NAVIGATING ED RECOVERY IN A LARGER BODY
Written by Lexie Manion
I once believed I needed to be skinny in order to be loved and accepted. I was often ridiculed for my higher weight as a child. Instead of help and compassion, I was met with shame, bullying, and weight-loss camp. My eating disorder especially reigned when I was a teenager, holding me captive until I met its demands: “Restrict x meals” and “If you eat, you have to purge”.
I was on a dangerous, obsessive path with my poor body image and weight loss goals that were dominated by my eating disorder. Even when I met my disordered goals, nothing would suffice. I was praised when I lost weight due to disordered behaviors: “You’re so skinny!” and “You look so much better now!”. The praise kept me perpetually stuck in my struggles, as I began to crave the attention and admiration.
Although I enjoyed the resounding praise, it was also confounded by the complimenter’s intentions; when I received praise, I continued to self-destruct.
As time went on, my eating disorder behaviors evolved. With the help and dedication of my therapist and team of supporters, towards the end of my high school career, I was able to drastically reduce purging. Then, I was able to reduce the restriction. I was then left with binge-eating from my restrict-binge-purge cycle; it was difficult for me to let go of binge-eating.
Binge-eating became a coping skill (albeit maladaptive) that soothed me. I felt motivated to recover and I did hard work in therapy, including DBT and CBT, throughout the years, but this behavior remained a great challenge for me to overcome. I gained back all the weight I had lost, and then some, in my young adulthood. In treatment for depression following a suicide attempt, my doctor was concerned about my rapid weight gain.
I was so incredibly shameful in my binge-eating and weight gain that I didn’t believe it was a struggle worthy of compassion or help due to how society often treats it. I kept it to myself. I felt out of control and very alone in this new development of my eating disorder.
I was no longer met with praise about my appearance. Messaging from society that I was “gross” and “unworthy” in my larger body and the pressure to lose weight dug me even deeper into the rut I was in.
Shame does not instigate positive, long-lasting change. When we shame people, for example into losing weight, we may very well enable and reinforce disordered behaviors. Around 2014 I began sharing my recovery from mental illness online. I then discovered the body positive and self-love movements. I was amazed by how people in bodies like mine were making peace with themselves. Becoming part of the online communities ignited my healing journey and gave me hope.
Now, I am a strong believer that our health and weight are our personal business. I learned that many people in larger bodies have struggled in some capacity with an eating disorder or disordered eating. And the opinion of those people who do not personally know the struggle, judge us, and show little regard for those living in larger bodies does not matter.
I try to remind myself I have these communities and close friends who understand “health” is not a prerequisite for respect — or even love. I am always on my health journey, as recovery is not a destination, and I am always working on prioritizing feeling better overall above “looking better” physically. To me, feeling better and feeling like my best self are the ultimate goals. Whether my physical appearance follows suit isn’t my sole focus or life’s purpose, as true wellness often starts within. What I feed myself mentally and how I cope with life’s problems and stressors is more telling of my recovery than anything else.
These days I meet myself with compassion. I treat myself gently and lovingly, like I would a good friend. It was much more difficult to recover in a larger body in many ways for me.
I felt like an outlier when I was in residential treatment for an eating disorder the second time at a larger size, as most patients were smaller. I felt misunderstood because much of the world saw me as “gorging on food” or “choosing to not take care of myself” (both untrue judgments), when in reality, I was struggling with a mental illness that deserves as much compassion and support as any other eating disorder.
Now I see binge-eating as synonymous with “trying to self-regulate” and “attempting to self-soothe”; seeing this highly misunderstood behavior through a compassionate lens helps me categorize it as something deserving of love, help and self-forgiveness. Having gained weight in recovery and continuing to share my recovery publicly online, I sometimes feel shamed into announcing how often I exercise or how much weight I’ve lost, as if everything is seemingly copacetic, in order to discourage strangers from shaming me.
What I have found is that I don’t owe my goals or recovery to anyone. Furthermore, no one’s life or recovery is perfect, so we must recognize that healing is not always linear, nor does it have to be. My worth is not measured on how much I exercise or how much weight I lose. My worth is constant.
I am doing well in life and recovery, and that is all that should matter; I no longer feel obligated to explain myself away. Requiring an explanation for our health is often enforced by those entrenched in fatphobic ideology who do not care about our mental well being or lives beyond looks. Those who love me and see beyond appearance know I am choosing recovery. My people respect where I’m at in my journey and love me just as I am.
We must work on accepting people of all sizes in this world, especially people in larger bodies in recovery from eating disorders. Struggling with an eating disorder can place us in a very fragile place. We must protect ourselves and the vulnerable from bullying and harassment surrounding one’s weight and appearance.
People in larger bodies are often shamed and hated for simply existing. We all want to be accepted and respected as we are. Let’s show compassion for ourselves and others as we grow into the human beings we are meant to be. We never know what battles people face just by looking at them.
Lexie Manion (she/her) is a writer, artist, student and mental health advocate. She writes about mental health and body acceptance topics, and shares her personal recoveries from mental illness. Lexie is working towards becoming an art therapist, as she has a deep love for creating art that reflects different emotions and experiences. She shares the messages that we are enough as we are and worthy of help. You can find more of her work at lexiemanion.com or follow her on Instagram at the handle @lexiemanion.
Image Credit: Maria Ponomariova