Unveiling the part of me that went unseen.
I’ve never talked about it like this before.
I’ve disclosed to close friends & coaching clients that I battled bulimia & body dysmorphia since the age of 8.
It started with a scarcity mindset around food. I was the “fat” girl in class & “bigger” than my brothers. Kids in my class were cruel & mean.
As I got into middle school & adulthood it exacerbated into full blown bulimia with bouts of anorexia.
Life was bleak & I KNEW I was 50 shades of F*cked up. I knew I had to stop or I was gonna die because of my disorder &/or my Crohn’s disease complications.
With this blog post, I’d rather focus on the healing part than rehashing the past. Grateful it made me who I am so I can now help you.
In a way, I’ve purposely avoided sharing TOO much about my pre-recovery story because it can horribly backfire.
Those in the pre-contemplation or contemplation stages of change can hear these stories & think, “I’m not sick enough to get help,” “I don’t have a problem,” or “She was far worse than I am.” or even get ideas to further deepen the dark relationship with food, exercise, & self hate.
But when carefully crafted, these stories can be the very propellant that pushes someone into taking action.
The reality is, millions of people, right now, are living the secret life I once was as they battle disordered eating & body dysmorphia.
May my story instill the hope that you, too, cannot only recover but take back your power!
The Beginning
My relationship with disordered eating & poor body image started when I was just 8.
I spent the majority of my childhood & early adulthood overweight & unhealthy. Had a middle school teacher tell me I was too big to be a cheerleader at tryouts.
Kids were cruel, calling me names like lambchop because I had big 80’s hair & even thicker thighs.
My disorder began with overeating & then restricting to punish myself. I’d skip breakfast & barely eat lunch which I’d “allow” myself sugar free jello, a small travel size cottage cheese & 5 Ritz crackers.
My stomach would growl. I remember being embarrassed if the classroom was quiet enough for others to hear. Inevitably, I’d return home in the afternoon absolutely ravenous & binge on cookies, candy, cereal, chips, & junk food.
These episodes got more & more out of control. I continued eating less during the day, binging at night & sometimes I’d take cold medicine to make me sleep to keep from eating.
Years passed, & my eating habits fluctuated. I had never considered throwing up until I saw a Lifetime movie about a girl who had bulimia.
The process seemed easy. Eat whatever you want, throw up. The first time I purged was in middle school after eating a tub of ice cream.
Bulimia became a sort of coping mechanism for me. I told myself my obsession with diets & exercise were normal. It was about control. I was dealing with increased stress: school, college, & later on, relationships, a failed marriage on top of debt & drinking too much.
There were many things in my life I felt I wasn’t able to manage. I’d binge & get a rush. Then I’d get an even bigger, better rush after getting rid of it all.
12 Years Old: Barely Average
In so many ways, I guess I was an average midwest farmer’s daughter, pre-teen girl growing up in the 90s.
I played catcher, 3rd base & outfield in softball & threw shot put in track. After being criticized for going out for cheerleading being “my size,” I was mortified & self hate thickened.
I idolized Britney Spears & wished I was liked enough to be invited to the popular girls’ parties. I had boy crushes & a very small circle of friends. I was the smart girl & quiet & extremely insecure. I didn’t dress “cool” like all the pretty girls or athletes. I was awkward af. (hell I’m still awkward af 😂)
Then, one day, I did something not so average. Something I’d never done or known anyone who had but recently learned about from a boy at school.
I wish I could say I went home & masturbated, but that would be an untruth. Instead, I did something that felt extra perverse. I made myself vomit after eating.
Yes, I thought. This would make me skinnier faster & then I’d be liked.
I swore it would just be this one time. I’d just try it.
See, for about a year up to that point, I’d struggled with binge eating and fantasized about food because I allowed myself so little. My body starving, I’d gorge.
I just needed a single “fix” of ice cream or cake or cookies, and then I’d be good to go.
But then it happened again. And again. And again.
In no time at all, I met the diagnostic criteria for bulimia nervosa.
We always had junk food & snacks at home, so despite eating large quantities, my mom or siblings never grew suspicious. I also purged when no one was home to eliminate any risk of them finding out.
Bulimia had become my dirty little secret. A secret, unbeknownst to me at the time, I would carry for another 20+ years.
12–17 Years Old: Popularity and Pleading
Part of what fueled my eating disorder was my insatiable need to have something most every kid my age wanted: popularity.
My theory went as such: restrict food > be thin > get more friends/a boyfriend.
I went through many school days with only nibbles of food in my belly. If I had gym or farm chores in the evening, I ate a little extra so I could basically not pass out.
I wound up bingeing and purging when I got home because starving myself intensified the urge to eat uncontrollably. I could smash whole boxes of cereal, cheese nips, & goldfish.
All the while, I portrayed myself as the nice girl, the smart girl. I never reached Homecoming Queen nominee status, but I did bounce around between multiple friend groups. I got along with everyone.
I was in the honors society, president of the FFA & 4H, top part of my graduating class & received numerous scholarships to Purdue University.
I had duped everyone — even myself, at times — into thinking I was “normal.”
But no one saw me crying in the shower because I was so sick and scared or throwing up my food after every social gathering.
No one saw me looking at my reflection in the mirror and telling myself how hideous, fat, and worthless I was.
No one saw me keeled over after purging, pleading with God to forgive me for my gluttonous, grotesque behavior.
After every episode, I swore to higher power that it would be the last. Tears streaming down my face, I begged for God to not to give up on me. But week after week, month after month, year after year, the scene kept replaying.
18–22 Years Old: A Not So New Chapter
In August of 2000 I moved into my dorm freshman year & then participated in sorority rush.
I joined as a sister of Delta Gamma at Purdue University. Perhaps this — and my new life in college, in general — could be a chance to begin again.
Unfortunately, my keenness outweighed my hopefulness. I quickly learned my roommates’ schedules and when I could be alone with my behaviors.
But after a couple instances of them arriving home early or not leaving at their normal times, I realized I wasn’t guaranteed any solitude.
I secretly ate in my bedroom, blarring music to conceal the purging. They overheard on more than one occasion, and I either blamed it on being sick or hungover.
Swollen lymph nodes, puffy cheeks, and blood-shot eyes. A broken-out chin and sores on my lips from the stomach acid that often coated them.
WTF was I doing?
Still, I carried on as a social butterfly. Like my friends, I went to parties, took shots of God awful cheap tequila & vodka, and ate fourth meal at 1 a.m.
Unlike my friends, I made myself pay for it. I could easily down a super size fry & 20 piece chicken nugget meal from McDonalds. I could eat a whole box of Mad Mushroom Cheese sticks.
To make matters worse, at 22, I married my college sweetheart, not even knowing myself. I couldn’t love myself, How could I love another? My first marriage lasted 6 years, we were together 11 total. That post divorce hoe phase is real y’all 😂 let me tell ya. Added fuel to the fire.
In retrospect, my life hadn’t changed much at all in college. It was still an endless stream of lies, deception, self-hatred, and suffering.
What’s more, I’d completely lost sight of who the real me even was anymore & that continued well into my late 20’s & early 30’s.
41 Year Old: Current Flexible Carnivore Me
“My Fitness Journey” started at the age of 8. I started my Instagram over 10 years ago & that has been one helluva transformation story all on its own. I don’t even know how it happened but I feel it’s important for you guys to know the person behind the Instagram handle.
I wanted to share my fitness, health, & healing journey with y’all because it’s similar to many of yours. I want you guys to know you’re not alone, you’re seen, & you’re heard.
Before I started sharing my story, meals, fitness tips or acting like I know “everything” about “healthy” living, it’s important to share I am not a therapist, a doctor, or the best trainer of any sorts, yet, I am a person who lost a significant amount of weight, kept it off & has dedicated her life to living a healthy lifestyle & forgiving herself of her mistakes.
I’ve overcome decades of gut issues. Physical & mental hurdles.
⁃ Crohn’s disease
⁃ cervical cancer & infertility
⁃ numerous other health issues including renal stones & having my gallbladder out
⁃ decades of disordered eating, bulimia, orthorexia, & food addiction
⁃ managing Crohn’s & being a Crossfit athlete
⁃ managing social pressures of being told I needed to eat, workout, live, & BE a certain way to be “significant” & fit in a certain box
Some of you have watched & have been there for my journey since the beginning, while others are reading about this for the first time.
To put it out there plain & simple though, I’ve lost 60 lbs over my lifetime & transformed my body to all different shapes & sizes.
While that may not seem like a huge or significant feat to some, on my petite 5’1 frame – the transformations have been huge, mentally, physically, relationally, & spiritually.
Throughout my whole journey, my heaviest was 160 lbs at barely 5ft tall & my lowest in my adult life has been 97 lbs.
I’ve had ups, downs, I’ve gained, I’ve lost & learned a whole lotta life lessons along the way. My journey started at 8 years old, I’m 41 years young now, will be 42 in July, & the best is yet to come!
Everyone’s journey is different & this is mine…
I hope it can help you in any way possible & know my door is always open.
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Age [Whatever You Are, Doesn’t Matter]: YOUR Moment
Whether you’ve been secretly battling an eating disorder for a few months or 50 years, I want to make 3 things very clear:
You are sick enough
You deserve help
You can’t do it alone
Sadly, there are thousands upon thousands of eating disorder stories like mine, but each one is still different. Some cases are more severe, some less. But that’s all irrelevant.
What matters is knowing, at your core, you have an unnatural or undesirable relationship with food. That realization, alone, warrants getting help.
It doesn’t matter how much you’re restricting, what you weigh, how often you’re purging, or how much you’re bingeing. Yes, certain factors will determine the level of treatment you need, but you deserve help, regardless.
The first step is saying something. Is there someone who’s been there for you when you confided in them about other personal matters? Someone who exudes kindness & compassion?
I hope you can also learn from my experience and not hold out for a wake-up call or a feeling of readiness to tell someone. If you do, you may never get the chance.
As long as a piece of you recognizes there is a problem and wants something different, you are ready to start your new life & begin again!
Who you are with your eating disorder is not who you are destined to be.
You can heal yourself.
You can find yourself.
You can be the version of yourself you wish for you and the rest of the world to see!
oxox Coach K
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