EATING DISORDERS DO HAPPEN OVER THE AGE OF 40
Written by Teresa Schmitz
In my wildest dreams, I did not think I would be diagnosed with an eating disorder at my age. After all, I was just three weeks shy of my 46th birthday. At the time, I bought into the stereotype that eating disorders were only for young teenage girls. Yet here I was at The Emily Program, a national leader on eating disorder treatment, being assessed just three weeks before my 46th birthday.
A few weeks prior to this assessment, my general therapist told me I had an unhealthy relationship with food and suggested The Emily Program. When she said that, I just thought I did not have any willpower and did not know how to lose weight. I had been a perpetual dieter my entire adult life, never suspecting that it was anything less than my lack of willpower. And it was not the first time I was told I had an unhealthy relationship with food. My primary care provider had said this six years prior and then again when she was the provider overseeing the administration of a prescribed appetite suppressant the year before my eating disorder diagnosis.
At that time, and again when being assessed, I thought the problem was me and my body. “I just cannot seem to lose weight and control myself around certain foods” was the common theme running through my head at the time. All the medical providers I had seen prior to my eating disorder diagnosis, including a previous therapist, told me I needed to lose weight. It was a constant sentiment at nearly every doctor’s appointment.
“It’s easier to lose weight at age 40 than it is at age 50,” my long-standing gynecologist had said after starting menopause in my early 40s. I also heard her say it over ten years prior when I gave birth to my second child — “It’s easier to lose weight in your 30s than your 40s. Just ask your mom,” she said then.
I was celebrated when the weight was lost and shamed when the weight came back, even by the doctor who told me I had an unhealthy relationship with food.
When I was first diagnosed with binge eating disorder, I again thought I just didn’t have the willpower — that the problem was me and my body. I remember thinking, I must have answered one of those assessment questions incorrectly or the intake therapist must have heard me wrong when she asked me all those questions.
After receiving the diagnosis, it was suggested that I attend weekly therapy and dietitian one-on-one sessions, as well as Intensive Outpatient Programming (IOP). IOP would be four nights a week for three hours each night. I didn’t think I could do it. I had a life after all, yet in hindsight it was exactly what I needed.
I showed up to my first night of IOP thinking I was going to be put on “the” diet that would solve my years-long attempt at losing weight. I even asked my therapist, “What if I fail?” as if I was being graded on whether or not I lost weight. I was so dismayed about being diagnosed with an eating disorder because I believed the problem was me and my body. All my prior doctors had led me to believe this too.
On that first night of IOP, I was comforted to know that I was not alone and that there was hope for me. I was in the company of three other women, all middle-aged, who were also diagnosed with binge eating disorder. We each came thinking that the problem was us and our bodies.
It was a perpetual belief we each held about ourselves. We had all been successful at everything else in life, including our careers, except when it came to losing weight we said. We also each expressed similar fears, and at the same time, there was a glimmer of hope in those expressions during those first few sessions.
I would spend the next three years focusing on myself and my recovery, as if my life depended on it — because it did. I needed to end the yo-yo dieting cycle and get to the root of my eating disorder, which was essentially not feeling good enough or worthy. No diet or weight loss program could ever give me what I so deeply desired – unconditional love towards myself and a feeling of worthiness.
My recovery journey was like many others — lots of ups and downs. There were days when I felt like I could be striving towards recovery forever, and other days I felt like I had failed miserably. Yet on the hardest of days, I kept trudging along, putting one foot in front of the other. I had a hard time giving up weighing myself every day, yet I was able to do so.
I needed to learn, and believe, that I was not defined by some number on the scale.
Over these three years, I also learned to offer myself self-compassion (vs. bashing myself), to be more mindful (vs. being mindless), to have crucial conversations (called Dear Man in DBT skills therapy) with others (vs. avoiding them at all costs), and to move my body for joy (vs. for punishment) daily. I also kept a journal. I would write in the middle of a meal as something was triggered in me or before I needed to have a crucial conversation with someone. I would write after a therapy or dietitian session when I needed to further process on my own. Writing became an outlet for me.
I was proud to declare my recovered status nearly three years to the date of my diagnosis. It felt freeing, like all the hard work was worth it. I put in the work. I had changed how I saw myself and how I showed up in the world. I was searching for validation in material things (my job title, my income, my relationship status) to a much lesser degree now. I believed that I was worthy. I was living my life and no longer thinking me and my body were the problem!
For anyone diagnosed with an eating disorder at mid-life, I hope my recovery story can be a beacon of hope for you. You are so worthy of recovery and will thank yourself for putting in the work when you get to the other side too. It’s hard work for sure, yet so rewarding!
Teresa Schmitz (she/her) started her own coaching practice focused on empowering women to show up authentically and love themselves unconditionally no matter their size during her recovery journey from an eating disorder diagnosis at mid-life. Along her journey, she discovered that many suffer from body image issues, regardless of whether they have suffered from an eating disorder or not. Compelled to change how we view ourselves and our bodies, Teresa started her practice with the goal of empowering others to feel like she did when she recovered – My Best Self Yet! Thus, the name and brand was launched.
Teresa is an Associate Certified Coach through the International Coaching Federation (ICF). She is also a Sr Communications Manager, focused on change management, training and communications within a User Experience and Business Adoption team at a Fortune 250 company. She received her eating disorder treatment through The Emily Program and was a guest blogger for them for a few months last year. In her spare time, she enjoys spending quality time with those she loves, walking her nearly 5 year-old Goldendoodle pooch, Ollie, journaling, meditating, learning, reading, and occasionally trying out a new recipe in the kitchen. During pre-Covid days, she used to enjoy travelling and hopes to pick that up again soon! She is also planning to publish her first book, her recovery story, later this year. You can find her at www.MyBestSelfYet.com, on Instagram @my.best.self.yet or Facebook @MyBestSelfYet