just try to enjoy eating and socializing. Eventually, this was actually beneficial, I’d felt free from the constraints of my anorexic mind, but this didn’t last very long.
Something I didn’t realize is that disordered eating is a lot more common than most think. I started to notice my own habits in the friends I had made. Skipping meals, eating less on certain days and overexercising. I had multiple friends that would tell me how they would skip a meal when they performed badly in school. As someone trying to heal, this really hindered my recovery.
Eating disorders are extremely competitive. Throughout high school my greatest obsession was being the thinnest in the room. I would actively look at every single person and if I perceived myself as heavier, I believed I had to work harder. It seems this carried over to university. As my friends pursued unhealthy habits, I followed suit. I found myself giving up on a meal while I was still hungry if my friends ate less than me and going to the gym even though I was nowhere near ready to exercise again. It got to a point where if I didn’t work out every time my friends did, I would feel inadequate.
Living on my own didn’t help this fact. While I could always call my mom, it wasn’t the same because nobody was there to monitor my behaviour. The unfamiliar mirrors in my dorm room worsened my body dysmorphia, my abuse of the gym left me exhausted and emotionless and mealtime was something I dreaded. Being surrounded by young women, most of who were fed the same information as I was throughout my youth, was toxic for me. It felt in my mind like a competition to see who could be the thinnest.
I returned home for Christmas and over that time at home I realized that my actions changed when I wasn’t surrounded by other people. This made me realize the toxic behaviour that was truly going on and why I shouldn’t be comparing myself to other women. When I got back to campus I decided to change my ways, I distanced myself from situations that brought me down and eventually found new ways to lift myself up.
I grew the most I had in years in my last semester of first year; I learned to eat intuitively, socialize healthily and to accept my body for the wonderful machine that it is. The dining hall was no longer a place of dread but a place to talk with interesting people and enjoy a meal. My mirrors didn’t distort the way I looked anymore once I stopped analyzing every other body around me. I stopped going to the gym. I have both my own personal growth and the help of the people in my life to thank for these changes.
All this being said, I don’t want to paint my story as an example of how there is a single great epiphany that will magically cure your eating disorder. There isn’t. The truth is that I still continue to struggle every single day- even writing this from my bedroom at home. I still feel awful when I see an Instagram post of a skinny girl in a bikini or when someone makes a casual comment about how they skipped breakfast this morning. I still get disordered thoughts multiple times I day, but I manage them much differently. My current therapist once told me about the “hot stove analogy,” which is when you think a disordered thought, immediately ignore it as if you were to take your hand quickly off of a hot stove. Instead of letting someone else’s innocent comment about only having a coffee for lunch encourage me to skip a meal, I merely acknowledge how it made me feel and work on my reaction.
Though I still struggle, I am in the best mental state I have been in years. I’ve gained more weight and I’m proud of it! I genuinely love my body and for the first time since I was eight-years-old, I don’t want to change it.
My greatest advice to someone suffering the way I did and going off to school is to become aware of your triggers and remove yourself from them. Seeking help and getting advice from a licensed therapist can help you recognize these things. Living alone means you have to become your own monitor and know how to manage your emotions. To this day I still don’t go to the gym, but I’ve stopped shaming myself for that. I’m simply not in the right mindset to exercise again. If you aren’t comfortable with the conversations at your dining hall table, explain your feelings. If the climate of the group doesn’t change, remove yourself from that situation. Remember the hot stove.
For those who have no connection to the feelings I’ve described, please take into account the other people in your lives and understand how your actions can be detrimental to others. I personally have avoided the discussion of the side effects of my eating disorder and how it manifested as these details can be extremely damaging and seen as inspiration to other sufferers. While you may not be responsible for someone’s triggers, you should nonetheless avoid comments about skipping a meal or your fear of the freshman 15 because these ideas hurt everyone.
If you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder here are some useful resources to refer to: