My Eating Disorder, My Recovery, and Everything I Learned

Gentle note: This post talks about disordered eating and recovery. Please take care of yourself while reading. If today isn’t the day for this, it’s okay to come back later. 💛

I’ve gone back and forth for years about whether I should share this.

Not because I’m embarrassed.
Not because I’m hiding it.

But because it’s personal. And complicated. And I never want to say the “wrong” thing when it comes to something this sensitive.

But so many of you have opened up to me about your own struggles with food, your body, dieting, bingeing, restricting, feeling out of control… all of it.

So I think it’s time I share my story more fully. Just in case it helps one person feel less alone.

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Where It All Started

Going into high school, my body was changing. Like everyone’s does.

Puberty. Hormones. I didn’t suddenly wake up and think, “I’m going to develop an eating disorder.”

It started really small.

I wanted to lose a little weight. I wanted to feel confident. I wanted control over something.

So I did what everyone tells you to do:

“Eat less. Move more.”

Sounds harmless, right?

That phrase is still something I struggle with today, because for me… that mindset was the beginning of everything going wrong.

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When “Being Disciplined” Turned Into an Addiction

(Probably one of the only photos I had from around that time. My hair was thinning and weak.) 

At first, I felt proud of myself.

I ate less.
I exercised more.
Then I ate even less.
Then I exercised even more.

And something flipped in my brain.

It became addictive.

I became obsessed with eating as little as possible and working out as much as possible.

I was running miles every day.
I was barely eating.
I was constantly thinking about food—but never letting myself enjoy it.

I remember living on things like saltines and raisins.

Looking back, it breaks my heart.

At the time, I thought I was doing something good for myself.

I wasn’t.

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The Part People Didn’t See

On the outside, some people could see I was starting to become too thin.

But the signs were more than just physical.

I was exhausted.
I was anxious.
I was cold all the time.

My sports times actually got worse, not better.

But I didn’t want anyone to notice.

So I hid it.

Baggy clothes.
Oversized sweatshirts.
Avoiding photos.

That’s such a weird contradiction, but anyone who’s been there probably understands.

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How Deep In It I Really Was

There’s one memory that really shows how sick I was at the time.

My doctor told me:

“When you come back, if you’ve lost more weight, we’re going to need to take this very seriously.”

I was terrified.

Not because I wanted help.

Because I didn’t want to lose control.

Before that appointment, I chugged water.
I remember even thinking about ways to make myself weigh more.

I didn’t do anything extreme, thankfully.

But the fact that my brain even went there?

That was addiction.

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Getting Help (Even Though I Didn’t Want It)

(Photo taken after my recovery, I was probably 20-30 lbs lighter at my lightest. Can you imagine that?! I can’t anymore!) 

Here’s the truth:

I did not choose recovery on my own.

My parents and doctors stepped in. They pushed me to get help.
They didn’t let it slide.

And I’m so grateful for that now.

At the time? I was angry. Resistant. Scared.

I started seeing a therapist. I had to completely relearn how to think about food.
I had to let go of control.

It was hard. Really hard. But slowly, I got better.

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Learning Again as an Adult

After college, I gained some weight. Like a lot of people do.

Late nights of drinking, buffets, stress and of course plenty of convenience food.

I wanted to feel better in my body again.

But I was terrified of slipping back into old patterns.

So I made myself a promise:

I will never starve myself again.

Instead, I started learning about nutrition for real.

What foods actually make me feel good. Focusing on whole foods, protein and balanced meals.

And something clicked for me. I realized: It wasn’t my fault that I felt out of control around certain foods.

Ultra-processed foods are literally designed to make you want more. Lucky Charms. Doritos. Packaged sweets. Fast food.

They’re engineered to override your hunger signals.

So no—you’re not “weak” if you can’t stop at one serving. You’re human.

That’s why to this day I mostly avoid ultra processed foods and fast food and instead find balance in real comfort food made with real ingredients!

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What Balance Looks Like for Me Now

Today, my relationship with food is peaceful.

And that’s something I never thought I’d say.

I eat mostly whole foods. I prioritize protein. I care about ingredients.

But I also enjoy myself!

I go out for pizza. I sometimes have desserts.

I also don’t punish myself and I definitely don’t spiral.

Food supports my life now. It doesn’t run it.

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Why I’m Sharing This

I’m sharing this because I know someone reading this is struggling.

Maybe quietly.
Maybe secretly.
Maybe in ways no one knows.

And you might think:

“Why can’t I just be normal with food?”

You can.

You just might need support, education, time and compassion.

There is nothing wrong with you. You can change this!

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If This Is You

If any part of this sounds familiar, please hear me:

You are not weak. You are not failing. You are not broken.

You deserve help. You deserve peace. You deserve freedom.

And it is possible.

If you can, please consider reaching out to a doctor, therapist, or trusted person. You don’t have to do this alone. 💛

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Why This Matters to Me So Much

This is why I care so deeply about what I share now.

Why I talk about balance. Why I focus on real food.
Why I teach instead of shame.

I’ve been on both sides. And I choose freedom every single day.

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Thank You for Reading This

If you made it this far, thank you.

Really.

Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for being here. Thank you for being part of this community.

And if this helped you feel even a little less alone, then sharing it was worth it.

With love,
Amanda 💛