I remember it as far back as age seven or eight. I wouldn't wear a regular gymnastics leotard; it had to cover my theighs. I was a tiny little girl and I thought I was FAT. I remember looking in my grandmother's mirror at age ten in my two piece bathing suit. I didn't even have hips yet and all I saw was FAT. I remember the exact day I started an 11 year stint of food restriction. I was eleven years old and I often bought a pink cookie at lunch time. Then one day it occured to me that if I stopped eating those cookies...if I stopped eating fat, I could get skinny.
During middle school I didn't understand that calories are what cause weight gain, I thought it was all about fat grams. I would eat 20 grams of fat a day, and punish myself with eating only 5 if I went over one day. As my mom started to notice she got more controlling about what I ate. This only fueled my obsession. I threw away lunch items she sent with me, and supervised her cooking so she didn't add oil or butter to my food.
In high school I discovered calories and sugar, and my obsession grew. Friends noticed my odd food habits and commented frequently. I was "that girl." The one they called "anorexic," even though I wasn't. I was never quite sure if they were concerned or jealous. Their comments embarrassed me and made me proud at the same time. Embarassed at the attention, but proud I had the self control. Breaking my jaw came with the welcome side effect of not being able to eat solid food, so I lost weight. Working at the student store was another easy was to distract myself from eating lunch. Even my boyfriend breaking up with me was fuel for the fire. I was hurt and I thought the best revenge was to lose weight. If I could just be skinnier I would show how lovable I was. Even visiting my family was inspiration to lose weight...especially my dad. In my mind I would be more beautiful, more perfect, more lovable, if I was thin.
College brought a whole new world. Joining a sorority was amazing in many ways, but horrible for my already unhealthy relationship with food. Imagine living in a house with 100 pretty girls, all commenting on weight and striving to be thinner. Imagine the people you live with talking about disordered eating as if it was normal. I began to drink in college, but only shots of votka because then my stomach wouldn't expand much when I drank. I would restrict food all day if I was going to drink, to save the calories.
Dessert was a new temptation as well. I never had dessert in my home, so I certainly did not know how to eat it in moderation. I would try not to eat dessert when others were watching, but would sometimes go back to the kitchen and eat sweets when no one was around. Then I could avoid the shame of being so disgusting and out of control. At one point I was so disgusted that I had eaten several helpings of dessert that I tried to throw up. I only did this for a few months, and I was smart enough to know it wasn't going to get rid of the calories. But it was a challenge to myself that I had it in me to get the food out. But I also felt out of control and guilty that I couldn't restrict. I would way rather be anorexic than bulimic. Sticking your fingers down your throught is not as easy as I imagined...especially when you're trying to hide it from the women you live with. While I tried to hide it, I also heard other girls talk about throwing up, so I didn't think it was that bad.
My big breakup in college had the bonus of making me so upset I didn't have an appetite. I thought, at least I am getting skinnier because of all this pain. Every few months after our second breakup my ex would call and want to get together. Even if I only had a week, I would restrict as much as I could before seeing him. If I was thin I was showing him.
I am not entirely sure what happened to bring me to where I am today. The summer after graduation I began to relax a bit more about what I ate, but the thoughts were still there. "How sick am I for eating nachos." Gradually during graduate school I began to uncover the many factors that added to my food issues. My mom, and two aunts had eating disorders. My family is CONSTANTLY talking about food and weight. My mom is a nazi about every aspect of food. No preservatives, food coloring, gluten, dairy, sugar, etc. Perhaps most of all I am a perfectionist. I am a perfectionist about most things, but especially about my appearance (perhaps a throwback to my Oklahoma roots). As my therapist has forced me to see, these are the rational explanations. There are a million other factors. There is a flood of emotions, completely irrational, that overwhelmed me for years. My body and food were something I could control myself, unlike most things in my life.
As I approach the end of graduate school I am at a place of peace. It wasn't there when I started school, but it is a part of me now. I have stopped writing down everything I eat. I let myself eat dessert without guilt. I can tell when I am hungry and full, and eat accordingly. I can usually look in the mirror and see a beautiful body. I now know my worth and how lovable I am does not depend on my weight. I am so much more.
I hope to take my years of struggle and turn them into something good. I want to help women like me. I like to think that I didn't spend half of my life consumed by the obsession to be thin in vain. I think it had a purpose in my life. That I can use it as a therapist to bring true compassion and empathy to my work. I like to think that everything happens for a reason.
During middle school I didn't understand that calories are what cause weight gain, I thought it was all about fat grams. I would eat 20 grams of fat a day, and punish myself with eating only 5 if I went over one day. As my mom started to notice she got more controlling about what I ate. This only fueled my obsession. I threw away lunch items she sent with me, and supervised her cooking so she didn't add oil or butter to my food.
In high school I discovered calories and sugar, and my obsession grew. Friends noticed my odd food habits and commented frequently. I was "that girl." The one they called "anorexic," even though I wasn't. I was never quite sure if they were concerned or jealous. Their comments embarrassed me and made me proud at the same time. Embarassed at the attention, but proud I had the self control. Breaking my jaw came with the welcome side effect of not being able to eat solid food, so I lost weight. Working at the student store was another easy was to distract myself from eating lunch. Even my boyfriend breaking up with me was fuel for the fire. I was hurt and I thought the best revenge was to lose weight. If I could just be skinnier I would show how lovable I was. Even visiting my family was inspiration to lose weight...especially my dad. In my mind I would be more beautiful, more perfect, more lovable, if I was thin.
College brought a whole new world. Joining a sorority was amazing in many ways, but horrible for my already unhealthy relationship with food. Imagine living in a house with 100 pretty girls, all commenting on weight and striving to be thinner. Imagine the people you live with talking about disordered eating as if it was normal. I began to drink in college, but only shots of votka because then my stomach wouldn't expand much when I drank. I would restrict food all day if I was going to drink, to save the calories.
Dessert was a new temptation as well. I never had dessert in my home, so I certainly did not know how to eat it in moderation. I would try not to eat dessert when others were watching, but would sometimes go back to the kitchen and eat sweets when no one was around. Then I could avoid the shame of being so disgusting and out of control. At one point I was so disgusted that I had eaten several helpings of dessert that I tried to throw up. I only did this for a few months, and I was smart enough to know it wasn't going to get rid of the calories. But it was a challenge to myself that I had it in me to get the food out. But I also felt out of control and guilty that I couldn't restrict. I would way rather be anorexic than bulimic. Sticking your fingers down your throught is not as easy as I imagined...especially when you're trying to hide it from the women you live with. While I tried to hide it, I also heard other girls talk about throwing up, so I didn't think it was that bad.
My big breakup in college had the bonus of making me so upset I didn't have an appetite. I thought, at least I am getting skinnier because of all this pain. Every few months after our second breakup my ex would call and want to get together. Even if I only had a week, I would restrict as much as I could before seeing him. If I was thin I was showing him.
I am not entirely sure what happened to bring me to where I am today. The summer after graduation I began to relax a bit more about what I ate, but the thoughts were still there. "How sick am I for eating nachos." Gradually during graduate school I began to uncover the many factors that added to my food issues. My mom, and two aunts had eating disorders. My family is CONSTANTLY talking about food and weight. My mom is a nazi about every aspect of food. No preservatives, food coloring, gluten, dairy, sugar, etc. Perhaps most of all I am a perfectionist. I am a perfectionist about most things, but especially about my appearance (perhaps a throwback to my Oklahoma roots). As my therapist has forced me to see, these are the rational explanations. There are a million other factors. There is a flood of emotions, completely irrational, that overwhelmed me for years. My body and food were something I could control myself, unlike most things in my life.
As I approach the end of graduate school I am at a place of peace. It wasn't there when I started school, but it is a part of me now. I have stopped writing down everything I eat. I let myself eat dessert without guilt. I can tell when I am hungry and full, and eat accordingly. I can usually look in the mirror and see a beautiful body. I now know my worth and how lovable I am does not depend on my weight. I am so much more.
I hope to take my years of struggle and turn them into something good. I want to help women like me. I like to think that I didn't spend half of my life consumed by the obsession to be thin in vain. I think it had a purpose in my life. That I can use it as a therapist to bring true compassion and empathy to my work. I like to think that everything happens for a reason.
No comments:
Post a Comment