It’s amazing how many of us are obsessed about our weight. This does not, of course, exclude men (men getting eating disorders, too), but it seems typical–almost normal–to see nearly every woman out there on a diet, attempting to lose weight, or at least never feeling satisfied with their body. It’s an unfortunate truth, and it’s a big problem in our society. With all the fat-shaming, and especially a bias against women (see just one of many articles about the subject here), it makes eating disorders that much more common.
We can’t just blame the media, either. Eating disorders are not caused by the media, but media images/pressure can act as a ‘trigger’ to someone who may be predisposed to developing an eating disorder. It wasn’t like one day I looked at a skinny woman on a magazine and thought, I want to be skinny as her, and developed the eating disorder.
I have, for the most part, been happy with my appearance. It came down to seeing weight as giving myself worth. I associated a lower weight with faster running times. I associated a lower weight with control and perfection (isn’t that what society has brainwashed us to believe?). It was all about the number on the scale, the times I ran in races, and the place I took. The extra “bonus” was that I looked thin.
My thinner body was a metaphor for something bigger. If I had a thinner body, I could show control, that, especially as a woman, I would not gorge myself or overindulge in food. And then I saw that I could run faster. I remember one time during a race, an opponent passed me in the final stretch to win it. I didn’t give much thought to it, unconcerned because I was so consumed with my own body: She may win this race, but I’m skinnier, so I really win in the end.
I cringe writing that. Of course, the eating disorder warps your thoughts. I was in a different place back then. I had the same weight stigma about others that I am so much against now. I grew up hearing, “fat people just need more control,” and “they just need to eat less and exercise more.” Weight became known to me as a form of control, as something that should be easy to regulate and calculated, and that anyone who was even a few pounds overweight (especially women) just needed to gain more control and self-respect. In fact, I spent my entire elementary-school life handing out healthy snacks for the birthday “treats” (to the dismay of my fellow students) and writing papers for class about health, nutrition and exercise as if I was meant to preach it to the world and “fix” everyone. Even if something bad was happening in my life, at least I was still skinny.
What Makes An Eating Disorder?
Okay, so not every person that goes on a diet would qualify as having an eating disorder. Some people do realize that they want to make some changes and work hard to get rid of the excess weight. And of course, almost every person may not be in love with their body and find themselves looking in the mirror with a critical eye. Sometimes we will overeat, sometimes we will under-eat, and sometimes we will have that “fat day.”
As I mentioned in a previous post, I can remember what it was like to not have an eating disorder. If you were to compare the Rachael from my junior year of high school to my senior year of high school, you would see a distinct difference in how I approached food. I’ve thought about this a lot lately, in fact, as I try to go back to my “normal” eating behaviors. I try hard to harness what I had before. Unfortunately, at this point I realize that ignorance really is bliss, and that I may never eat as “normally” as I did back then.
Junior Rachael ate Nutri-grain bars with abandon for breakfast. She knew there were calories, but didn’t care about them or even think about counting; it would be a waste of time. She didn’t think she was fat. She ate healthfully and had the occasional over-indulgence of pizza and dessert with family and friends (I am in awe of this girl!). She didn’t love how her body looked compared to others (and often looked critically into the mirror or compared herself with others and magazine photos), but she felt that, despite some insecurities, food had little to do with it. She was a happy person, a perfectionist, working hard to get those straight-A’s and run fast for the high school cross country and track team. Guilt about food happened once in a while, but it did not dominate her life.
And then the trigger: A dose of sister losing weight here, a comment from mom there, and an overwhelming sense of guilt to reach ultimate perfection that sent me careening off the cliff into restriction.
Going into my senior year, fresh out of summer, I began to restrict. But what really triggered it came later in the second semester, an experience I talk about in thorough detail in the book (there’s way too much to explain here).
If I break it all up into pieces like that, it makes sense. It was more gradual than anything, but comparing one chunk of time to another helps to see the differences and where it all changed and how.
It Never Truly Leaves You
As much as our society glamorizes eating disorders (just look at our runway models), I have to live every day looking in the mirror with the comparison of the lower weight to the weight I am now, must live trying to ignore the calorie count of every meal, only to succumb to the temptation and add it up later, must battle the most intense cravings I have ever felt in my life (my hormones and brain are still trying to level out, it seems), and feeling as if the entire world is watching me eat all the time.
The worst of the eating disorder with restriction, chewing and spitting, and binge-eating are over, but the effects and impact they have had on my body in mostly my mental state, with some physical frustrations (the intense cravings are the worst) have yet to work themselves out. I will not walk away from this unscathed, but at least I am a stronger person for it.
I only hope we as a society can be stronger, too.