The first time I can remember being worried about my weight, I was far too young to be worried about my weight. I was a giggly eight-year-old wearing a dress to school with a built-in Velcro belt around my waist that un-Velcroed at different times throughout the day when I’d laugh or sit or stand or run. And I didn’t think anything of it.
Then, I sat down next to my friend, felt my tummy push against the belt, heard that scratchy Velcro sound, and laughed as the belt broke open. I said, with a playful roll of my eyes, “Why does this keep happening?”
“It’s because you’re too f…” he started to say. I remember feeling my cheeks flush with the realization of what “f-word” he had begun to say, and he simply laughed at my shocked expression.
I never wore that dress again. Ran home that day, threw it into the back of a storage closet, and cried myself to sleep.
This third-grade memory embedded itself in the back of my mind for over a decade. It spurred years of standing in front of mirrors, hating the extra pinches of “fat” and skin on my body. And years of disordered eating patterns—not “serious” enough to be noticeable—that I disguised in public as “healthy eating,” when, in reality, they weren’t “healthy” in any sense of the word. I remember feeling accomplished if I laid down to sleep at night and felt the familiar pang of hunger in the stomach I had grown to hate. I remember hating myself if I then got up out of bed at midnight to binge on a bag of Lays when the hunger ached too much.
In grade and middle school, I was told day after day that my worth was dictated by my body. Girls whispering in the hallways as I developed earlier than most, boys making “secret” lists of the “hottest girls in the grade,” the self-loathing that ensued when I wasn’t on the list and when I was—it all made me believe that my body was something for others to define and something that I would always have to alter to their specifications.
As I continued to grow into my body and watched my weight shift differently in the mirror during puberty, I felt like I was losing control over it. I couldn’t change the hormones taking their natural course, but I could change my food intake. In high school, this only got worse when I started taking birth control and my hormones shifted even more.
I wouldn’t say I have ever had an eating disorder; I’ve never been diagnosed or felt as if it was out of my own control. I would absolutely say I have struggled with disordered eating. And sadly, my reality is also the reality of so many other people who struggle with incredibly unhealthy patterns of eating and thinking about food.
Disordered eating can be a “precursor to a full-fledged eating disorder,” and yet, it is so normalized and reinforced in our social and cultural surroundings. College students jokingly complain about not eating for an entire day and glorify these harmful habits; YouTube “What I Eat in a Day” videos depict women drinking a glass of lemon water and a few almonds for breakfast; images of the bodies of models who must excessively diet and exercise to be deemed worthy enough for Victoria’s Secret and other corporations are plastered everywhere. We normalize talking negatively about our bodies and about food; we demonize praising our bodies and allowing ourselves to simply satiate our hunger.
I still occasionally fall back into dangerous patterns. And I absolutely catch myself joking about skipping meals like every other “relatable college kid” as if it’s completely normal. But it isn’t a joke. Because sometimes there is still that voice in the back of my head that congratulates me if I forget to eat a meal. And because I could be making these “casual” comments to or around someone who struggles with the same kinds of issues that I’ve struggled with or has suffered and continues to suffer from an eating disorder, which can be incredibly damaging.
Luckily, I have made many strides. While I still find myself struggling to accept some parts of the body that stares back at me in a floor-length mirror, I no longer seek to punish it by refusing to give it sustenance. I have had to work hard on my eating habits, but they have changed, and I’m much happier with my new relationship with food.
I have listed below a few of the specific things I have done that have helped me change my disordered eating habits and negative attitude toward my body. It’s important to acknowledge that I am not a professional on these matters and that these strategies won’t work for everyone dealing with these issues because every person has their own unique experience. I can only hope that someone will find them helpful. But if you think you may be developing or have an eating disorder, please do not expect that you can simply recover on your own. I cannot stress this enough. I have never had an eating disorder and can only speak from my own experience.
That being said, here’s what has helped me:
1. Reminding myself of what makes me happy
It has taken me a long time to realize it, but being “thin” or having what I used to think of as an “ideal body shape” is never going to instantly make me happy or solve all of my problems. This is how I used to think about and approach my eating habits. I thought that I could control my happiness by controlling what I ate because, in my mind, if I could get the body that I thought I wanted, I would finally be happy. However, my happiness has never depended on my weight or the way my body looks.
When my mind starts to veer in the wrong direction and I start thinking negatively about food and my body’s relationship to food, I try to remind myself that my happiness and beauty is not about the way I look. I try to think of things that I love about my life, my loved ones, and myself—things that truly make me happy.
2. Not speaking negatively about my body
There seems to be a strange expectation that we should always refer to our body in a negative manner. It’s normalized and reinforced everywhere. For the past couple of years, I have made a conscious effort to stop myself from making these statements. Of course I have insecurities; I probably always will. And it’s not always possible to silence the inner monologue that catalogs the things I don’t always like about my body and appearance. But I can control the words that come out of my mouth, and this has honestly been very helpful for me.
Not verbally attacking myself has, over time, helped stop this inner monologue. And I’ve recently found myself looking at my body in my floor-length mirror and naturally picking out things that I like about it—even before noticing the things I don’t like. My thought process has changed. I no longer look at my stomach or cellulite and immediately wish my body was different; instead, I look at the shape of my body as something so beautiful and unique to me.
3. Making meals with loved ones
I know many people who struggle with disordered eating or eating disorders really find it difficult to eat in front of other people, especially people they know, so this may not be the best strategy for everyone. However, I have found that cooking and eating meals with the people I love has been very healing. I strongly believe that food is not only sustenance for the body, but for the soul. Food should be enjoyed, and the more I’m able to have fun cooking and eating a meal with someone or a group of people who uplift me and make me happy, I the more I find my relationship with food improving.
4. Eating whole foods and avoiding processed foods
This might not be a good strategy for everyone, and it was definitely something I had to work my way up to in order to make sure I was doing it for the right reasons. I also certainly don’t stop myself from eating junk food occasionally when I feel the urge, but I try to buy as many whole foods or foods that are mostly unprocessed when I go grocery shopping. I’ve found that my body simply feels better when I eat truly healthy foods, and this makes me look at my body in a more positive way. 95 percent of our bodies’ serotonin, the neurotransmitter that helps regulate sleep and appetite as well as mediate moods, is produced in our gastrointestinal tract, which means that what we eat impacts our emotions. And studies have shown that eating mostly unprocessed foods has an enormously positive impact on our emotions and psychological well-being.
I want to stress, though, that I still strongly believe in the importance of not limiting myself to these foods. Yes, I love eating a fresh, balanced meal of chicken and veggies with avocado, but I also love pizza and bagels and sweets and I don’t limit myself to any kind of “diet.” There aren’t “good” foods and “bad” foods; it’s all about maintaining balance and variety.
5. Listening to and trusting my body
This is one of the most important things I’ve learned on this journey. If I’m hungry, I eat; If I’m full, I stop. But if I overeat every once in a while, I don’t chastise myself. I also listen to my cravings—if I find myself really craving peanut butter, it probably means my body wants some proteins or fats; if I’m craving something salty, my electrolytes might be low. Sometimes, I feel incredibly lethargic and can’t stop myself from taking long naps. I’ve realized that this often means my iron levels are low, which can often be remedied by a bowl of cereal or a meal packed with spinach.
This also means that I really try to stop myself from counting calories or measuring out portions. It can be very tempting to take a peek at the nutrition facts and serving suggestions on packages of foods—which is another reason that I try to eat a lot of whole or unprocessed foods that don’t have these labels—but I’ve found that doing this ultimately contributes to detrimental eating habits.
Ultimately, I don’t have the answers and I’m not perfect. I still struggle every day to maintain a “healthy” relationship with food and with my body. It takes time and a whole lot of work to determine what will work for you. I am lucky enough that I never developed an eating disorder and was able to change my eating habits on my own. However, this may not be the same for you, and I want to emphasize that there is absolutely nothing wrong or shameful about seeking help. If you are dealing with serious patterns of disordered eating that you feel you have no control over, you should talk to someone and seek professional help.
Listed below are some resources specifically devoted to support, resources and treatment for eating disorders:
- Call (800) 931-2237 Monday-Thursday from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. CT and Friday 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. CT
- Online chat function available on www.myneda.org/helpline
- For a crisis situation, text “NEDA” to 741741 to be connected with a trained volunteer
University Counseling Center at SLU:
- To schedule a counseling appointment, call 314-977-8255
- To schedule an appointment with a psychiatrist, call the Student Health Center at 314-977-2323
- Appointments available 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Monday through Friday.
Missouri Eating Disorders Association: Treatment Resources Listings