"Normalizing certain behaviors related to food has consequences."
It's always normalized for a teenager to be insecure about her body, so no one noticed anything unusual in my words or behavior. "It's just a phase," they told me. No, it wasn't just my age, and it meant many things in my life. The days grew weaker, and the light, little by little, faded.
I think I've often used food as emotional support —something that can be an indicator of a disorder, yet is deeply normalized. Who would notice anything wrong if, in any movie, when someone is sad, they stuff themselves with ice cream and ultra-processed foods? Or if, at any celebration, the first thing people do is eat food that isn't what we consider "healthy"?
At first, I would binge eat. If I was stressed, I would eat. If there was a party, I would eat. If I was sad, I would eat. But it wasn't just eating; it was eating until I felt like I was going to throw up, and even then, I still had cravings to keep eating.
I started crying from guilt: I was going to get pimples, I was going to gain weight… And they still saw it as normal.
The lack of self-control began when, somehow, I was "old enough" for my parents to stop monitoring what I ate. But the dopamine rush I sought through food didn't last long. When I was younger, I cried because my tummy hurt, then I started crying from guilt: I was going to get pimples, I was going to gain weight… But this was considered normal.
What is emotional eating: causes and risks
I remember when my experience with anorexia began: the turning point. I was coming back from a get-together where we'd eaten at a burger place. Suddenly, all the comments about body stereotypes I'd heard from friends and family came flooding back. I remember running to my parents crying, telling them I didn't like what I saw, that I wanted to change my diet and eat healthily. I've always been a very spontaneous child, so they weren't too surprised, and they made me an appointment with a nutritionist. That summer, we cut out a lot of things from my diet, although, somehow, we didn't do it very well, because of the mental impact of starting to fear certain foods. It all stayed there until, suddenly, a pair of pants that used to fit me perfectly were now too big. I felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. I wanted more.
The following year was really tough . I started restricting my food intake , drastically reducing portion sizes, but I still had binge eating episodes triggered by emotional hunger. It got to the point where I became afraid of food. I developed a kind of "mental allergy" where anything that wasn't fruit or vegetables upset my stomach and even gave me hives. I stopped enjoying food . I made up excuses not to eat, invented hundreds of allergies, diets, excuses... In short, I ended up one or two kilos below my healthy weight. And even then, I wanted more. It was never enough; I wanted to weigh less. I set goals, and losing 100 grams was incredibly satisfying, although it was always accompanied by the fear of being scolded.
There are behaviors that can be signs that someone needs help, yet they are so normalized that they go unnoticed. Even I didn't really know what was happening to me.
When the course ended, I gradually returned to eating normal amounts. But my relationship with food was never completely normal again. I've gone through phases of obsessive exercise, guilt, binge eating, and restrictive eating, but now, as soon as I realize something isn't right, I stop, reflect, and ask for help. Yes, I have a disorder, and I'm still learning to live with it. But it no longer has me.
When healthy eating becomes an obsession
What I want to emphasize most about my story is that no one realized what was happening . There are behaviors that can be signs that someone needs help, and yet they are so normalized that they go unnoticed. Not even I really knew what was wrong with me. The word "disorder" can sound so harsh that no one dares to ask for help. Perhaps you're afraid of being seen as exaggerating. Since going through this experience, I've been identifying behaviors that bother me, that shouldn't exist. Stereotypes, ideals, and comments , both directly and indirectly, have a significant impact, even if they aren't directed at you.
Luz contacted us some time ago. She wanted to share her experience with an eating disorder that had gradually taken over her life since adolescence. But above all, she wanted to warn about the dangers of normalizing certain behaviors related to food and body image. "It's just a phase," she was told when she expressed insecurity about her body or when she started wanting to diet to eat "healthily." No, it wasn't just a phase; it was a cry for help that took a long time to receive an answer.
Her testimony is a wake-up call to those comments, stereotypes, and beauty ideals that normalize eating behaviors that can have serious consequences.
