More than a Number

This blog post will discuss anorexia and unhealthy eating habits.

When I was in university, I strived for the 'perfect 100.' I didn't get there very often. But, when I did, I was giddy. I kept my delight private because I didn't want to upset anyone, but happy I was. I wasn't striving for a perfect academic score... I wanted to be 100lbs.

It's much harder for me to write this blog post than it has been for me to write about my bipolar disorder. For some reason, I'm much more ashamed of this. So, I ask preemptively for your grace as I try to write about my eating disorder for the very first time.

I don't know when it began. Apparently, when I was a young child, I would sit in the front of the mirror and stare at myself. Sometime in the next decade, I would come to hate that image so much that I would avoid the mirror entirely. At one point later, the feeling of hatred was so strong that I smashed the mirrors I did look into until they were shattered into pieces. And, while I was in therapy for my depression and anxiety in high school, we never talked about this. I knew the way I felt about myself wasn't good, but I thought I was right. I didn't want to be told otherwise.

While the people I did talk to told me that I was beautiful and made in God's image, I didn't believe them. In fact, I pushed them away. I was afraid they would find out the truth and change their mind about me. I felt I couldn't trust them because I thought they were lying to me. The way I felt about myself impacted everything.

Things were particularly bad when I got to university. My identity had been formulated around two things: my weight and my intellect. When I got to Yale and things got harder intellectually, I began looking to my appearance to fill the void. I spent lots of money on clothes because I thought that would fix the hatred I felt when I looked in the mirror, and I drank a lot of coffee so that I could have energy even when I was skipping meals.

I remember one time when someone asked me how I stayed so thin. This person, who rarely praised me on anything, was asking me for advice! They thought I had succeeded at something. Their comments fed my soul, and so I proceeded to stop feeding myself. I wanted to be even thinner so that more people would praise me on my appearance – something I'd been craving for so long.

But, there was also the negative comments that drove me to stop eating: the person who told his friends that he would date me if he couldn't see, or the guy who encouraged me to start going to the gym so that I "wouldn't gain any more weight." Obviously, I craved these people's approval. I didn't know how to brush it off. There was soon a rewards chart on the fridge, saying that I could eat a bagel if I went to the gym enough times. And, I stopped going to the doctor so that they wouldn't weigh me when I got there.

Looking back, it seems extreme and terrible. But, at the time, the comments hurt and the response seemed logical.

By the time my wedding rolled around, I had hit the 'magic number.' One of my best friends, who hadn't seen me in person for a while, expressed her concern. I brushed it off in the moment, but was internally grateful that she had recognized my transformation. I felt good. My wedding pictures made me feel beautiful, and it helped that I could say my dress was a size 0.

But, soon, things came crashing down. When I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I was put on a medication that made me gain a lot of weight fast. My husband would leave for work, and I would cry in the bath, disgusted at my changing body. But, I had this newfound hunger I'd never had before. I couldn't stop eating and I hated every second of it. I once again spent an extraordinary amount of money on my appearance. My favorite clothes no longer fit me and I was devastated.

While I soon got off that medication and began a new one, I didn't lose the weight. In fact, I continued to gain it. Everyone around me was glad that I was eating again, but I hated it.

It wasn't until recently that I was diagnosed with anorexia when I was in the psychiatric ward for depression. The therapists and doctors began talking with me about my eating habits, and my sheepish reaction meant they knew something was up. The doctor at the outpatient clinic added it to my medical record. It was official. I had anorexia.

For a long time, I denied the term because I wasn't thin anymore; I didn't have it "as bad" as some other people. But, it was my mentality that convinced the doctors that I had it. They weren't wrong. It just came as a surprise to some of my loved ones because I had always found ways to mask my mentality.

I'm not in a place where I can say that I've conquered it. In the past week even, I've acted and thought in ways which indicate that I'm still struggling. I still can't really look at our wedding pictures because I feel so sick when I look at them. I simultaneously desire to be that thin again and also see the sickness in my face.

So, why would I write this? Well, there have been glimmers of hope, places where I feel like I have made progress. Last autumn, my husband and I had professional pictures taken. And, I like them. A lot. It was the first time I had really stood in front of a camera in a long time. It was vulnerable and scary, but I keep those photos as my computer background because they're a beautiful reminder of how far I have come.

I know that I am more than a number on a scale. The "magic 100" now proudly reminds me of a grade I got on one of my exams in divinity school. I don't always look in the mirror and feel good about what I see, but I can now remember that I was created in God's image and that the Creator adores me. I know that I am loved by many. I am much better at taking a compliment, although my friends will tell you that I still pretty much suck at it. I can now recognize my unhealthy behavior, and I (mostly) tell my husband when it's happening. I know what foods I like and will happily eat them. Things are looking up.

1 Samuel 16:7 reads, "man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart." While it is true that we live in a society that may take a lot of interest in my outward appearance, the Lord is concerned with my heart. It is important that I act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with my God.

But, your body is also beloved. Loving yourself and your body is not a thing to be ashamed of. It should be celebrated.

There is so much messed up with our world when it comes to body image and expectations for beauty. Part of our role as Christians is to communicate to the world that God lovingly made each of us and that our worth before God is not tied up in what we look like. My greatest hope today is that we can usher forward a world where we are embraced as we are.

I pray that you can look at yourself in the mirror today and delight in the knowledge that you are loved.

Please visit the National Eating Disorders Association's website for more information or if you need a helpline.