Black Women With Eating Disorders

My eating disorder started in elementary school. I did not realize I had a problem with eating until I became much older. I had always been skinny my whole life. Genetically this was how God made me but there were times when I did not eat all. I think growing up in a single parent home and always having to watch how much food I could intake it started my first problem with eating. Those around me were always concentrated on my body because I was smaller than them. They would make fun of my small breasts and small frame. It made me feel ugly and worthless. I was a black girl who was not overly developed as a child and people noticed.

In my teenage years my family and I bounced around from home to home. Some family members and friends kicked me out before I could lay my head down in comfort. Every time it was a different person’s house I had learned to not eat all their food because it was not home. My neighborhood friends felt sorry for me and would invite me over for dinners some days. It was nice at times because I could take extra food home to my sibling or have something to eat for the next day. It taught me how to rationalize my stomach and to ignore the sounds of being hungry. Most people only saw the skinny body and still became envious.

As an adult my mother would body shame me in front of boyfriends because it made her feel better about her weight. Most of the women in my family are over weight and they did not like themselves at all. I would have creepy uncles comment on my body with admiration and with disgust. They never saw me as a person with feelings. Some days I would not eat just so I would not gain the weight and those around me would not bully me. To them I was an extension of their evil thoughts and nothing more. If they felt ugly then I was ugly that day too. As I chased my dreams of becoming a writer I did not make much money. So some days eating what I could afford was on the menu. I was in the public eye and every time I gained a little weight my so-called family and friends would criticize me in the comments. I was either pregnant or sad. My mother’s boyfriend walked up to me and said, “You know having a double chin at 23 years old is not exceptional.” I had gained a few pounds and was far away from that but it made me feel so horrible. My mother and him laughed in my face. I pretended that it was funny because I did not want to give them the satisfaction of hurting my feelings. Instead I went to the gym that afternoon and cried myself to sleep.

As of now, I learned to accept my petite body but I make sure it is healthy first. I tried my hardest to maintain confidence about myself and honestly it gets hard at time. All the world sees is their dream body or the size they use to be in high school. They never see the girl who wears the body. Especially being an African American woman no one cares if they hurt my feelings or not. I was just the scapegoat for their insecurities. I thought I could control my body through not eating but it only made me unhealthy. After I dealt with postpartum depression and prejudice comments in my own newfound family it caused another ripple effect in my mental health. I try my hardest to stay away from these people because they only mean to bring me harm. Finally, I am at the weight I am proud of and I am the happiest I have ever been in my life. Their hateful comments did not break me and their projections of their insecurities did not kill me. I am still the happy-go-lucky person I will always be. I thank God everyday for never giving up on me. This is my testimony. The challenges of an eating disorder and being a black woman. I hope more young black girls began to see how beautiful, brave, and strong that they really are in the long run.

I had to change my thoughts about my own body and turn off what society wanted me to look like. I was tired of the criticism. I tried to starve myself into being more beautiful. Even when I was the “perfect” size they still belittled me publicly humiliated me. They did not care if I wanted to kill myself because of their hate. So I had to make a decision for my mental health. I got rid of the friends who made comments about my body. I no longer associated with family who wanted to belittle me in front of the world because it made them feel powerful. I finally felt beautiful because I said so and it was a freedom I had never experienced in my life.