Being a former (always?) anorexic, I can’t really relate to the “I love my booty” craze.  Yet I have plenty of students who ADORE their ample bottoms!  I’m serious — the gals just 100% embrace their curviness in a way that makes me envious!
Have you ever felt that way about your derriere?  I know I just don’t look at mine with eyes of adoration… but wish I could!

At what point does the non-disordered eater whose life is affected by a disordered eater finally have to say “Enough is Enough”?
I have been fortunate enough that no ever gave me the ultimatum “It’s the eating disorder or me… your choice.”  However, I know this happens within many friendships, relationships, marriages and even families.
When does the person who cannot understand the desire behind withholding nourishment, ingesting massive quantities of food (only to purge it or starve it out later) or taking laxatives night and day simply shut down?  When does he or she say farewell?
Have you ever lost a friend, …read more

I may paint a seemingly-bleak picture of my eating disordered teen years, but as I look back, all was not terrible.  In fact, there were some reasonable times when I abandoned my anorexic ways for a few weeks… but I would always return to them.
Eighth grade, the first year of my “official” ana status (in my opinion), was exciting but always somewhat overwhelming.  I was quickly losing weight, but confidence in my appearance wasn’t occurring simultaneously.  That school year was definitely spent experimenting with different ways to starve, hide food, avoid eating, and the like.
The next year, ninth grade, was …read more

During the time I was most actively anorexic, a relative and her family came to visit us.The relative, a woman whose background was mental health (but who was not well-respected by our side of the family), told my mother she thought I was anorexic.
After the relative left, my mother confronted me, but not in the way that you’d think. She pooh-poohed what the relative had said, rolling her eyes when she told me.
Inside, I felt like shouting, “But I AM anorexic!”
I said nothing, of course.
And so the charade continued, undeterred.

I’m convinced that the topic of weight makes people turn into angry individuals.  It’s the weirdest thing.
For example, I was at the gym today.  Changing.  As I put on my shorts, a women in her late 40s/early 50s walked up to me.  When she was about a foot away from me, she said (very loudly), “And what are you?!?  A size zero or something?”  She wasn’t laughing, she wasn’t joking around.  She was… well… kind of mad. 
It was strange. 
Was she mad at me?  I wanted to tell her, “Hey, honey.  Chill.”  But instead I just shook my head in shock and answered, “No, …read more

(FYI: This is somewhat of a continuation of my last post…)
As I began to get heavier and heavier as a child (mid-to-late elementary school and early junior high), a remarkable thing happened–fewer and fewer pictures of me were taken by family members.  In fact, when I say that I was bigger than the average kid, many people don’t believe me… and I have trouble proving it.
Isn’t it telling that I have virtually no photos of me when I was at my largest?  It’s as if I had been erased by people around me who were embarrassed of my size…  That past, …read more

I was always chubby as a young child.  From about age six until age thirteen, I was definitely not skinny. 
And I was reminded of it everywhere I went.
People called me fat.  Or “pleasantly plump” (thanks a heck of a lot, relatives!)  And it hurt.  Oh, it hurt.
I can remember feeding that hurt with food.  I’d stuff my face and tears would run down my cheeks.  “Why am I so disgusting?” I would silently lament.  Yet I couldn’t seem to stop.
Then came the summer after seventh grade.  Something clicked.  I just stopped eating one week at camp and noticed my pants …read more

I had a thought recently (insert joke about blondes, et cetera, if you wish…)
I’ve always been particularly interested in the middle ages, and it occurred to me that there was quite a bit of self-mutilation during that period.  Most was done in the name of religion, though blood letting was a common “medical” practice.
Nuns, monks, monarchs, aristrocrats and laypersons would fast, would self-flagellate, would make themselves endure physical and mental “challenges”.  And when they did, they were honored for their fortitude, not treated as psychologically warped humans.  The middle ages was truly a time when someone who had what we would …read more

Twenty years ago, it was 1988 and I was anorexic.  I had an verbally and physically abusive boyfriend who loved to tell me I was fat and ugly.  I had no support system whatsoever. 
And I dreaded Christmas.
I would spend hours plotting how my Christmas activities with my family would go, right down to how much I would allow myself to eat, how many times I would chew my food, how I would “load up” on ice water during the meal and the many ways I could make a plate of food “disappear” without eating more than a couple of bites.  …read more

I need pants. 
I mean really desperately.  I think I have two pairs of jeans that fit and three pairs of professional pants that don’t make my rear look hideous.
But, see, I can’t get pants.
Nah, it’s not because of the economy.  It’s not even because I hate to shop in general (which is true).  It’s because I feel FAT today.  Really fat.  Like I’ve gained 20 pounds overnight.  Like my belly needs its own zip code.
And it’s all crap and just my head and my disordered eating and my messed up body image.  Yet knowing that doesn’t make it go away.
To …read more