A Sensitive Subject

TW: body image

What a tough subject to touch on. How do I even begin?

We all have one.

We all judge them.

We nearly all hate our own, and admire others.

Body image begins being a topic of conversation, or thought thereof starting as early as middle school, for most girls.

Probably even earlier now.

My family used to hug me and say “you’re all skin and bones!”

“You need to eat more.”

“Are you eating?”

“Oh gosh you’re even skinnier than I remembered!”

I didn’t even recognize I ever had an eating disorder until this past year, while working on recovering.

I’d be up late, laying on my back, feeling how prominent my hip bones were and how empty my stomach was googling how to calculate my body mass index, to determine if (or how) underweight I was.

I’d text my mom and ask “Do I look anorexic? Am I anorexic?”

I’d ask my friends “But am I skinny like her?” Any time I saw an extremely frail girl. (Knowing I was just as part of the problem of body shaming by even asking that).

To which they’d reply “no, you’re skinny, but you’re proportionate”.

So being short meant it was okay to be under 90lbs for some reason.

My friends and I would build our dream bodies using one another. If only we had her boobs, your butt, those legs, and Amy’s stomach. My stomach was the only good thing I had to offer.

There was never enough time in the day to feel well rested. I could sleep 12 hour nights and still physically need a 2 hour nap, every. Single. Day.

Whenever my dad told me we were having burgers for dinner, I’d mentally prepare all day. I had to finish the whole burger. I had to eat at least two slices of pizza.

Or else they’re going to say I dont eat. And they’re not wrong.

Each bite would take me so long to swallow. I would start sweating.

Eating was a mental battle. Eating was exhausting.

Still, even with all of this, I was in denial.

I’d text my mom or say to my friends “but I don’t have an eating disorder because I’m not choosing to not eat. I’m not choosing to stay super skinny. I’m just not hungry, I just don’t need as much food as other people.”

Little did I know.

It was a revelation when I found out there are more eating disorders other than anorexia, bulimia, or binging.

It took me so long to admit I had an unhealthy relationship with food. I wasn’t anorexic because I didn’t have a motive to not eat food. It wasn’t for fear of gaining weight, or body dysphormia. I wasn’t bulimic, nor a binge eater.

Food and eating just gave me anxiety.

I couldn’t even finish a whole bagel. I’d always pretend to save things for later, and never got myself to look at it again.

My old friends joked with me “you always have a half eaten bowl of chipotle with you” or “its so fun being your friend because I get all your leftovers”.

They said it with no deeper meaning intended, but I would think about those comments for the rest of the day. Hell, I am still thinking about it obviously.

That’s because within three bites, I couldn’t bear to sit there anymore. To chew, to swallow, to enjoy.

I would feel starved, light headed, dying for food, and somehow be “satisfied” with 3 bites of whatever.

Even now, I dont have an answer for why.

But it was not a way to live, slowly fading away.

One moment that stuck with me since was when my friend Nydia very matter of factly said “You need to start taking care of yourself…. and eating. You’re always so fatigued and weak and it scares me”.

That was the first time anyone was ever upfront with me, with compassion and real concern. I thank her all the time for it.

This past weekend, I came over a huge milestone.

I handled raw meat, ground beef to be specific, and prepped it myself for dinner. Meatballs.

A full circle moment for teen Amy, who once swore off all ground beef and called it “little meats”. The simple thought of it used to make me gag. And now here I was, cooking it myself after craving spaghetti and meatballs.

But an eating disorder doesn’t just heal. My body image isn’t simply just perfect.

Now that I’d say I’m at a healthy weight, with Normal healthy eating patterns, it’s hard.

I look in the mirror and I see my thigh gap shrinking, my abs completely disappeared and my pant size growing.

I look back at old pictures and see a toned stomach, tiny waist and size 00 jeans (i can’t even imagine).

I have to constantly remind myself:

I’m healthy. I’m proud. I’m growing.

But anytime my friends or family say “you look healthy” or “you gained weight” or even “you look so great! You’re eating!”

I can’t help but overthink it.

Even though I have energy now, I have healthy hair, skin and nails, I’m not afraid of food, and I don’t have to worry if I’m harming my body, I still look in the mirror and feel unsure.

The worst part is, I’m not sure that feeling will ever go away.

Has it for you?

Hug your teen self today, she needs it.

And in case you need to hear it, your body is beautiful.

Be grateful for your health.

Move your body with love.

And treat yourself with compassion.

I love you and I love your body xoxo.

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Moral of the story: never comment on anyones body. The good, the bad, the questions, the judgements, the comparisons. You have no idea what silent struggles your loved ones may be going through on a daily basis.

When you call a skinny person, skinny its the same as calling a fat person, fat.

Unnecessary, probably damaging, and completely uncalled for.