The Power of an Eating Disorder
Have you ever carried a part of yourself so deeply hidden that even admitting it felt impossible?
For me, that part was my eating disorder—a silent struggle I hid for over a decade.
It took years to acknowledge it, let alone seek help. I hid it from everyone, convinced I could face it alone. It was a silent and isolating struggle that consumed me.
But today, I’m no longer ashamed of that chapter in my life. Instead, I’m grateful for the experience, because the power I discovered through it was truly life-changing.
The Silent Companion: How It Began
When I reflect on my eating disorder, I think of it as a silent companion that crept into my life when I was numb, hopeless, and empty inside. It was there during my darkest moments, though I never consciously invited it. I can’t pinpoint exactly when it began—it simply became part of my life for over 12 years.
Food became my comfort, filling the void within me. Indulging in food gave me a fleeting sense of relief, but guilt soon followed. That voice in my head would whisper cruelly: “You’re fat and ugly. If you’re fat, no one will love you. You’ll be alone forever.”
Looking back, I now see the eating disorder as a way I tried to cope with my deep fear of being unwanted and alone. Food was my escape, my false sense of security. Overindulgence left me feeling disgusting and guilty, and purging became a way to escape those feelings. It was a vicious cycle—one I rationalized by telling myself it wasn’t that bad because it wasn’t happening every day.
But the truth was, it was quietly controlling my life.
Seeking Help
For years, I hid my eating disorder, letting it linger in the shadows, never fully addressing it. I told myself it wasn’t a problem—I was in denial.
Then one day, a special person came into my life and taught me a lesson I’ll never forget: true strength lies in asking for help and being willing to accept it. I looked at this person—someone I deeply admired for their strength—and noticed how they asked for help without hesitation. I didn’t see them as weak; in fact, I saw them as stronger because of it. It wasn’t “Amanda against the world.” I didn’t have to face everything alone.
That realization was a wake-up call. For years, I had convinced myself that asking for help was a sign of weakness, that I had to handle everything on my own. But as I reflected on my life, I began to see how much that belief had been holding me back.
After more than a decade of struggling, I finally took a leap of faith and asked for help. It was one of the most courageous and life-changing decisions I’ve ever made—terrifying at first, but something I knew I was capable of doing. I will forever be grateful for this person, who helped me realize that strength comes in many forms, including the courage to reach out.
Uncovering the False Stories
Asking for help was just the beginning. What followed was a deep exploration of the stories and beliefs that had shaped my behavior for years.
Looking back, I now see how much my eating disorder was fueled by false stories—limiting beliefs I told myself:
“I can do it all alone.”
“Asking for help is weakness.”
“It’s me against the world.”
“You’re stronger if you don’t need anyone else.”
These beliefs created a fortress of loneliness and isolation around me. I felt alone in my battle, but the truth was, I had created that aloneness myself. I had the power to ask for help all along, but I convinced myself that suffering in silence was strength.
What a powerful realization it was to see that I wasn’t trapped—I was keeping myself trapped with my own thoughts and beliefs. I had spent so much time blaming life for punishing me, but in reality, I was punishing myself. The key to ending the suffering had been in my hands the entire time.
Healing Isn’t Linear: Embracing the Layers
I thought I had conquered my eating disorder the moment I stopped purging. For a while, I mentally checked the box: done, over, healed. But healing doesn’t work that way. It’s not linear, and it doesn’t fit neatly into a checkbox. True healing is messy, layered, and ongoing—it requires courage to go deeper.
After several months, I discovered another layer I hadn’t yet addressed: body dysmorphia. I realized that while I had stopped the behaviors, I hadn’t fully healed the beliefs that drove them. The distorted thoughts about my body and my worth were still there, lurking beneath the surface. With this newfound awareness, I began peeling back the deeper stories behind my struggles—the false narratives and fears I had carried for so long.
Healing meant sitting with emotions I had buried for years. It meant facing my shame, judgments, and fears head-on—not with criticism, but with compassion and love. It meant giving space to the parts of me that I had rejected and embracing them as worthy of healing too. This process was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Some days, it felt unbearable to sit with such raw vulnerability. But in those moments, I also found transformation—a sense of freedom and peace I hadn’t known before.
Digging Into My Beliefs
Here are some of the negative beliefs I uncovered during my journey—it’s crazy to believe I once thought these were true:
Love is earned. I only receive love when I achieve, and it can be taken away if I don’t perform or meet expectations.
I’m never good enough. If I were thinner, someone would want me. If my thighs were smaller, he wouldn’t have left me.
There are parts of me that aren’t lovable.
My worth is tied to my achievements and appearance.
I need to be perfect to make others happy.
I’m afraid of being abandoned, excluded, or hurt.
Unpacking these beliefs allowed me to see how much they had shaped my actions and my self-worth. More importantly, it allowed me to rewrite them.
Ultimately, I Learned
Looking back now, I can see how much my eating disorder taught me. While it was one of the darkest chapters of my life, it also became one of my greatest teachers. It forced me to confront the stories, fears, and beliefs that kept me stuck, and it led me to discover a deeper truth about myself:
Healing isn’t about perfection; it’s about embracing all parts of yourself. True healing comes when you accept and love every piece of who you are, even the parts you’ve rejected or hidden.
You can’t love parts of yourself—loving all of yourself is key. Wholeness comes from embracing the light and the dark within you.
True strength lies in vulnerability and connection. Letting others in and asking for help is not weakness—it’s courage in its purest form.
The power of processing emotions with compassion and love. Releasing judgment and fear creates space for profound healing and peace.
To view my body as a sacred vessel. My body allows me to experience this beautiful life, and for that, I am endlessly grateful. Without it, I wouldn’t be able to feel the wind on my face, the embrace of water, or the textures and sensations of the world.
That my worth is not tied to my appearance. I am worthy simply because I am, not because of how I look or what I achieve.
How to cultivate deep self-love. I love myself, fully and unconditionally, and I honor the journey that brought me here.
Sharing this story is my way of shining a light for others who feel lost or ashamed. It’s proof that healing is possible, and even in our darkest moments, we have the power to find our way back to ourselves.
Recommended Resources
If you are struggling with disordered eating or body image issues, know that you are not alone. There is so much help available, and you are worthy of receiving it. Below are resources I utilized during my healing journey:
Books
This journey wasn’t easy, but it brought me home to myself. If my story resonates with you, I encourage you to take one small step today—whether that’s reaching out to a trusted friend, joining a support group, or exploring one of the books I’ve recommended.
You are not alone, and you are worthy of healing.
With compassion and love, Amanda.
