Changing in locker rooms, at camp, at sleepovers my entire life I would usually hear some kind of variation on “Ugh, I wish I was as skinny as you.”
I am privileged in that I have never struggled with my weight, and society has always rewarded me for it.
But here’s the thing: societal beauty and weight standards are destructive for everyone.
I have anxiety. Actually, I have lots of anxiety — four different anxiety disorders to be exact. Part of my anxiety is obsessive thoughts. My brain produces a couple specific thoughts that have taken root deep inside my sense of self. These are thoughts that have been there forever. These thoughts have influenced my behavior, made me lose sleep, made it impossible for me to get out of bed, made me feel like I have no control. They repeat on a loop in my head until I want to scream just to drown them out.
I can’t get rid of these thoughts, although I’m learning to stop them in their tracks. Within that process, I have begun to recognize the behaviors associated with each of my obsessive thoughts. And honestly, after 29 years of having anxiety, I JUST noticed that disordered eating is one of my symptoms.
Ok let’s back up.
Why is this privileged skinny girl complaining about societal body image standards?
What does OCD have to do with all of this?
Think about it this way:
I’ve heard my entire life that I’m lucky because I’m “skinny” > being “skinny” is the goal > I obviously have to stay “skinny” > people are going to judge me if they see me eating like I’m not “skinny” > my brain with OCD > think about this every time I eat > stop eating in front of people.
Or this way:
Society reinforces the idea that I have worth if I just “stay skinny” > my anxiety gets triggered by something unrelated that I can’t control > my brain with OCD > obsessive thoughts over food (which I can control) feel safer than obsessive thoughts over things I can’t control > ignore your hunger > control your body > control restored > heartbeat returns to normal > stop eating
Then, after I stop eating for a while, I start developing anxiety when I go to eat at all. I’ll take a couple bites, trigger my anxiety, get nauseous, push my food away. In this way, my anxiety doubles down on my disordered eating behaviors and it feels like there’s very little I can do to get out of the cycle.
If you are a friend or family member and you’re reading this, please don’t freak out. The good news is I’m obviously working on this. Talking about my disordered eating has been difficult because of the privilege I know I have, but opening up about it has helped. I have an amazing, talented, knowledgeable partner who is trained in fitness and nutrition, and who always has my back. I have a support system that keeps me anchored in my worth, tethered to the knowledge that I am worthy of love regardless of how I look. I am grateful for the privilege I do have.
And, disordered eating needs to be a part of the larger conversation we have around mental health and eating disorders. We need to be more conscious of the ways we use language around weight. We need to examine our implicit biases with weight before speaking. We need to be conscious of the way we speak about weight, and ask ourselves if our words are productive, or if they perpetuate unhealthy bodyweight standards. We need to put more energy into self love.
And we really really really need to stop comparing ourselves to one another.
An Experiment with Vulnerability 
Its great that you have felt able to speak out about some of your experience and how your brain processes certain things. I’ve had a turbulent time with food, especially as a teen and I become obsessed with being skinny. Whilst I’ve gone some way to improve my relationship with food, I still have those moments, which can largely be affected by something somebody says.
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