When I met with my psychiatrist recently, I pointed out that he had put “anorexia, unspecified type” in my chart. I clarified that I had “restricting type”. (There also exists “purging type”, where a person may eat to fulfill their body’s needs but then purges afterward. This differs from bulimia in that a person with purging-type anorexia does not binge.)
My psychiatrist said that he would change it in my chart, but he brought up a great question—why does it matter? Similarly, I have worried that if I bring up the fact that I have struggled with an eating disorder, people will assume I’ve struggled with binge eating due to my size. I have felt the need to specify that I am recovering from anorexia, and until recently, I did not question why this seemed important.
I am very open about my struggles with anorexia. Not only does that help protect myself from some of the harmful talk and attitudes, but I feel that it also encourages and normalizes discussion of mental health issues in general and eating disorders in particular. I realize, however, that encouraging people to understand and support those with anorexia is only the first step.
I have done a small bit of advocacy work. I’ve fought for accommodations for people in larger bodies and I’ve generally tried to learn what I can so I can be more mindful of others. I have also rearranged my own office to turn it into a safe and welcoming environment for all, which I believe is crucial in terms of supporting others.
Connecting people with a variety of eating disorders (ARFID, binge-eating disorder, anorexia, orthorexia, and perhaps others) with professional support has felt very important, and I’ve done my best to support people in my own way.
I have several very close friends who binge eat at times. After talking with them, I have a much better understanding of some things might lead to a binge and why some people might binge. Just as I don’t claim to speak for all non-binary people, I understand that I cannot lump everyone who binges into one category. However, having a better understanding of some commonalities of those who binge, as well as some specifics in terms of my friends, has felt really enlightening and given me insight into something that feels both familiar and foreign to me.
Like some people who binge eat, I sometimes restrict my food intake, denying my body the nutrients it needs. My body often rebels by giving me a headache, which I know I can alleviate with some food. I have historically tried to eat the least amount possible to satiate the hunger, but I’m working on “eating with my body and not with my brain”. Less restriction could help me feel better and allow me to learn what my body really needs. It could also lead to fewer situations where I feel like I have to eat a lot to counter the hunger. It’s nowhere near a binge, but it still makes me uncomfortable to need so much.
Their bodies, on the other hand, might rebel by sending hunger cues so strong that they feel overwhelmed and they eat far more than usual.
How can I believe we are so different? Why does society believe that?
People who only restrict are often praised for it, getting compliments for denying their bodies the food that they need. People who sometimes binge, on the other hand, seem to be viewed as “less than”. People may understand that anorexia is a mental illness, and while some people will tell someone who’s anorexic to “just eat”, I think more and more people are realizing that it’s not that simple. So why would we expect a simple “eat less” or “don’t binge” to be helpful?
I think some of that is society’s anti-fat bias. We may see anorexia as a problem caused by trauma or a misguided attempt to please others. Perhaps there’s an element of caring, and an acknowledgment that a person is not to blame for their anorexia.
Binge eating, on the other hand, is too often viewed as a “lack of discipline”, or perhaps people make no effort to understand the whole person. I think many people see binge eating or being in a larger body as the person’s “fault”.
There are so many similarities: both groups are not listening to their bodies. So why would society accept and care for one group, but reject the other?
Bringing it back to myself, I tell those I know who binge eat that I love and support them, and I note that their binge eating has no bearing on our relationship. I point out that they aren’t “wrong” for bingeing, that I don’t judge, that this is not a weakness of character. If they’re larger, I try to remind them that it’s the world that sometimes doesn’t accommodate them, rather than framing it as them not fitting into this biased world and society. They are not at all defined by these characteristics, but neither do they have to hide them and feel ashamed.
How, then, can I say and believe such things about others while denying them about myself? I am terrified that people might judge me for being too big or for eating too much. They might. But why does that matter? Why am I so afraid of something that I tell my friends isn’t wrong?
If I support my friends and say that I don’t judge them, then it seems right to stop specifying my eating disorder. If it comes up, that’s fine, but I don’t need to insist that I don’t binge. I need to “practice what I preach” and not see anorexia as “better” or “safer” than binge-eating disorder.