Warning: this post may be triggering for those with disordered eating, an eating disorder, or those recovering/recovered from one.
The truth is that I started this draft last summer. That’s right, 8 months ago. I’ve re-read it and edited it countless times since then, but I never felt ready or vulnerable enough to actually publish this. In the spirit of National Eating Disorder Awareness week, I finally decided that it was time. In years prior, I would just sit back and read or listen to other people’s stories throughout this week, but never dreamed I would ever share my own. I also didn’t think I had a story worth sharing. That version of me is gone, and the more I learn about diet culture and the prevalence of eating disorders, the louder I want to speak up.
If I’m being honest, I often feel like a hypocrite when I sit behind my screen and type. I’m inclined to feel this way because I know that I’m not healed, and I still face the struggles I talk about so passionately. Yet, I think that’s exactly why I’m sitting here behind this screen. Not only to help and hopefully provide encouragement for others through my stories/experiences, but to continue to heal myself. I know that posting this won’t make my own condition any worse, but there is a chance that it could help someone else’s. So here goes nothing.
When most people think of the term “eating disorder,” a limit of three categories typically come to mind: anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa, and binge eating disorder. These are the most popular/commonly known types, but the umbrella of eating disorders doesn’t stop here. There are numerous other disorders, but what I have both past and present experience with is disordered eating. Disordered eating refers to a range of irregular eating behaviors that may or may not warrant a diagnosis of a specific eating disorder. Being a disordered eater doesn’t automatically mean you have an eating disorder, but it can often serve as a precursor. This may sound like it’s “not that big of a deal”, or that it “can’t be that bad,” which is what I’ve convinced myself of for years, but I’m here to drop some truth behind these misconceptions.
Disordered eating effects every decision I make about food during the day, and controls my basic thought process on a subconscious level to where I don’t even recognize it. I have dealt with this skewed view of food since middle school, but I didn’t put a name to the disorder until I was in college. I remember learning about it in one of my nutrition classes, and I had never felt more exposed. My professor read all of the signs and symptoms, and I felt my stomach drop. I always simply viewed myself as a “healthy eater” and someone who cared about their body. I thought my way of thinking about food was normal, but I quickly realized it was far from that. I would love to say that I have fully recovered, and I am typing on the other side of this disorder, but that would be a lie. At this point, I am generally well aware when I do have these thoughts, yet I am unable to turn them off. Just because I eat more frequently and have broadened my food intake over the years does not mean that the narrative I have around food has disappeared.
You may be wondering what exactly disordered eating looks like, and I want to help you try to understand. In my own experience, it looks like thinking about food constantly, but not eating that often. I overthink everything that I eat, and most days I under-eat. While I’m eating one meal, my mind is already thinking about what I’m going to eat for the next. I tend to overcompensate for “overeating” by intensifying my workouts, and feeling like I need to “earn” my food. I don’t usually eat the foods I actually want to eat, and it’s hard for me to eat outside of my food comfort zone. Restricting foods often leads to a binge whenever I do allow myself to consume these foods, which feels like an unbreakable cycle. I often try to push the limit between meal times, and try to stick to eating at certain times, rather than listening to my body’s hunger cues. I have anxiety when I travel, due to not knowing where I will be eating and sometimes having no control over it. I also get anxiety when I go out to eat with others, because the menu is out of my control. The stress of this leads me to feeling anxious and on edge, and I become very irritable in these situations. I often order food that I feel like I “should” eat, not what I actually want to eat. When the calories are listed next to items on the menu, it sends my mind into a spiral, and significantly influences my food choices. My absolute least favorite question is “where do you want to go eat?” I can’t explain the mental process I go through to try and answer that simple question. I’m always torn between trying to decide what I actually want, what I’ll allow myself to eat, and what others will want. These struggles are from my personal experience, and in no way reflects eating disorders/disordered eating as a whole.
For as long as I can remember, all I’ve ever wanted is to “eat like a normal person.” I just want to eat food and not think about it. I want to eat whatever I want, whenever I want, and not feel a moral attachment to food. I want to listen to my body’s hunger cues, rather than ignoring them for so long that I become ten times hungrier than I was in the first place. I want to eat consistently and enough throughout the entire day, so that when nighttime hits I’m not wanting to consume everything in sight in response to the restriction I put myself through all day. All I have ever wanted is to have peace with food and to free up the space in my head that has been consumed with these thoughts 24/7 for many years now. I’m actively working on all of these areas, but it sure is tough.
Female athletes are incredibly susceptible to developing eating disorders/disordered eating, but mine was rooted long before my career actually took off. I set myself up for the perfect storm without even knowing it. With every new season of my career, the intensity and depth of my disorder grew to new heights as well. My disorder existed before, during, and after my career concluded - its just simply taken on a different look by disguising itself to fit in with each phase.
Disordered eating looks different for everyone, and symptoms vary from person to person. Thankfully, my relationship with food has improved immensely over the years, but I’m still not where I want to be. There are certain foods that I still have a hard time letting myself eat freely, and I am working on not viewing these foods as “bad” or “off limits,” and trying to add them in slowly. As crazy as it sounds, I feel that this has become a part of who I am, and to let go of all of these characteristics will mean losing part of my identity. There are many things I’m doing personally to retrain my mind around food and separate myself from diet culture...but that’s a topic for another day.
Sometimes I eat less than I should, sometimes I eat more than my body is comfortable with. Sometimes I eat a salad, sometimes I eat a lot of cookie dough. No matter what I eat or how much of it I eat, my mind is at war with itself.
You might be wondering “how am I supposed to know if someone has an eating disorder/disordered eating?” That’s the thing, you won’t know because it’s not generally evident by someone’s physical appearance. Because of this, it is vital to respect other people’s food choices and refrain from commenting on them. I am triggered by numerous things, but one that has the greatest effect on me is when people comment about what I eat (or don’t eat). I will never say anything about another person’s food choice, because I know the effects it has on me when the roles are reversed. Also please be careful when commenting on someone’s weight-you never know what’s behind the weight loss or gain. Another thing to be conscious of is talking about your “diet” or “what food group you’re cutting out” or “needing to work off your food,” as statements like these can be incredibly triggering as well.
Eating disorders are not something to be taken lightly, and the severity of a person’s condition is not for you to determine, but to respect. You never know what that person is dealing with, and the anxiety that your words can induce. If you are someone who struggles with the issues I discussed, I see you and feel for you. Your condition is valid, and does not have to reach a certain breaking point before you seek help or recovery. I’m not a professional and I cannot help with any of these issues, but I am here to encourage you and let you know that you’re not alone. Healing isn’t going to be an easy process, but each step forward is a success and a step in the direction of the food freedom we all desire and deserve.