My Eating Disorder Story

May is for mental health and it is important to share <3

I can remember back to being 8 years old and fixating on my body. I have memories of being 12 and claiming I was going to “get my abs back”, my uncle telling me I was porking up, my aunt telling me to watch what I eat so I don’t gain weight. It all stuck with me, each comment becoming engrained in my memory and what I focused on. Growing up in body centric sports of cheerleading and gymnastics, my size was my identity. I was always the little one, and I made it a point to stay the little one. I was surrounded by girls running around in little leotards, where I always compared.

Junior year of high school, my friends and I were going to Europe, a trip that should have been an exciting opportunity to experience a new culture. Before I went, someone told me I was going to gain weight while I was there, enjoying all the foods. I am not sure what it was, but that was the moment every comment and thought before, clicked. I went to Europe, making it a point to not gain weight. I did not enjoy any food they had, I barely ate, and I was a ball of anxiety around food. I remember others making comments how little I was, and this fueled my fire. My friends were concerned, and it was only the beginning. I came home from Europe, probably 5 lbs lighter in just 17 days, and I was tiny to begin with. From there it only got worse. I spent that summer hyper fixating on foods, trying to reduce my food intake. People made comments about me loosing weight, and I stated it was due to loosing muscle from quitting gymnastics.

I had cheerleading, and I began to lose my skills. I remember going to my first cheer practice after Europe and I could not do my standing tuck, due to the limited energy I had. Thus began the decline of my other skills. I started to lack on my self confidence, because the only thing I knew, cheer, was slipping away from me.

At this point, I was not fully aware of what I was doing to my body. I knew I wanted to be smaller, but I was not intentionally eating so little to the point where I knew I had an eating disorder. My senior year began, and so did the other symptoms. Everyone began to be really worried about me. Around October that year, my mom said she was worried because I was getting smaller, and I was the only one not worried. This is around the point, I began to be aware of wanting to restrict more and more. I remember eating a rice cake for breakfast, a granola bar for lunch, and then eating dinner. I had a way of eating when I was around others, but restricting when I was alone. This was also while being a competitive athlete and feeling like I could not make it through practice.

My parents began to become more worried about me, along with others and the comments came in. I began talking about these extreme stomach pains I had, and how I was always tired, so here came the doctors appointments. My mom took me to GI doctors, and I got X amount of testing done- to all show the same result that there was nothing wrong. The repeated question of “Are you purposely trying to lose weight” and the repeated answer of me crying saying there was something wrong with me. I decided not to swim my senior year, as the energy I was in putting would not be enough to sustain me through swimming, cheer, and diving. I needed time to figure out what was going on. At this point, I had no period, my energy levels were shot, and I began to become an anxious person- someone I never was before.

After doctor’s appointments I began to eat a little bit more, what sounded easy was protein shakes to at least help me be the athlete I wanted to be. I had the goal of wanting to be a college cheerleader and I needed to do what I could to accomplish this. I got some of my skills back at cheerleading, and I remember things kind of leveling out at this point. I was still hyper fixated on my size, but by the time my senior year ended I remember living a more normal life. It is hard to remember all the details, because a lot of it blurs into one and the eating disorder ebbed and flowed. I went to senior week, eating and drinking but knew I did not want to gain weight. I spent the summer coaching cheer, travelling and trying foods, and beginning my college cheer career.

Going into my college career I remember being able to eat pasta, go out to eat, try new foods, and was having fun. My roommate, who is my best friend, and I would go out to eat every Friday and I loved it. I was going out to parties, eating late night drunk food, and was getting stronger in cheer. I remember loving the dining hall cookies, and always eating them.

Sophomore year of college came and something changed in me again. With cheer, I was on the co-ed team, and one girl lost some weight. Another member made a comment on how she was so much easier to lift now, and that set me off again. My cheer uniform began to get bigger on me, I was eating less and less at my meals, and my goofy self was going away. My friends always made comments how tiny I was, but at this point, I thought I was becoming the size that would allow me to succeed for cheer.

The hardest thing to think about is how my personality and confident, fun self went away. I began to miss experiences of wanting to go out to eat with my friends. I made excuses as to why I needed to not order out. I stayed home to stick to controlling my food. We had parent tailgates for cheer, and while everyone enjoyed the food and laughed, I sat there not eating. Cheer became stressful to me, thinking would I have enough energy to do what I needed to do. And this was all the weigh 5-10 lbs less? It breaks my heart.

This carried on for years. Years of not being able to go out to eat, planning my food for days before, working out on top of also cheering 6 days a week, if not 7. I needed surgery, and I had to be on bed rest for 2 weeks. Each day I took a picture of my body to make sure it was not changing. I was healing from a major surgery and my biggest concern was my body changing. That makes me want to hug my past self. My friends brought me over hot chocolate to surprise me, and I pretended to sip on it.

Relief came when plans were cancelled since I didn’t want to break routine and eat something “Bad for me”. If I went to events surrounded by food, I was a ball of anxiety the whole time, and could not be present. Food stressed me out, I did not know how to enjoy it and those around me.

My body became my worth, it was my trophy. I lost every good thing about me, but I was “winning” because I was a skeleton. I would pick at my skin everyday, check to see if I could see my ribs, at night it felt hard for me to walk to bed. I calculated every calorie I had during the day to make sure I did not pass this fake number. I cried, a lot. I wanted to be normal, but I just did not know how to be.

Rock bottom came. My parents came to celebrate me being done my first semester of grad school. They took me out to one of our favorite restaurants and it was decorated for Christmas and had a “sleigh bar”. My parents wanted to get a drink while we wait and I threw a fit how I did not want alcohol and it was not needed. We sat, and I was so miserable and grumpy the whole time. I could not control my emotions around food. The nachos we ordered stressed me out, and I was not a happy person. I remember getting home, sitting on the floor and sobbing. I sent a long text to my mom and knew this was the life I did not want or could maintain. I decided enough was enough, and I needed help.

Thank god for my friend Kass. She knows me better than I know myself and for years saw the best in me, when it was not there. She worried about me and was always the person I needed. My heart breaks, thinking about the heart break she went through watching and feeling for me during my eating disorder. However, because of her, I would not be where I am now. At this point, I began hinting to her I wanted to get better, and I went to her saying I wanted a therapist. She texted me each day, helping me, and making sure I stuck with my word. I do not think I would have followed through if it was not for her. She ate meals with me when it felt hard, she texted me day after day to see how I was doing, and she was my role model.

I found a therapist and began CBTE. I was lucky, the therapist I found, I immediately clicked with. However, I knew I was willing to look around until I found one I felt safe with. At the beginning of therapy I remember thinking “this will not work for me”, “I am the exception”, and “I am broken”. It was HARD. I challenged myself, and my brain in ways that were hard and made me break down. However, each month I slowly healed. My favorite was looking back month to month and noticing progress I made. Things that were hard 2 months ago, felt like second nature to me now. I began to become more spontaneous. I laughed WAY more. I was ME again. Therapy in itself is another post, but it saved my life. I got my period back, and I was able to become a new version of me, one stronger than before.

I thought an eating disorder made me broken, but it showed me how much community and support I had around me. My mom and dad tried to learn to understand and figure out how they could help me. My mom sat down with me so I could explain how I felt, so she could learn how to communicate with me. My siblings listened to me and offered support where they could. I met my boyfriend and within 10 minutes of our first date, he asked me how he could help me. Every meal we have eaten together, every ice cream date, healed me in every way.

I feel heartbroken over the years I had my eating disorder, and the things I missed. However, I would never change it. Going through an eating disorder, and recovery was the bravest, hardest, and coolest thing I have done. I hit rock bottom, and showed myself I could get back. I choose my recovery to inspire others to learn, and recover.

I always say I will be in recovery for the rest of my life. I am recovered and in a good spot, but when life gets hard, my brain knows it wants to control something. My voices may get louder, but I know how to knock them down.

If you have or are going through recovery, I am always someone to reach out to, and a shoulder to lean on. If you are struggling, I highly suggest reaching out to a professional, it made a HUGE impact on my life.

You are strong and beautiful!

XoXo, Bri