💌 My disordered eating journey

Healing from restriction, crash dieting, calorie-counting, & body dysmorphia

TW: disordered eating, calorie-counting, extreme dieting

“No thanks, no cake for me. Happy birthday though!”

“Can we eat somewhere keto-friendly?”

“How many calories are in that dressing?”

…How did I get here?

One fateful day in 2019, I became acutely aware of how much I’d let my body go.

I compared myself to me from before, high school prom and first-year uni where I never once sucked in my belly. The girl in the mirror was no longer her, and I blamed myself for it all.

Thoughts consumed me, accusing and judgemental: when did my arms get so big? Where did my jaw definition go? Why does my smile look like that? My face is so round. My old clothes don’t fit the same way. I hate the way I look in photos. I don’t remember the last time I felt pretty.

Suddenly, waffle runs with friends, poutine between shifts, and hearty bowls of pasta became forbidden endeavours.

I consumed less food. I consumed diet culture. And keto was the first thing I tried. No more carbs, not even rice — a staple in all Chinese meals, I quickly chose to villainize.

I shed weight, fast, but became skinny-fat — so Chloe Ting was my saving grace, in attempt to get some abs. But we all know how that story goes.

I stayed low-carb for the longest time, and thankfully confidence came back in as I poured my passion back into life: sports, fitness, friends, and podcasting made 2021 incredible.

My feud with food wasn’t done yet, though — just masked, ‘til triggers brought it back. I got deja-vu after SF/Seattle 2022, unhappy with the girl in the mirror who “enjoyed herself too much on her trip.” My inner critic returned with no remorse. Why am I so chubby again? No wonder I’m unworthy. I ate too much on my trip, and I need to lose it all.

None of it was true of course, but body dysmorphia was like a devil on my shoulder. So, I crash dieted. Hard and fast. I ate one meal a day (OMAD), ‘til my complexion resembled that of a zombie, and I realized I was starving myself.

Passion for life was again my saviour: I lived out a year of milestones and adventure, without much regard for food restriction. Blink of an eye came 2023, and I judged myself yet again, hard — this time for the “holiday weight” I packed onto my body.

I began counting cals for the very first time, a practice that actually served me well ‘til I reached a point of obsession.

To a point of bringing my food scale to work, to weigh out my lunches in cornered meeting rooms. Estimating calories in a bonus side dish, in place of being present at dinners with friends. Needing to “work off" an unplanned cookie, doing cardio out of guilt not enjoyment. Adjusting Cronometer’s “energy settings” to justify being in less of a deficit by night.

I’d even check the mass of the half a cup of water I drank before weighing myself — just to get the decimals a little bit lower.

The food scale numbers determined my meals, while the weight scale numbers determined my mood. “I just need to follow the plan,” I said, but the price I paid was living my life. I had become a slave to my system — but, t’was a system that actually worked. I lost 8 pounds, healthily paced, but clearly, unhappily done. (And remember that the scale never tells the whole story.)

As is with food, it’s important to stress: nothing is inherently “good” or “bad.” This was what saved me this time around, so let’s talk the bright sides of tracking my food, and all it taught me (long overdue).

Tracking is simply a tool in itself, supplemental to my regimented method — with protocols learned from sources like Huberman, I led with knowledge instead of impatience. Health and fitness are holistic, after all.

I kept a good sleep schedule, continued my sustainable weightlifting routine, and monitored my intake in harmony with nutrition, rather than just with calories in. I learned about macro- and micronutrients, vital for fuelling my body (and soul!) — and made it habitual to pack meals rich, with proteins and carbs and fats of all sorts from whole food sources and fun combinations.

Complex carbs are excellent. So are greens and meats. Fructose from fruits are not something to fear. And nutrition labels are informative charts, not red flags to blindly overlook.

So tracking actually served me well, until obsession loomed overtop. When a tool no longer serves, put it down. And so, in a gulp of courage, I did.

With conscious shifts to fuel my body having become second-nature, I can now finally say with truth: “I trust myself with food, and trust that my body knows what I need.”

It was that simple, all along.

My intuitive eating journey has begun, and I hope it’s all upwards from here. I wouldn’t trade these past few years for anything, as this turbulent experience made me stronger, smarter, and deeply self-compassionate. If any bit of my story reminded you of you, know that healing is possible, no matter how non-linear it may feel in the moment.

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This edition of my newsletter was a little different. Instead of my typical format, I want to share the YouTube creators who helped me heal my relationship with food: Natacha Oceane, Linda Sun, Will Tennyson (he’s way too funny), and Rachael Wrigley. I can’t thank them enough.

I’ve also found so much joy in learning to cook these past few months. Baked (protein-infused) goods, Chinese dishes, and more, not all of which were successful. (I had to throw away a whole batch of “protein muffins” because they tasted uhh… not like muffins.)

Finally, I simply feel so free. I love enjoying a good cake on birthdays. Savouring that tapioca dessert my mum likes to make on weekends. Eating rice with my stir fry, and cheesy, creamy pasta during social outings. Trying new dishes out of curiosity, unconcerned by its carloric-content or whether it’s going to make me bloat.

Perhaps most important of all, I’m afforded the energy and headspace to live again. Food is great, but it isn’t everything. There’s so much more to life than constantly thinking about what we’re putting in our bodies. I eat to live, not the other way around.

To be continued… and thank you for reading if you made it this far. :) My DMs are open if you want to chat!

Be gentle with yourself,
Meg