top of page

6 Steps to Overcome 15 Years of Disordered Eating | My Journey


binge eating

I never imagined I would have a "normal" relationship with food (and my body).


But after a few years of curiosity and exploration (from trying fad diets to studying biochemistry and physiology), I've arrived at my happy place.


Let me briefly tell you my story.

As a sensitive, empathetic and obedient child, I grew up trying to impress my parents with academic achievements. I wish I had known back then that this people-pleasing tendency would become a complex relationship with food and my body.


When puberty hit, my body started changing in ways I wasn't prepared for. The weight gain during this time made me feel ashamed (deep down) and unworthy. I later found out I had hormonal imbalances that would not allow me to have my biological children - a devastating blow to a young, unprepared mind.


At 14, I was put on hormonal replacement therapy. Becoming overweight eroded my self-worth.

To compensate, I became a perfectionist, covering up my insecurities with straight-A report cards and an image of having my sh*t together.


But inside, I was struggling.


I experimented with fad diets and excessive exercise, sweating it out at the gym until complete exhaustion. The weight would come off, only to creep back on, leaving me feeling like a failure.


I blocked my feelings with food.


I pretended I didn't care about my weight (silently dreaming about a six-pack I would have one day).


I ate some more and then restricted again.


This vicious cycle continued for years.


It took me a long time to realise that I was struggling with an undiagnosed form of atypical anorexia.

Unlike the stereotypical image of a severely underweight individual, I maintained a "normal" weight, masking the severity of my condition. Research shows that atypical anorexia is just as dangerous as the classic presentation, with similar medical complications and psychological distress.


As I dug deeper to uncover the truth about healthy weight and optimum nutrition, I realised the folly of my restrictive, punishing approach. Diets don't work in the long run - they're unsustainable and you eventually end up in a worse place.


I needed a more holistic, compassionate approach to my relationship with food and my body.


It wasn't easy. It was a hell of a journey. I couldn't see a way out.


Until I did.


Unlearning a decade and a half of disordered thinking took time, patience and self-compassion. I had to reframe my relationship with food, seeing it not as the enemy, but as nourishment for my body and soul.


But eventually – in a process as graceful as a newborn giraffe learning to walk – I transformed into someone I never thought I'd be: a person whose brain wasn't a 24/7 food channel.


A person who felt at home in their skin.


The six steps I took to rebuild my relationship with food are not a substitute for professional help but might give you a rough roadmap (and a lot of hope) to a joyful, obsession-free life.


Step 1: I got curious.


Think of it as the adventurous friend who convinces you to try that funky new dish instead of sticking to plain oatmeal. Without curiosity, you would be stuck on the same bland plate of habits.


When you get curious about your eating habits, you start asking yourself questions.


“Why do I reach for chocolate when I’m stressed?”


“What’s behind this urge to skip meals?”


"Why do I push myself to go to the gym instead of going for a walk when i feel exhausted?


Curiosity is an antidote to self-judgement.

Curiosity shifted my mindset from judgment to exploration. Instead of thinking, “I’m a failure for eating that cake,” I asked myself,


“What was it about that cake that tempted me?”


"Why now?"


"Was I physically hungry or something else could have satisfied my need?"


This approach opens the door for learning rather than shame. When you’re interested in understanding your body and its signals, you’re more likely to nourish it rather than punish it.


Step 2: I binned the diet books and stopped restricting.


For years, I thought I wasn't good at dieting and I just needed more willpower. It turned out I was wrong.


I didn't fail at dieting, dieting failed me.

It failed most of us, especially in the long term. Because our bodies are so much smarter.


The root of my food fiasco was restriction.


For months on end, I'd count calories. Then, inevitably, I'd rebound like a rubber band, eating more than I needed or even wanted. When the binge was over, I'd feel ashamed, vowing to undo the damage by dieting even harder. And so the vicious cycle spun on.


What didn't I realise at the time?


Overeating is your body's natural response to restriction. 

When I swallowed pizza and colourful sweets at school after days of relatively healthy (under)eating at home, it wasn't my willpower failing; it was my biology winning. My body was trying to keep me alive, like a squirrel hoarding nuts for winter. Humans are hardwired to survive. When food is chronically scarce, all our senses go into overdrive, focused on finding and consuming as much food as possible.


After periods of restriction, we're programmed to binge to make up for lost time.

Once I understood that binge eating is almost always followed by restriction, I made a rule:


No more starving. 


I aimed to have three proper meals daily, plus a few snacks in between. But I knew that losing weight couldn't be the solution to all my problems. Self-compassion and self-worth had to take centre stage. For life.


Step 3: I put the brakes on.


It's tricky to describe the urge to binge. It's like an itch you can't scratch. It's like that game where someone says, "Don't think of an elephant" and suddenly, it's the only animal you can think of. Beyond frustrating!


So I made another rule: If I couldn't stop myself from bingeing, I'd allow it. I'd be ready to learn from it. But I had to sit down, use cutlery, eat slowly and savour each bite. Binges are often characterised by fast and distracted ingesting of food.


Slow eating brings something up to the surfice when you have a binge episode: AWARENESS.

Slow eating stopped me from numbing out. 


When I stopped using food as an anaesthetic, all the feelings and thoughts I'd been hiding came to the surface. All my emotions were at the table: loneliness, lack of understanding and acceptance, a wish to be someone I was not.


It was a lot to handle. But soon I realised, that dealing with these uncomfortable feelings was better than stuffing them down. Oh, so much better!


Next time you feel the urge to binge, just notice and name it.

"I feel like I need to binge," you might say to yourself.


You're slowly stripping food of its power because it can no longer serve as an emotional escape. Your emotions will need to find a new home. And that is a good thing.


Step 4: I increased my tolerance for "negative" feelings.


Any overwhelming emotion I struggled to deal with, I'd tackle by distracting myself with food. And I wasn't alone. Studies show that people who struggle to regulate their emotions are more likely to binge eat.


Learning to cope with strong emotions is extremely important when you overeat regularly.

Rather than eating at any time, I learnt to notice the right moments to journal, to cycle through the city, to rearrange my wardrobe, to have a good cry, or to head out for a night of wild dancing.


The breakthrough came when I realised that my worth wasn't tied to a number on the scale or the shape of my body. I was so much more than that - a multifaceted human being with unique talents, passions and contributions to the world. This shift in my mindset was liberating.


My life became bigger, more meaningful and joyful.


The next time you feel a strong compulsion to eat when you are not physically hungry, take a moment to identify what you're feeling.


Take a look at the emotions wheel image below. Start from the centre to identify the broadest emotion, then move outward to explore more specific feelings.



emotional wheel

Then, ask yourself: "What's this feeling trying to tell me?"


Am I missing quality time with my friends?


Do I want to be understood and accepted?


Do I miss a sense of belonging?


This isn't a quick fix. It's a journey towards discovering your authentic self who wants to live a joyful life. Regardless of what other people might think.



Step 5: I practised self-compassion.


Shaming and criticising myself into changing was about as effective as trying to herd cats.


What did work?


Learning to love myself. This is also called self-compassion.


Where my instinct was vicious self-criticism, shame and guilt, I gradually replaced it with understanding and kindness.


When I looked at my body, I tried to remove the label of "good" or "bad," and focus on the facts: I had a body. It carried me around. It allowed me to do things I liked and connect with the people I loved the most.


When self-compassion became a daily habit, my relationship with myself (and food) changed. Research also shows that self-compassion plays a critical role in the emergence of eating disorders, as well as the recovery from them.


Higher levels of self-compassion are associated with:


  • Less shame and guilt

  • Increased appreciation of one's body

  • Less restrictive eating

  • Healthier food choices

  • A higher tolerance for stress

  • Lower rates of depression and anxiety.


Self-compassion is a muscle, it can be trained. The more you practise it, the more benefits you will experience.



Step 6: I looked for deeper connections.


I shared my deepest struggles with my close friends. I'm blessed to have a few, who listen, who do not judge, who do not only try to help but have the capacity to hold space so I can figure out what works best for me. They didn't try to "fix" me, instead, they held my hand while I was pushing through my pain. Forever grateful for this.


The biggest predictor of someone's mental health is if they have social support. 

Not everyone needs professional support. However, if you feel like your relationship with food remains problematic, professional help - from a therapist or a coach - can be a game-changer.


Asking for help is the most powerful thing you would ever do. Zero shame here.

What "becoming better" looks like for me.


There are still days when the old voices of self-doubt and body criticism creep in. I've accepted those might not go away. The difference is that I know how to tame it now. It has no power over my desire to live a fulfilling, joyful life.


I feel free to eat what I want, when I want.


Do I feel guilty when I overeat? Not really. I've learned to listen to my body's natural hunger cues and overeating feels too uncomfortable now.


Does it happen sometimes? Absolutely! But the quality and the flavours of food must be outstanding for this to happen. As long as I stay connected to my genuine desire to take care of myself, I know I can trust my appetite (and myself).


I've discovered the joy of movement that energises and uplifts, rather than depletes and punishes me.


Our bodies are incredibly intelligent, self-regulating systems. When we provide them with the right nutrients and create a supportive environment, they have an innate ability to find their natural, healthy set point.

But this required letting go of the rigid control and perfectionistic tendencies that had dominated my life.


 

As a Nutritional Therapist and Health Coach, I know firsthand the pain and isolation of disordered eating, and I'm committed to breaking the cycle of shame and perfectionism that so many of us have internalised.


Through my work, I:


  • empower my clients to cultivate a healthy, sustainable relationship with food and their bodies;

  • help them uncover the root causes of their struggles, whether it's nutritional imbalances, trauma, or deeply ingrained self-worth beliefs;

  • provide them with the tools and support to heal, one step at a time.


My experience has taught me that true health and happiness don't come from rigid control or external validation. They arise from self-acceptance, self-compassion, and a deep understanding of our bodies' innate wisdom.


It's a journey that requires courage, vulnerability, and a willingness to let go of the stories that no longer serve us.

If you're struggling with disordered eating or body image issues, know that you're not alone. With the right support and a commitment to self-discovery, it is possible to break free and reclaim your power.


Your worth is not defined by a number on the scale or the shape of your body. You are a unique, valuable human being, deserving of love, respect, and the freedom to live your best life.



 

References:


Biber, D. D., & Ellis, R. (2017). The effect of self-compassion on the self-regulation of health behaviors: A systematic review. Journal of Health Psychology, 24(14), 2060–2071. https://doi.org/10.1177/1359105317713361


Bottera, A. R., Kambanis, P. E., & De Young, K. P. (2020). The Differential Associations of Shame and Guilt with Eating Disorder Behaviors. Eating Behaviors, 101427. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.eatbeh.2020.101427


Goldschmidt, A. B., Wall, M. M., Choo, T.-H. J., Evans, E. W., Jelalian, E., Larson, N., & Neumark-Sztainer, D. (2018). Fifteen-year Weight and Disordered Eating Patterns Among Community-based Adolescents. American Journal of Preventive Medicine, 54(1), e21–e29. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.amepre.2017.09.005


Kelly, A. C., & Carter, J. C. (2015). Self-compassion training for binge eating disorder: A pilot randomized controlled trial. Psychology and Psychotherapy: Theory, Research and Practice, 88(3), 285–303. https://doi.org/10.1111/papt.12044


Schaumberg, K., Welch, E., Breithaupt, L., Hübel, C., Baker, J. H., Munn-Chernoff, M. A., Yilmaz, Z., Ehrlich, S., Mustelin, L., Ghaderi, A., Hardaway, A. J., Bulik-Sullivan, E. C., Hedman, A. M., Jangmo, A., Nilsson, I. A. K., Wiklund, C., Yao, S., Seidel, M., & Bulik, C. M. (2017). The Science Behind the Academy for Eating Disorders’ Nine Truths About Eating Disorders. European Eating Disorders Review, 25(6), 432–450. https://doi.org/10.1002/erv.2553







Comments


bottom of page