By Anna Bryson
I’ve spent more than half of my life trying to become thinner.
It’s not glamorous: I’ve spent countless hours with my face in the toilet spitting up blood. More time staring at myself in the mirror, clawing at my own skin and wishing I could rip it off.
I wish I could get back all that time.
At its root, this stems from societal diet culture.
It started when I was 10 years old. I was “gifted” the book “Dieting for Teenagers.” I was secretive about what I was doing and never told anyone. In high school, my friends on the cheerleading team all did it too, so I thought it was normal.
By the time my esophagus was fucked up, it was too late.
I always carried a toothbrush and toothpaste in my purse. I never thought about the nearest exit in case a gunman attacked –– but I always thought about where the nearest bathroom was.
You might say, “Just stop doing that,” but it’s not that simple. I still can’t find the words to accurately describe the feeling of needing to do it. While knowing it’s wrong, it feels like if I don’t, then the world will fall apart.
I can’t go one second without being bombarded with diet culture. Scrolling through Instagram, I see “transformation photos” and ads telling me to “lose stubborn belly fat.” It’s not just the media, it’s my friends too. Someone is always talking about their new diet or praising somebody for weight loss.
This is all toxic.
The size of your body doesn’t make you a better person. You should never feel guilty about the food you eat (unless you stole it, then maybe). Food is not the enemy. Corporations are making money off of your insecurities.
Stop playing into it. Does your diet make you happy? Do you really want to spend five hours at the gym picking stuff up and putting it down so you can feel validated from likes on Instagram? Changing your body won’t make you stop hating yourself. Your weight is the least interesting thing about you.
You are more than what you look like.
I’m not saying this as somebody who is fully recovered. I still relapse. I’m trying to rewire my brain and unlearn the diet culture that surrounds me.
But I’m getting better.
I’m seeing a doctor. It’s not easy — it took me five to find one who I like. It’s not cheap either, but I’m saving money by not buying diet pills, laxatives and drugs to suppress my appetite.
At the end of my life, I don’t want to have wasted it all with my face in a toilet. You don’t make an impact on the world from being skinny. I want to be remembered for being a kick-ass journalist, and that’s what I’m going to spend my time doing.
The best line from this post ”The size of your body doesn’t make you a better person”, that is absolutely spot on, I really like your approach to weight loss, I wish everyone could understand it.