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It’s Eating Disorder Awareness Week. Let me first say that I have never been clinically diagnosed with an eating disorder. People of all ages, genders, ethnicities, and sexual orientations can suffer from eating disorders, and an even greater number (65%) of people will use eating disorder behaviors in their life. I was one of the 65% of women who struggle with disordered eating. This means I don’t have a clinically diagnosable eating disorder, but I was using eating disorder behaviors such as food restriction, obsessive thoughts, and preoccupation & distress over food and my body.
It started out in highschool as me trying to “get healthy” by tracking my food in an app. I would look up everything that crossed my lips and type it into my phone. I patted myself on the back when I ate dessert as long as it fit my calories. See, I’m not restricting myself, I thought, since I was still eating a variety of foods including “junk food.” Soon enough I was planning out the day’s food in advance. If my friends wanted to go out, I was asking them to decide where so I could google the menu and find out how much I would need to compensate in my other meals. If unplanned food came up, I would try to covertly search “how many calories are in a…” under the table while my friends were actually having conversation and enjoying each other. At first, it wasn’t that distressing. Sure, I felt a little disconnected from my friends, but I felt good about myself when I followed my food rules. I always felt a little twinge of pride when someone referred to me as the “healthy eater” or complimented my appearance. I didn’t see it as a diet, but a lifestyle that was working for me. But the problem with diets disguised as lifestyles is that they aren’t sustainable, and it often gets worse.
On one particularly memorable evening, my boyfriend and I had been planning to get milkshakes. I had already planned for it, working out beforehand and thinking about that sweet reward I had already typed into my app. Still on target. On the way to the restaurant he casually mentioned that he wasn’t feeling hungry for a milkshake and was going to get some other food instead. I shut down emotionally as my mind started racing. “Are you serious?” I said rather angrily, “But we were planning this (i.e. I had been obsessing about this all day)!” He couldn’t understand why I cared so much about what he ordered since we were still getting food together. I felt so overwhelmed that I broke down and started crying. I could NOT order a milkshake so full of calories, sugar, fat, (and goodness) if I was the only person who wanted one. Why did I still crave one when it was so easy for him to get something else? If I ate it, and he didn’t, that meant I was eating more calories than him. It meant I had no self-control and that would be the end of my world.
It was that breakdown on a date that made me start to question my relationship with food, counting calories, and trying to stay small. I didn’t want to be reduced to tears each time I had to miss a workout or I ate more food than I planned. I didn’t want to spend the whole day obsessing over what I was going to eat. I wish I could say that moment did it for me, and I never looked back. The truth is though, healing your relationship to food, exercise, and your body is hard work. Hard work that for me is still ongoing. Our culture rewards disordered eating practices and small bodies, so it can be challenging to make the daily decisions to take care of our bodies. But it is so worth it.
Looking back, I can see how damaging dieting was for me. I feel sad for the girl I was in high school when I ate popcorn for lunch to feel full even though that meant I didn’t have the proper nutrition to grow. I spent hours agonizing about food and exercise instead of being present with my family and friends. My body became unacceptable, something I had to manipulate and control. I ignored what my body wanted for so long, sometimes I still struggle to recognize its signals. It wrecked my mental health. Instead of thinking about classes, friends, or what I wanted out of life, I thought about how my body might look at angle x, what others might be thinking about my appearance. I was constantly stressed and felt isolated by my secret desire to be smaller.
The problem is that dieting doesn’t seem damaging at first. It can make us feel in control. It can make us feel safe, acceptable, and worthy in a society that rewards thinness and dieting. We live deep in a Diet Culture where dangerous dieting behaviors are applauded, so we push further and become more extreme until some people develop full-blown eating disorders. Most people with Anorexia, Bulimia, and Binge Eating Disorder all have histories of dieting. You don’t have to wait until that point.
If you are struggling with disordered eating, or you think you might be, reach out for help. You don’t have to have a diagnosable eating disorder in order to deserve help. I know how distressing it can be, and you are worthy of help. You deserve to feel welcome in your own body.
Consider the following resources:
Berry Counseling Center
Peer Body Project (email the peer educators at peereducator@berry.edu) to join a small group of women to talk about and improve body image.
Take this anonymous test to see if you’re at risk: https://screening.mentalhealthscreening.org/berry/screening/34487
This post is authored by Callie Whitesell
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