let's remember that beauty at any size really means beauty at ANY size

It’s a common presumption in our society that if you’re female, tall and skinny, you have it all. You are the perfect woman: you have the attributes of a high fashion model, and you should be extremely self-confident because you have it made. The truth, however, is much different.

When I was younger, I was bullied for five years because of my height and weight. “Oh they’re just jealous because you’re tall and skinny,” my well-meaning family members would say. “They just want to be like you.” But they didn’t want to be like me, because I was miserable beyond belief and the bullying was making me pick out tiny little things about myself that I hated. One by one, I listed off all the many things I hated about my body, and when I attempted to think of something I liked about it I came up empty. You’re a girl, and tall, and that’s wrong was the message I took away from the experience. Even now, years later, the pain and insecurities that resulted from that bullying continues to impact my self-confidence, which has never been anything to write home about anyway.

But although the bullying has (thankfully) stopped, it seems that many people still take issue with my physical appearance. For example, a short time ago I was with my friend visiting her mother at her workplace. Her mother has always been on the large side and, according to my friend’s reports of her constant dieting and general attitude towards her weight, unhappy with her own body image. I was aware of all of these things, but I wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of accusations that came spewing out of her mouth upon meeting me.

“You are so skinny!” she exclaimed, eyeing me warily, “How do you stay so thin? I bet you don’t eat anything do you? Do you eat?” She laughed as she continued to ask me exactly what it was that I ate. Shocked that I’d just been accused of basically starving myself by my friend’s mother, I tried to explain that in actuality I eat like a horse and that I just have a very fast metabolism and fairly thin parents. But I could tell her mind had been made up and that she had decided that because I was skinny, I must starve myself.

A similar situation occurred the last time I paid a visit to my doctor. It was just a quick annual check-up to see how the medicine I was on was working, so I wasn’t nervous. I knew the drill — I’d sit down, be asked a few questions then be out of there in five minutes with a renewed prescription. But this particular time my usual doctor was on holiday, so I had an appointment with a doctor I’d never seen before, or, should I say, a doctor who’d never seen me. She seemed to stare curiously at me as I sat down. She asked all the usual questions and I replied that everything was fine. I figured I’d be out of there soon when she said, “I just want to weigh you.” What? I’d never been weighed before, especially not for a simple repeated prescription. Reluctantly, I stepped on to the scale. “Oh, you’re a bit underweight for your ideal BMI,” she tutted, clearly concerned. This was news to me as I never weighed myself. I didn’t want to become one of those obsessive girls who goes into cardiac arrest should she gain a little weight.

“Do you have any problems with eating?”

“No,” I replied. “I actually eat loads. My sister’s really small too. It must be a genetic thing.”

“Do you eat three meals a day?” She asked the same question again with different wording.

“Yes! I eat fine.” I was starting to get irritated. Did this woman think I was stupid or just lying?

“Can I ask your mother?”

So she did think I was lying. She thought I didn’t eat three meals a day, as I’d just assured her several times. Looking back, I should have gotten very angry. I should have stated that I am perfectly capable of judging my own eating habits and telling the truth. In reality, I just sat there gob smacked, as my mum assured her of what I’d just tried to tell her multiple times. The difference was that the doctor was satisfied with my mother’s answer. In retrospect, the doctor was being unprofessional and judgmental by insinuating that I was lying to her. As a naturally thin vegetarian who exercises regularly and eats well I have a better understanding than anyone of my health without any kind of tests or further information. Additionally, my weight had absolutely nothing to do with the reason for my appointment.

What I’m getting at here is just because someone is tall, thin and female, does not make them a happy, respected and confident human being. We’re not all models. We don’t think we’re superior to everyone else. It also seems to be an assumption that our lives must be easier just because of what we look like when in fact we have our fair share of problems, too. The mental scars of bullying due to my appearance will always taunt me, and sometimes I just feel down right awful about my height and weight. The only benefit is that now that I’m older and wiser, I can combat these rigid beliefs about weight and health and help open people’s eyes to the fact that I’m a healthy, tall, skinny, and, most importantly, a normal human being.

It sickens me that one of the most common issues plaguing young females today is that of body image distortion.

I say this as a person who once hated her body so much she welcomed the idea of going to extremes to obtain perfection. Whether it was by starving, purging, or over-exercising, if it “guaranteed” perfection, I would do it. It never occurred to me that the perfection I had in mind would never be obtainable. Nor did I realize that recovery would be a life-long struggle to relearn what it felt like to be full.

A year ago, I decided it was time that self-loathing relinquished its firm grip on my life. I did not consult a psychologist because I thought of my recovery as a journey I would need to take on my own, and I did just that. But this process has hardly been an easy one, for it required that I delve into personal issues and questions that I had previously, purposely, been avoiding.

The first question I had to ask myself, and possibly the most important one, was why and when did my self-loathing initially start. And the silly thing is, it all started when I fourteen years old, standing in the girl’s locker room, watching and listening to other girls compare their bodies to each others’. They were pinching the non-existent “fat” on their legs and bellies and exclaiming phrases like, “Ugh, I’m so fat. Look at my arms!” and “I have to work out more.” I, already a fairly thin girl, noticed that their legs were a smidgeon tinier than mine, and the idea that I was fat hit me like a bullet. The next few years of my life felt like a roller coaster ride that I couldn’t stop or get off of. By the time I had reached my bottom, I was literally and figuratively sick.

Today, the relationship between my mind and my stomach is incredibly unnatural. I have to set portion/caloric limits that I can neither exceed nor go under, and I still battle mentally over which foods to eat and which to forgo. I’ll never be able to replace the things I missed during the early years of high school, the experiences I never had because of my disorder, and the opportunities that I passed up. But I will be able to carry on and look forward to what awaits me just around the corner.

I wanted to write this to all the young girls (and boys) who feel as though they are inadequate because of what they perceive to be status-crippling, physical flaws. Don’t sacrifice a chapter of your life for something as insignificant as looking good in a pair of tight jeans. You are worth much more than that. Be strong, be proud, be confident, and don’t give a shit about what others think about you. I don’t want you to spend what could be the most exciting years of your life hating what should be loved.

Looking back, I realize that I was never fat. Fat is just a word, not a personality trait, not a person’s defining feature, not something worth feeling heartbroken over. It took me years to come to terms with those truths, but I’m finally doing it. And I’m finally FINALLY embracing the two body parts that I love the most: my heart and my brain.

in the world of eating disorders...which type is worse?

There isn’t exactly a “name” for this topic so, here, i’ll try to spell it out for you. It’s a topic that affects me personally and deeply, but also something that is very rarely talked about in the eating disorder community (both on blogs & in treatment or with mental health professionals, and even with friends). Is Anorexia Nervosa a more serious, deadly, scary, real, or traumatic illness than Bulimia Nervosa or ED-NOS?

I’d be interested in what people’s gut-reactions are to this question.

I don’t mean the well-formulated answers that people think of, I mean the feeling that comes, the spark of thought that enters the brain or heart when this question is posed. (or when it is presented to your face- is there an image that comes to mind when this question is asked?)

I honestly am afraid of asking this question. I’m afraid of starting this conversation. Its one that I’ve never seen or heard out in the open, and I think it’s time that it’s brought to the table.

I, personally, as someone who has always had a “primary diagnosis” of bulimia, have always felt as though i need to “justify” to people that it is an actual illness, with physical consequences and harsh emotional ramifications, like anorexia, despite the fact that it often does not leave it’s sufferers looking deathly ill.
My first-ever example of this was the very day that my mother confronted me about my “vomiting” when she said:

“Well, I’m just glad you’re not anorexic, I mean, those girls are really crazy.”

At the time, I had wanted to jump out of my skin when I heard this and scream at her and lecture her on all the awful things running through my head, and how much I was tormented by this disease every day and every second, and could she please (f!#@ing) realize that this was serious, but of course I shushed myself and threw up to “swallow” my need to speak up.

I understand completely that part of this whole “complex” I have about bulimia not being considered as “serious” as anorexia has to do with my own eating disordered-mindset, and how I personally always feared that I was “not sick enough” as many sufferers do. I would really like to emphasize however, that this dilemma, I think, reaches beyond that personal “fear” and, I think, is actually a really serious problem that still exists (albeit ‘underground’) in the eating disorder “sphere”.

I honestly am astounded and appalled at the number of top New York City- area Eating disorder ‘specialists’ (usually with big titles & rather fat pay-checks to show for it) who have, in one way or another, implied to me (or to other patients or professionals) that weight & how someone looks and whether or not they have lost their menses is the most important factor in determining how “ill” someone really is. There was a psychiatrist at the first treatment center I was at who was almost notorious for telling bulimics that they didn’t really have a problem, that being bulimic was just what someone did if they “couldn’t be anorexic”. (This is a man who did his residency at Stanford University Hospital under world-renowned eating disorder researchers).

I’d like to look at the researchers, and ask why there is always much, much more research done on Anorexia than Bulimia? Why when I type either one in on PubMed do I get over 22,000 results for anorexia and a less than 7,000 results for bulimia?
Why, when I visit a website that advocates for Maudsley (or Family-based treatment) is there a video on the front page about how to treat Anorexia whereas I have to search for information about treating Bulimia? I say this not to be a nit-picky complainer, but because these subtleties are important. This is how we are taught, in school, to read between the lines and to pick up on the editors’ (or writers’ or poets’ or artists’) message, to understand what is really being fed to us and to be conscious, educated consumers of information.

Why do I always find more blogs that are written by women/men recovering from Anorexia (or some {often restricting} form of ED-NOS) than Bulimia?

Is it shame?

Is it more shameful to say “I was bulimic” than to say “I was anorexic” ? Do you want my honest answer?

Honestly, I think it IS slightly more shameful.
I hate saying that i was bulimic.
It seems like it’s the difference between saying: Hello, yes, I used to stick my fingers down my throat all the time and I wasn’t even skinny! or Yes, I starved myself, and my sick body looked similar to that of one of the highly paid fashion models who represent a sick & twisted beauty standard that is idealized in a very confused culture.

What would you rather say?

I’d like to clarify a few things, so that I am not hated by all the wonderful people who decided to read this blog.

I am not trying to say that being bulimic is harder than being anorexic, or anything RIDICULOUS like that. I am talking about the way in which culture (and yes, even our insulated culture in the eating disorder world- meaning those who are even EDUCATED & EXPERIENCED in the eating disorder field) tends to still idolize, or idealize, or freak out about Anorexia more often and more strongly than it does Bulimia. This is separate from a persons personal experience of either illness, and is about how they are talked about & treated.

Also, that being said, many (and I mean MANY) of my best friends (from treatment) suffered from Anorexia. I relate to and respect them, their struggles and their strengths, and talk to them about everything & anything under the sun and I love them to pieces. Many of the ED related blogs that I read are written by people who are recovering/recovered from Anorexia. This opinion that I am sharing has nothing (and i mean NOTHING) to do with how I relate to other ED sufferers in the world, it is simply a cultural nuance that disturbs and perplexes me.

I’m not trying to blame anyone. I wanted to bring this up because it affects me personally, and I feel very strongly about it and have never really had a platform on which to speak about it. I want us to move forward in the ED world, and learn how to move past “undercurrent” issues like this, so that there are no latent stigmatizations or unspoken judgements that are not out in the open, so that EATING DISORDERS are the only battle that we have to fight.

Rose also writes for her own blog Girl Spins Madly On

the eating disorder awareness week poster from 2004

No, the title of this post is not the most uplifting thought in the world. But it’s an issue that’s plaguing my peers and isn’t going away any time soon. Scratch that, it’s not just an issue, or something that haunts insecure teenagers with nothing better to think about than themselves. Eating disorders are life threatening illnesses caused by dangerous pressures and behaviors that need to be addressed.

I see this every day at my school in a vast spectrum of ways. I saw it just the other day in the bathroom at school (such a cliche but shit seriously does go down in the bathroom…). This girl that I don’t know very well came up beside me at the mirror. She’s a talented athlete and somebody I considered, at least from a far, to be confident and sure of herself. “Oh my god, I look so fat today,” said this girl, probably around 5’6″ and 115 pounds. “You definitely don’t,” I assured her. She smiled, but she smiled in the same way that I smile when I feel fat and somebody assures me that I’m not. Yeah right, you think, so the fact that I wouldn’t look out of place in a maternity clothing store is all in my head? I don’t think so. I can’t even say why she felt this way, or how serious it was – but even in somebody I considered to be confident, the bad body image was there. And that is definitely not even on the bad end of cases I’ve seen.

We’ve all felt fat. I have definitely felt fat, but have never gotten to the place where I feel so desperate and overwhelmed that I’ve turned to an eating disorder. But the real problem is, on some level this is a universal experience.

I’ve decided to contribute to this week by raising awareness on this site. So many people don’t understand what having an eating disorder means or truly entails. Ignorance breads stigmas, stigmas don’t help anybody. So here is some information about eating disorders: (all information from the National Eating Disorders Association)

Terms and Definitions

Anorexia Nervosa
Anorexia Nervosa is a serious, potentially life-threatening eating disorder characterized by self-starvation and excessive weight loss.

Binge Eating Disorder
Binge Eating Disorder (BED) is a type of eating disorder not otherwise specified and is characterized by recurrent binge eating without the regular use of compensatory measures to counter the binge eating.

Bulimia Nervosa
Bulimia Nervosa is a serious, potentially life-threatening eating disorder characterized by a cycle of bingeing and compensatory behaviors such as self-induced vomiting designed to undo or compensate for the effects of binge eating.

Factors That Contribute to Eating Disorders

While eating disorders may begin with preoccupations with food and weight, they are most often about much more than food. NEDA acknowledges there may be a difference of opinion among experts and the literature on this topic and we encourage readers to explore the topic further, using all means available to them. Such factors include psychological issues such as low self-esteem, depression, anxiety or loneliness; relationship issues such as a history of being teased, sexual abuse, or troubled personal relationships; social factors such as cultural pressures and norms, and even biological factors such as genetics and chemical imbalances (scientists are still researching these possibilities).

To learn more, click here.

Quick Facts

In the U.S. eating disorders are more common than Alzheimer’s disease (10 million people with eating disorders as compared to 4 million with Alzheimer’s). Yet funding for eating disorder research is approximately 75% less than that for Alzheimer’s.

The average direct medical costs for treating eating disorder patients in the United States alone is currently between $5-6 billion per year, where as the global cost of any psychotic medication is $7 billion per year.

Anorexia nervosa has the highest premature mortality rate of any psychiatric disorder. The majority of deaths are due to physiological complications.

***

I know this issue is incredibly personal, but I find the best way to learn about something is to hear it through stories – first hand accounts and perspectives. If anybody is brave enough, I think it’d be great if we could share stories about this issue. I think talking about it is truly the best way to spread awareness.