Society is obsessed with weight loss. Part of my brain is, too, albeit I am well aware that there will be no number low enough on the scale to satisfy that part of me.
Anorexia nervosa is a poorly understood and mismanaged condition from my perspective as a health care professional and patient with lived experience. Society seems to glorify anorexia, and people compliment what may often be maladaptive behaviors (such as weight loss, “healthy” dietary restrictions, and excessive exercise) that are killing people inside and out. I’ll admit—I’m really “good” at weight loss, and I received a lot of praise for the behaviors that landed me in inpatient hospitalizations approaching death from starvation.
It’s currently the day after Thanksgiving as I write this, and I imagine there are a lot of conversations going on around food, exercise, and weight today. At least there will be in my family, which is why I no longer celebrate the holidays with them. Even nearly dying from anorexia nervosa has not been enough for my family to reclaim the narrative and shift the focus off of weight, calories, and exercise. I recently attempted to advocate for the shift, using my “I” statements as I had been instructed in therapy. If you know, you know. This resulted in a parent escalating and telling me that he is not responsible for my triggers.
Granted, I did not even use the word “triggers” in that discussion, but I will use it here. If this conversation is triggering to you, please do what you need to take care of yourself. Our triggers show us where we need healing. Though some of my family members choose not to care about being mindful of others’ triggers, even those close to them by blood, I do care how my words impact you. I know that triggers can be ubiquitous when living with conditions such as anorexia nervosa. I see you. I value you. I support the decisions you need to make that are best for you, and I am open to hearing if these words triggered you as I explore how to mindfully share my messages to optimize benefit while reducing the risk of harm. But I digress.
Food-focused holidays have been particularly challenging for me, as they bring up a lot around how much I struggle to enjoy things that used to bring joy and warmth. I did not always struggle with food, and I grieve the freedom I once had. Everyday life with anorexia is actually quite lonely in my experience, as so much of our socialization revolves around food. There seems to be no way that a person can truly understand anorexia unless they live with it. Tell me where I’m wrong if you feel differently.
I could talk about life with anorexia in depth, and it would be meaningful to my own healing and advocacy efforts to do so. If you have areas of discussion you wish to prompt, please let me know! Today, I will focus on my holiday wishes from the perspective of someone who lives with anorexia nervosa. This perspective is mine alone and from this time point in particular.
I may be speaking only for myself (I doubt it)… and for once… that is enough for me to proceed with sharing.
My holiday wish as someone who lives and nearly died from anorexia nervosa
May we all consider how our own relationship with ourselves and the way we communicate impacts others. I’m so over the obsession with negative food and body talk that has made holidays especially anxiety-provoking for many due to the fear of judgment and shaming around our body size and food decisions, which extends far outside of just the holidays.
May we meet each other with compassion, curiosity, and without judgment while grounding ourselves in love and connection. What are these holidays truly about? What actually matters to you?
May you know that you matter. You are valuable. You are lovable. How many calories you consume, how much you move, or what your body looks like does not and never will define our worth or value as humans, despite what societal messages and constructs suggest. Instead, I perceive the hyperfocus on food, exercise, and body talk as blocking us from the deeper connection, love, and safety we crave—at least it has for me.
Anorexia is a coping skill for me, just like other addictions. While I have experienced praise for the behaviors that threaten to kill me, others are shamed for their addictions that may be seen as less desirable. May we never judge (or inappropriately glorify) anyone for how they are trying to cope with life. Life is hard. May we go back to wish number two and offer ourselves and others compassion and curiosity without judgment while we navigate the ups, downs, and merry-go-rounds of being human. Compassion, curiosity, and non-judgment—these warrant repeating as we unlearn years of the opposite.
Jillian Rigert is an oral medicine specialist and radiation oncology research fellow.
