A PATHWAY TO FREEDOM
Written by Amber Stephens
My vision is blurred by tears each time I consider what I’m about to share. So I ask, please be gentle when you read it. It’s no easy thing to be open about. I’m doing it for those who know exactly what I mean, so that you know you’re not alone. Most of my family and friends know about the eating disorder I struggled with in high school. They know I graduated a month early to enter residential treatment and stayed for nearly a year. I still have every letter and card that was written to me.
Fewer people know that I went home and restarted the binge purge cycle almost immediately. I couldn’t cope with life without it. As I navigated normal yet incredibly difficult life decisions, bulimia was there to calm me. I became a barista, traveled doing volunteer work, and met and married my husband. We went to university together.
All the while, I binged and purged several times a week. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to stop. I desperately wanted to. I was honest with my husband and anyone who asked. I saw therapists and nutritionists when I could afford it. Nothing seemed to help. Toward the end of our degrees, we talked about having a baby.
I heard from a medical doctor and multiple sources online that many women are motivated to stop eating disorder behaviors when they get pregnant. Initially, this sounded like such fabulous news! I wish I could say that it was true for me. It wasn’t.
I had become a certified health coach and learned 200+ dietary theories during my university studies. I was eating all the “superfoods,” and “whole foods.” I didn’t think I was restricting calories, but sporadically kept track. The mental restriction of “unclean foods” caused binging, followed by purging, followed by severe hunger, followed by binging, etc. With the filling and emptying of my stomach, my body thought I was in the middle of a famine and it was doing everything it could to ensure I didn’t starve.
No one had ever explained the physical/biological aspect of the disorder to me. That knowledge later turned out to be the foundation on which I found the courage to stop the behaviors. At this point in my life though, I mistakenly believed that my eating disorder was solely a psychological/motivational problem. And if the life of a child inside me couldn’t motivate me to stop, I began to lose hope that I would ever heal.
My first two pregnancies were miscarriages. Although there was no medical indication that this was true, I worried that bulimia had caused them. I felt incredibly ashamed. Why couldn't I stop like they said I would? I became pregnant a third time and got past the point of risk for early miscarriage. Still, I didn’t have the knowledge or tools I needed to ditch diet culture or tolerate my feelings. I cared deeply about my baby and was concerned for her health. The guilt and shame were crippling. Because of that, I didn't share how bad it was with friends or family. Instead I went to prenatal yoga, a therapist, and a dietician.
Finally, in my third trimester, I decided to look into a higher level of care. Even though my bloodwork came back normal, I felt utterly exhausted both physically and emotionally. I was fortunate in accessing treatment: my healthcare providers saw through my “normal” labs and weight. They saw that I was struggling and needed help. I just had to disclose it and they believed me.
I admitted myself to the hospital about a month before I was due to deliver.
That day I wrote, “I’m not going to lie, I am afraid of what they’ll think of me... the other patients. I feel so huge. She hasn’t moved much today. I’m worried. Although, as I write, she perked up. I’m doing this because I’m exhausted. I hate who I’ve become - a shell of a person. I avoid community and church and my best friends. For my baby - I want to model a strong self-image and zeal for life. For my husband - I want us to build a supportive family and heal and strengthen our marriage. I want to connect with God and spirituality.”
I stayed in the hospital for 12 days. It was a small unit and my young roommate was lovely. It was surprising to see so many other adult patients on the unit. I remember there were two older adults aged 60+ and two moms of school-aged children. The diversity of age made me feel less self-conscious and reminded me of the vast differences in those with eating disorders. They gave me extra pillows to sleep with and allowed me to use the bathroom more than the others. We laughed a lot at my big belly when we did yoga or danced salsa.
This may be surprising, but I never minded the belly. I actually loved watching and feeling her limbs push up and roll across me. I was in awe of the miracle of life that was growing in my body. But I experienced a great deal of anxiety surrounding the idea of eating after the baby was born as well as hyperfocus on giving her optimal nutrition.
The day after I was discharged from the hospital, I was admitted to the adult partial hospitalization program at our local hospital. I couldn’t prioritize or apply the things we were taught there about expressing anger, cognitive distortions or challenging negative thoughts. Caring for my future newborn and myself physically had to be the priority and that was OK.
Nutrition was so important to me and so overwhelming at the same time. I started using a Food and Mood Journal on day two of my time in PHP, and it turned out to be the only tool I used after being discharged. Having a place outside of my head to organize the details of what and when I ate, as well as my emotional experience surrounding food made me feel secure. I was discharged from PHP five days before our baby was born.
There is an emerging body of research revealing the existence of reproduction-related brain plasticity in mothers. The dynamic changes that affect a woman’s brain are both adaptive, benefiting the transition into motherhood, and likely confer a vulnerability for the development of mental disorders (Barba-Müller et al. 2019).
Postnatal depression is a widely accepted condition. It's illogical to think that eating disorders will resolve themselves during this chaotic phase of life.
My hunch is that there are many folks struggling alone because they are ashamed. I still struggle with shame quite often. I have to keep reminding myself that I did the best I could with the tools I had. I’m proud that I didn’t give up and kept seeking treatment and freedom. I call the gift I’ve been given freedom because the healing is still happening. Maybe it will be forever and I’m OK with that.
My spiritual director recently reminded me that it wasn’t God alone who gave me freedom. I was also actively pursuing a way out. It was a collaboration. After another miscarriage and then the birth of our second child, I bought an at-home recovery program called the Bulimia Help Method. It taught me about the biological components of bulimia, and did reduce symptoms, but didn’t stop them all together.
A friend gifted me a "cook once, eat all week'' type of cookbook that I still use and has saved me so much time and stress. I started virtually seeing a dietician who is also a certified intuitive eating counselor. She and I talked about practical aspects and satisfying ways of eating rather than nutrition. At the same time, I started therapy with someone new. My therapist introduced me to Emily & Amelia Nagoski and through their work, I learned that I could tolerate emotions.
I stumbled across The Embodiment Conference online and listened to dozens of globally recognized embodiment teachers.
I learned that trauma is not what happens to us but what happens inside of us as a result of what happens to us. This knowledge allowed me to stop searching for the big traumatic event that caused the eating disorder and to feel and express compassion for myself for the first time I can remember.
I used birthday money to buy 8 weeks of horseback riding lessons, something I’ve always wanted to do. Monthly spiritual direction keeps me tuned into my values and helps me recognize the beauty and peace of God that I have been longing for. I devoured the book Intuitive Eating by Evelyn Tribole and Elyse Resch. I’m still in therapy and growing.
At first it did feel like a miracle...something clicked and I stopped the binge/purge cycle with no desire to ever return. But there was more to it than that. In addition to the environment and resources that I was privileged to access, I was reaching for answers and pushing past the shame and guilt.
Piece by piece I am building a place of safety within. Sometimes it feels self-indulgent. But I'm convinced that the more tolerance, compassion, and comfort I give myself, the easier it becomes to authentically give that to others. It's a painfully slow process. Maybe for all, but especially for parents as there is additionally so much to learn and unlearn about parenting. There seems to be little time to devote to the internal work that I'm talking about.
But the more self aware I become, the more present I seem to be with my family. And being present with them and to life is truly unsurpassable. The journey has been worth every ounce of effort. I know you're out there, parents with eating disorders. You are not alone and you can find freedom. Don't give up.
Sources:
Barba-Müller, E., Craddock, S., Carmona, S. et al. Brain plasticity in pregnancy and the postpartum period: links to maternal caregiving and mental health. Arch Womens Ment Health 22, 289–299 (2019). https://doi.org/10.1007/s00737-018-0889-z
Amber Stephens is a wife and mom of two incredible kids, 3 and 5 years old. Last year, she overcame the ultimate challenge. After 18 years, she stopped using anorexia and bulimia to cope with overwhelm, and now lives in her body. She feels her feelings, knowing she is strong enough to get through the tunnel without numbing out. She has a B.S. in Liberal Studies and is certified as a health coach. In addition to being present with her husband and little ones, Amber is studying Intuitive Eating with Evelyn Tribole and Elyse Resch.