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When dealing with body dysmorphia, an eating disorder, or just simply living your life, DON'T give in to: Isolation Negative Stereotypes of any kind Self-Doubt, Unworthiness, Exclusion Perfect body-Images on social media Unrealistic beliefs of what is “Normal” Unhealthy eating trends Body-shaming Anything/anyone that does not uplift, celebrate, embrace YOU!

“You’re fat,” said my dad, “Look at your teammates.” I had been playing soccer since I was 5 but at one point I stopped enjoying it completely. The purpose of playing had been lost. My father would tell me I was fat and my body looked wrong repetitively in order to make me go practice and work out. This made me more conscious about my body shape and weight than ever before and my motivation for playing soccer would change until I didn’t even know what it was for anymore. I al

When I started out to write a post about eating disorders in males, the first thing I looked up was the prevalence. And already, I was met with the first misconception—while I knew it was higher than most assume, I thought it would be around ten percent. I was surprised to see that the reality is that about a third of people with eating disorders are male. In fact, ARFID is more likely to occur in males and binge eating disorder is almost equally likely to occur in males or f

Did she too worry about her body? Was she ashamed of how skinny she was? Did she have doctors commenting on her weight too? I hope not. I hope that her body did not stop her dreams, Her passion, Her energy, I hope one day she’ll see how beautiful she is. How her clothes fit her just right, In all the perfect places, And that she’ll stop asking how she looks like. How this color matches her pigmented shiny skin, If she should apply heavy makeup, To look at the tangible mask sh

With the idea of getting diagnosed with an eating disorder, there were two things that stayed in my mind: it will be official that I have this disorder, something so destructive and hard to navigate, but I will finally be recognized and heard for the awful things that I was experiencing. The last part was something that did not happen automatically, and that is unfortunately an experience for a lot of people with OSFED. OSFED (other specified feeding or eating disorders) is a

One of the most confusing parts of recovering from an eating disorder or chronic body dysmorphia is realizing this: your body can change faster than your brain can catch up. Not just emotionally, but also perceptually. Many people in recovery describe a strange experience where they know something has shifted—medically, nutritionally, or behaviorally—but their reflection, sense of size, or internal “map” of their body hasn’t updated. This isn’t denial, vanity, or failure; ins

A new journey to begin from deep within Take all the time you need, no judgement, negativity, pain or self-doubt to proceed Self-love and self-acceptance, this is where you start Practice as needed until they are embedded deep within your heart. Only you get to decide what’s best for you, so choose whatever brings you joy, embrace all that comforts you and all that is good as only you would. Seize every opportunity to love yourself, to see yourself as the unique, irreplaceab

A long winter felt the nights when all I had was my cold, sick body. I felt the snow drop as my insides had fallen out, when my head rested against the toilet. A searing summer felt the days when I felt as if I was going to die, running away from my feelings. Stinging sweat clung to my full chest, which I wished it not to be. A looming feeling sank into the bowl of green grapes that I ate at camp, hoping someone noticed that it was the only thing I had eaten all day. I fe

I didn’t think I had an eating disorder. For a while, I was hyper-fixed on them, because I knew there was something there that resonated with me. I would read about them and compare—anorexia? Sometimes, but I was as likely to binge as starve. So bulimia? But I didn’t throw up, couldn’t imagine it. And definitely not binge eating disorder, since the binges weren’t as significant as I would read and would be followed by periods of restriction. While in graduate school, I was of

My body is an echoing cathedral built on shifting ground, its stained-glass windows warping every color into something sharper than light. When I walk inside myself, the floorboards remember every hesitation. They creak with the weight of ghosts I never meant to invite. There is a river that runs through me, thin as a wire, carrying reflections I do not recognize. The water keeps rewriting my silhouette, shaving truths into angles, turning softness into a language I am told I

If you search for "eating disorder" in a stock photo library, you will likely see the same thing over and over: a young, skeletal woman looking sadly into a mirror. While this represents some people's reality, it has created a dangerous myth: the idea that you have to look "sick enough" to have a problem. The Diversity of Struggle The truth is that eating disorders are diverse. They do not have a "look," a "size," or a "weight." Body Size: Most people struggling with an eati

They taught us the body is a city the gods may enter at will. So I learned early how to lock my gates. Apollo came first— not with plague, but with measure. He laid his lyre across my ribs and said: only what is tuned survives. I listened. Demeter passed me by in winter. Her hands were full, and I pretended not to be starving so she would not stop. I told myself this was discipline. The earth believed me. I counted like a priestess. Seeds. Hours. Bones. Every omission felt li

I watch her every day and I see everything she does. The lunch table hears her murmur about going to the bathroom but only I discern the faint gagging after she disappears to carve her belly whole. The nurses disregard her, painting her emptiness as hunger, but only I hold her hand as she traces the flaring of her ribs. Her boyfriend teases her, squeezing her cheeks and arms, but only I see her falter as she pinches her thighs. I know her thoughts I feel her emotions I see ev

I heard crying from downstairs It was just like any other night, My stuffed animals smiling in the corner, My collection of books waiting to be read, But something was not right, Especially because the crying didn't involve yelling Mom wasn't angry She just did not feel beautiful Beautiful woman, with a big heart and an impeccable drive I admire her in so many ways But none of them had to do with her body But I know she has always believed that her body meant something, To my

When I look in the mirror, I look too fat, Too wide, My clothing oversized, Tell me, is someone lying to me? When I speak out loud, My voice shuts down, My hands instinctively adjusting my clothes, My mind holding me captive, Tell me, am I lying to myself? When I step onto the scale, I see overweight written on it, I begin writing down my calories, Checking everything I grab at the store, Tell me, is my reality a lie? When I sit down, I make sure to tuck my stomach, To lift m

At the end of 2022, I made a promise to myself that would create an immense anxiety within me for the following years. I had a weird relationship with this promise; I loved it so much, but I also hated it with my whole heart. This promise was to exercise more in the following year, a normal and widely accepted New Year's resolution. But that wasn't truly my resolution. I wanted to become skinnier. That was my goal for the new year. And with that, I was going to do whatever it

i learned my body the way people learn enemies— by watching closely, by flinching first. mirrors became witnesses, never kind, never silent. every curve a crime, every softness a failure. i shrank myself into apologies, into numbers, into “almost enough,” believing if i disappeared neatly i might finally be seen. now i know —it was never my body that was toxic, it was the voice that taught me to hate living in it.

Every time I scroll through social media, I notice a familiar pattern: influencers presenting flawless, filtered versions of themselves. These images often look so perfect that they create an invisible standard, making viewers feel like they don’t measure up. This epidemic of filters is more than just a trend—it’s shaping how we see ourselves and others in ways that can be harmful. How Filters Shape Our Perception Filters are designed to enhance photos by smoothing skin, brig

Eating disorders are often misunderstood, and the stereotypes surrounding them do more harm than good. Many people believe eating disorders only affect young women who are obsessed with thinness. This narrow view ignores the reality that eating disorders impact people of all genders, ages, and backgrounds. These stereotypes create barriers to seeking help and contribute to stigma. I want to challenge these misconceptions and shed light on the truth behind eating disorders. Ea