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The B Word

How to be the best advocate for your loved ones with eating disorders this holiday season.

By Lillie SuperstarPublished 3 years ago 6 min read
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Thanksgiving, pandemic fueled Internet-wide binge eating, and The Crown's portrayal of Princess Diana has brought up a lot of ~unrequited trauma~ in the past few months (big shocker there). I learned a lot this year about how people with healthy relationships with food function, which frankly is weird as hell, and I learned a lot about how they react to those of us without healthy relationships with food. I'm annoying and can't shut up about my opinions on my lived experiences so let's talk about how you can be a better advocate for your loved ones with disordered eating.

And yes, if you haven't figured it out, the B word is bulimia.

I think there's a really confusion notion around eating disorders: we do it to be skinny. I've been in recovery for essentially 3 years now and while I would love to have a 26 inch waist, 45 inch hips, and a thigh gap, being bulimic never had to do with how I looked. I don't speak for every bulimic person, or every person with an eating disorder, but the narrative that all of us are skinny and/or the end goal is skinniness has to be dispelled right now. Or else I'm just gonna be typing into the void of people saying, "But you're not skinnnYnnYYYynnnYYYYYYYYYyyyy...???"

Bulimia was a coping mechanism for me. The first time I binged and purged I was 10. My maternal grandmother lived with us until I was almost 12, and while she was often viewed as a saint for raising 5 children all by herself, I unfortunately got the short end of that saintly stick. Looking back on it, I don't think my Nana hated me. I think I was an easy target, though, as middle school bullies would remind me a few short months later. Yeah, I was chunky, but everyone kinda is at some point between ages birth to 10. But my Nana's issue wasn't about weight, even though she was always a trim 97 lbs. It was about my behavior, caring about my appearance, seeming womanly.

Me having IBS was the bullseye on that easy target for her. She was huge on bathroom and table etiquette for some reason, and oh my god, writing this out on the Internet is literally so mortifying. When you have IBS, aka irritable bowel syndrome (so cute, I know), certain foods trigger your symptoms more than others. Nana quickly caught on to what foods got me good, and promptly never served them to me. My sister was a painfully picky eater too, so no one really noticed that I barely ate a raspberry by the time she was in a nursing home. My Nana's reasoning for cutting out my trigger foods had nothing to do with actually helping my IBS, though. She made it very clear that men don't like to deal with "that". "That" was never really delved into, but I was frequently shamed for having a colon that just doesn't quit, so using context clues you can imagine what she meant.

Foods like raspberries, strawberries, shredded lettuce, anything with small fibrous particles that were trigger foods for IBS soon became trigger foods for bulimia. I knew I couldn't avoid fruit salads at pool parties forever. In a way, it was easier to just eat it, smile, and vomit at my own discretion instead of hoping and praying my colon could make it until I got home.

Bulimia gave me control.

Talking with other people in ED recovery, I've heard similar stories. Getting over the hurdle that not all people with an ED are aiming to be skinny is like an Olympic sport. But trying to explain how this very destructive thing is actually a coping mechanism is like a feat of nature. Guinness World Records level of emotional strength. Emotional strength I don't really know how to talk to my family about to this day. Or any of my loved ones.

Some of us are masters at hiding our EDs, but unfortunately, if you love one of us, eventually you pick up on certain things. Whether it be an avoidance of trigger foods, borderline militaristic meal schedules, calorie logging apps, or even an addiction to supplement drinks (Boost, if you need a sponsor under 65, hit me up) we all have our little things. I don't know that I've ever had to outwardly say to anyone who's ever lived with me, "Hey, I have bulimia. And it's not cool like in Degrassi. Please refrain from putting seeds anywhere near my mouth thanks." I think it's pretty obvious. Although my existence tends to be pretty obvious.

In short, at this point, you probably know and/or love someone with an eating disorder. In fact, 28.8 million Americans will experience some level of disordered eating in their lives. Binge eating, anorexia, bulimia, hell even some "diets" are considered disordered eating. And not everyone has access to care for their disorder, nor do some people even know if they're in the middle of a cycle of disordered eating. But we all heard it in middle school. If you see a friend eat a ton of food at lunch time and go to the bathroom right after, they're bulimic! If your friend doesn't bring food to lunch, they're anorexic! If a friend goes vacuum mode at the fridge after a rough day in math class, they're a binge eater! Tell your teacher or an adult you trust and get them help!!

Great in theory. Nearly impossible in practice.

Getting a loved one with an eating disorder "help" isn't ever really specified. Especially when we're in recovery. Like, what is my mom supposed to do now? How are my friends supposed to react when I go in on the tacos and margarita buckets and don't stick my finger down my throat 30 seconds later? What is help? How do you quantify help?

Well, there's no nice little answer you can package up and slap a decorative bow on. Sucks, I know.

But this time of year is hell for a lot of us with disordered eating. People can be in recovery for decades and still feel like they'll slip up on Thanksgiving or Christmas or Hanukkah meals. It's even harder when it feels like everyone else at that dinner table is just vibing around a turkey or casserole. It can be isolating. It can be one of the loneliest feelings on Earth, and when your eating disorder was your coping mechanism for unpleasant feelings, one can understand how that slope gets slippery real quick.

Sometimes the best help is just knowing that we're seen. Knowing that the people around us are here to help and won't judge us for what we ask for, what we need for help to get through these next few weeks of trials and tribulations and cinnamon on almost everything. It may be inconvenient to you when your loved one asks you not to put raisins in something, or to make a separate dish without their trigger foods. It may be inconvenient when they ask if you have anti-nausea meds on hand right as you're serving pie. But what's a light inconvenience to you can feel like the world is caving in on us. What would take a minute or two out of your day to help us can lead to a lifetime of trust.

End of the day, it's pretty simple. Check in on us. Ask what we need, if anything. How we're feeling, especially doing distance gatherings for the holidays. Let us know we're seen and you're an advocate for us. If your loved one is willing, ask what their trigger foods are so you can be sure to accommodate them.

Eating disorders are often portrayed as a shameful, yet inevitable disease. Some people will never understand why Princess Di or Karen Carpenter had eating disorders, and think-pieces are probably written about it at least once a week. But it doesn't have to be shameful, inevitable, mysterious, unstoppable, or whatever else weird made for TV movies told us eating disorders are. When you reach out just to let us know that we're seen and you're here for us, we remember that. And now more than ever, it's important to feel acknowledged and remembered.

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About the Creator

Lillie Superstar

semi-professional face and hair toucher with a lot to say

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