I don’t know how to write this.
My relationship with food started with food insecurity. I was skinny because there was nothing to eat. I was skinny because I was born skinny. When my life moved to a point where there was always food on the table, I used it as a bargaining chip. When a parent who made questionable choices about and for me did so, I didn’t want dinner. It made them mad. So, I didn’t eat dinner a lot. My brain started associating being upset with not eating. Around the time I started college someone hurt me very badly and I was very upset. I wasn’t eating, I didn’t even think about why.
Before it got too bad I tried to tell them, explain how I was feeling and that I wasn’t eating (not connecting the two) and begged to be let down easy, not ghosted after years of being subjected to what was already emotional abuse. That’s not what I’m writing about. It got to where people, even my parent, were noticing. I had lost the freshman 15, and then some, from what had already been a low weight my entire life. Finally, I saw too. I made myself eat. Others made me, too. I’m incredibly lucky to have had any support and to have caught myself so early on. It took a year, but I got myself back up to what was a healthy BMI (yes, BMI is problematic is determining what is a healthy weight).
Now, the cycle starts again. I face food insecurity and am getting used to skipping a meal or two. Sometimes I catch myself doing so not even in the name of monetary issue, but because I just can’t bring myself to it. Tweets that call iced coffee a meal aren’t funny. Before I go further: skinny people do not face anywhere NEAR the challenges that a thicker woman does. “Skinnyphobia” isn’t a thing, don’t get it twisted. On that note, do not tell me I look fine when I’m saying I’m too skinny. I know this is a ridiculous request. I know I can’t possibly expect another response, but one that validates my actions. It doesn’t make sense, but it doesn’t have to be worrying either. If I choose to share this mess of an article, that has taken me months to complete, as my work, it isn’t meant as a confession. I’ve gotten back up to a normal weight in the past, I try not to check my weight but I’m pretty sure I am one now.
I don’t even know why I’m writing this. Maybe to vent, maybe to show that it’s normal. Even if I’m not putting it under my name, it would be just as valid and fine if I did. An eating disorder isn’t always physical insecurity, it doesn’t always start in high school. It can range from slightly to extremely (but it is ALWAYS) dangerous. And I, and no one else, owes anyone a name on something like this. Luckily, I don’t owe anyone a cohesive structure either. Thank you.