ORTHOREXIA: HOW MY PURSUIT OF “HEALTH” RESULTED IN AN ED
Written by Sophie Smith
I was the last person I expected to get an eating disorder. But it still happened to me.
My eating disorder started when I was in Year 10 and was probably triggered by multiple factors, but the one I remember most distinctly was having to weigh myself in PE class as part of our fitness testing. I noticed that I was gaining weight but not getting any taller and because I had internalised diet culture messaging and felt I had to look a certain way to be acceptable, I was scared of becoming ‘overweight’.
Somewhat suddenly, I decided that I would lose some weight so I wouldn’t become ‘unhealthy and overweight’. But what started out as a relatively harmless idea quickly became obsessive and took over my life.
My eating disorder was a ravenous weed that rapidly grew and overran the beautiful garden that was my life before, stretching into areas of my life that weren’t even related to food or exercise and handing me a never-ending list of rules to follow.
Within a few months, I was weighing myself all the time, obsessed with exercising ‘enough’, and restricting my food. I started engaging in orthorexic behaviours and was terrified of eating ‘unhealthy’ food, because I genuinely thought it would harm me. As someone with a ‘Type A’ personality, my eating disorder gave me a sense of control and achievement, a reassurance that I was ‘doing things right’.
At first, I could only see the benefits that my eating disorder gave me, and no one around me noticed anything was wrong because I was still able to function in all areas of my life. I was a high-achieving student and loved dancing, and I could still go to dance class and was receiving good marks. Time passed, and I graduated high school as one of the top students in my year; things continued as usual. I moved interstate to university and once again was an outwardly happy young person with my whole life ahead of me. But then the darker chapters started.
After three or four years, my eating disorder started affecting my life to the point where I wasn’t okay with it anymore and I wanted things to change. I was diagnosed with Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD) – a chronic autoimmune condition that I’m sure was at least partly caused by the huge amount of stress I was putting on myself. I lost my period, I felt very cold in winter, my hair got thinner, and one year my fingernails were so brittle they started falling off.
My relationships suffered because I was such a difficult person to be around – constantly anxious, stressed and often in a bad mood because I felt guilty or scared. I’d project these negative emotions onto those around me, especially my family who would have to deal with them.
At this point, I knew my problem was more than just ‘being super health conscious’, and I didn’t like the person I was becoming – seemingly selfish, stressed and often miserable. At the same time, however, I felt compelled by a voice in my head, and I couldn’t stop the thoughts and behaviours that were not true to me. I was scared of what would happen if I let go.
My eating disorder ended up sucking a lot of the joy out of my life and, when I was 19, I began to acknowledge I had a problem. Again, no one around me was greatly concerned because I was never “underweight” and was secretive about my thoughts and behaviours. On the outside, I was fine, but secretly, I was fighting a battle inside my head every day.
At the end of 2017, I decided to seek help and see if something was wrong. That year I started to experience occasions where I felt out of control around food, a new experience that was really distressing for my restrictive eating disorder. To this day, I still remember the exact moment when the lightbulb went off in my brain and I decided to get help. I was sitting on a plane on the way back from a short holiday with my mum and sister and I just started to think, “Do I really want the rest of my life to be like this? So confined and driven by rules and ‘shoulds’? Maybe my relationship with food isn’t normal?”
To be completely honest, before that point I thought that everyone was doing what I was doing in order to be ‘healthy’. But my relationship with food had become an enormous obstacle to living a fun and happy life and it was exhausting to maintain. A few days after that realisation, I saw a nutritionist who referred me to a psychologist specialising in eating disorders. I had my initial appointment with the psychologist and from that day on, despite the overwhelming fear of the unknown, I committed to recovering from my eating disorder.
Today, four years later, I’m proud to say I’ve recovered from my eating disorder, and I’m using my lived experience to help advocate for others struggling with eating disorders. I’m a speaker with The Butterfly Foundation and regularly engage in advocacy work including media, podcasts, and consulting on projects.
This may sound cliché, but I’m a whole different person than who I was during the depths of my eating disorder.
It’s like my eating disorder cloaked who I was for five or six years, becoming my identity and forcing me to present a façade. Through recovery, I’ve managed to pull the cloak off and reclaim my authentic self who was waiting for me underneath all along.
In recovery, I’ve become more generous and although the underlying traits of perfectionism and a need for control remain, I’ve learnt to channel them in healthier ways. Although I wouldn’t wish an eating disorder on ANYONE, I also wouldn’t change my experience because as part of my story I’ve been able to reclaim and find meaning in it.
My life looks completely different now and things I never thought possible during my eating disorder are part of my daily life. I can eat whatever I want, whenever I want; make plans spontaneously; and be fully present in moments want to remember. I feel like myself again. I’ve kicked my eating disorder out of the driver’s seat of my life and put myself back in it.
Now, I decide how I want to live. If you are currently struggling with symptoms of an eating disorder, I want you to know that your struggle is valid, and that recovery is possible. Recovering from an eating disorder like orthorexia in a culture that is obsessed with appearance, weight and health isn’t easy. But I want to tell everyone that, even though it is difficult, there is hope, and we must work to ensure everyone has access to life-saving, identity-affirming treatment.
Sophie Smith (she/her) is an eating disorders advocate, lived experience advisor and speaker with The Butterfly Foundation in Australia. After somewhat stumbling into advocacy work in 2019, she is now extremely passionate about raising awareness around eating disorders and doing her part to smash diet culture. She is currently finishing her master’s degree in Social Work and studying her Carolyn Costin Institute recovery coaching certification. She aspires to work in the eating disorders and help others recover. She has consulted on projects including the Australian National Eating Disorders Research and Translation Strategy and National Eating Disorder Credential for professionals, and has also been in the media, on podcasts and given talks about her personal experience. She is a huge advocate for social justice, intuitive eating and the Health At Every Size paradigm. Outside of advocacy, Sophie loves dancing, watching TV with her twin sister and is a massive Taylor Swift fan. You can follow her on Instagram and Twitter @SophieClare1103.