Recovery & Motherhood
In celebration of Mother’s Day, we wanted to feature two mothers with parallel perspectives. Amira walks us through her current role as the mother of a teen with an eating disorder, and Sara writes on what being a young mother with an eating disorder may mean for her daughter. We know that this holiday can be very complicated for many, but our wish is that you may find some comfort and hope by reading Amira’s and Sara’s reflections.
A Mother’s Perspective
It was very tough in the beginning, and still is, but the first phase was by all means the most challenging. To accept the diagnosis, and then start asking questions like, “why”, “when”, and “how did this happen to my smart, brilliant, energetic and beautiful daughter?” Blaming yourself for not paying attention to the ‘signs’, or ignoring some of them. Asking myself “what did I do wrong?”
Then I realized that these questions were irrelevant and did not help my daughter.
The only question was: What can I do to help now?
We are still in the beginning of recovery. I don’t feel as if I am negotiating with my daughter, most of the time I am negotiating with “Ed.” Ed, the eating disorder that manipulates her. I know a part of my daughter’s recovery depends on my firmness as a parent. As the nutritionist reminds me: “We don’t negotiate meals.” Sometimes, it feels like I cannot break through. Right now, I’m just happy that she eats two meals and two snacks (even if she has to pre-approve them). This keeps her from deteriorating, but doesn’t mean she’s beat Ed yet.
My daughter knows that I am there for her, and that together we will beat Ed. I want to raise awareness to fight against diet culture and weight stigma. Our children – including my beautiful baby – deserve a full life that isn't focused on weight loss and food restriction.
Many people in my home country of Egypt believe that eating disorders are a rich person’s illness. To restrict food “by choice,” in a country where many are already poor and hungry, does not often get the right attention or sympathy.
It was difficult to explain to friends and family that what my 15 year-old daughter is suffering from is not a cry for attention, is not simply a phase, is not because she is in love or has a crush, and most importantly, is not because we have spoiled her.
I still find it hard to answer the question, “How is she doing today?” It is a long journey to recovery, and “today” is no longer a unit of measurement determining our family’s state of wellbeing. Instead, I shift to another unit of measurement like, “meals” so the question becomes, “How did the last meal go?”
That, I think, I can answer.
Amira Hussein
A Gender and Development Specialist and a woman’s rights advocate from Egypt, Amira is also a mother of two. She came to know project HEAL while looking for resources and information to help her understand eating disorders to better support her 15 year-old daughter’s recovery journey.
Unlabeled
Maybe she’s born with it,
maybe it’s unseen.
Invisible label,
tightly sewn inside,
anorexia itches to hide.
33, 20, or 17 -
relapse to residential
and everything in between.
These silent battles felt by me
are hard for me to let you see.
And yet, I share my wounds as offerings,
in the hopes you remain free.
My daughter,
this weight is not yours to carry.
Your story remains unwritten,
My story is not yours to wear.
There will be no hand-me-downs here.
While the words do not come easily,
as I still fear being seen,
more than anything I know this: the mind can be mean.
I tell you this with love,
not dressing anything up,
your mom was sick,
but she did not give up.
There’s no perfect way to say it,
as perfect doesn’t exist.
I was broken, am broken,
even masterpieces feel they need to be fixed.
My daughter, let me tell you this:
it is never too late to release inner hate.
When you start to doubt,
whatever you may face,
you are whole,
you are Grace.
So, I promise you,
when the voices grow loud,
I will stand with you to silence that crowd.
Your mother, I say with conviction:
your worth doesn’t wear a number,
this love knows no restriction.
Sara McCain
Based in Columbus, OH, Sara is a mom, wife, daughter, sister, friend, and volunteer. She’s spent the last decade working in Communications for companies in the public, private, and nonprofit sectors. Sara knows the unfortunate power and ripple effect of an eating disorder and is an advocate for mental health awareness. At the end of the day, she hopes by stringing words together she can generate more and contribute to a better future for her daughter, Grace.
