The comments started the day I became engaged in December 2018:
“You’re going to be such a beautiful bride.” “I can’t wait to see you in your
dress.” “Everything is going to be perfect”.
اضافة اعلان
Before my fiance and I even booked our wedding date, originally
April 25, 2020, or saved a color scheme on Pinterest, I felt an intensifying
pressure to live up to the high expectations that I thought my friends and
family already had for my wedding day. I was determined to meet those
expectations.
But the innocent, wedding-driven diet that commenced shortly
after my engagement ultimately spiraled into a full-fledged eating disorder. I
was shocked by how quickly I fell ill and how deep that illness was.
There was nothing about my journey, however, that surprised
Robyn Goldberg, a registered dietitian, and author of “The Eating Disorder
Trap”.
“The research shows 1 out of 3 people who diet develop an eating
disorder — it’s very, very common,” said Goldberg, who has worked in private
practice for the past 25 years with clients who have eating disorders,
including many future brides. Some have ended up in residential treatment, she
said. “You get so consumed that to pull yourself out of that dark hole seems
impossible.”
In the early days of wedding planning, my lifestyle changes were
subtle. I bought an elliptical machine, took note of my calorie intake, and
found healthier meal options. But when the pandemic hit and kept me at home
with my gym equipment, measuring cups and extra time on my hands, the
opportunities to try new weight-loss methods and obsess over my progress grew.
It also forced us to postpone our wedding date.
In just a few months, I was severely limiting my calorie intake,
weighing myself several times a day and adhering to strict, self-proclaimed
exercise rules.
Before my engagement, I had never heard of intermittent fasting,
but it did no take long for me to master it.
These behavioral changes happened so gradually that I did not
even recognize something was wrong until nearly two years later. By then I had
lost 50 pounds, although initially I had wanted to shed only 25.
The number of women younger than 30 with eating disorders rose 15.3 percent, according to a 2021 study published in The British Journal of Psychiatry. And since the start of the pandemic, the National Eating Disorder Association help line has reported a 107 percent jump in people seeking help.
My emotions became closely intertwined with my diet agenda. If
my morning weigh-in was 0.2 pounds higher than the previous day, my entire day
was ruined. And if the scale read 0.2 pounds less, I spent the day cautiously
choosing a meal plan that would ensure that the fifth of a pound would not
return the next day. I went so far as not to allow myself to drink water in the
late evening or overnight, so that it would not affect the scale the next
morning.
My personality also changed. I began arguing with my fiance for
the first time. I panicked if I could not eat alone. I cried when friends asked
if I wanted to meet over ice cream or pancakes. I went to bed whenever I
started to feel hungry so I wouldn’t have to worry about it.
Worst of all, I was careful to keep all of these behaviors
hidden, eliminating any chances for the people in my life to intervene.
An inward pandemicCOVID-19 made us postpone our wedding. We ended up marrying
September 19, 2020, but postponed our large reception to September 11, 2021,
which meant more time to ensure my body was “dress ready”.
This lengthened my wedding-planning period to two and a half
years, giving my newly developed disordered eating habits ample time to
solidify and making them harder to break.
I quickly became acclimated to new, even higher perceived
expectations from comments from family and friends such as “When your wedding
day does arrive, it’ll be even more worth the wait.” Consistently earning
praise from those around me for my weight loss only fueled that line of thinking
further.
I felt as if I were the only one going through this, but
clinical experts say the situation is more common than you would think.
“If you’re dieting and then have an extension of dieting caused
by a global pandemic, it’s like throwing gasoline on an already-lit fire,” said
Becca Clegg, an eating-disorder specialist and author of “Ending the Diet
Mindset”. “Someone can think they’re trying to lose weight for a wedding, and
before you know it, they’re in this compulsive relationship with regulating
their food”
Eating disorders have become more common during the pandemic,
especially among young women.
The number of women younger than 30 with eating disorders rose
15.3 percent, according to a 2021 study published in The British Journal of
Psychiatry. And since the start of the pandemic, the National Eating Disorder
Association help line has reported a 107 percent jump in people seeking help.
Some probable factors in the increase in disordered eating are
isolation, difficulty in coping with emotions and a desire to control something
in a highly unpredictable environment.
The rise in virtual meetings may have also played a role, Clegg
said, as people began looking at themselves far more often than they normally
would have. “This has caused an uptick in fixation, dysregulation with anxiety
and going back into dieting behaviors,” she said.
Thom Rutledge, a psychotherapist with more than 40 years of
clinical experience and co-author of “Life Without Ed,” thinks we are living in
a “diet culture”.
“So much eating-disorder thinking is so normalized in our
world,” he said. “People don’t even question you when you say, ‘I need to lose
weight to fit into that dress.’ Nobody flinches, and that’s a very negative
view of yourself.”
The pendulum effectAfter my official wedding, I decided to take a break from
restricting my food intake until closer to my reception. Food freedom, I told
myself, would begin with my wedding cake.
It took less than two months for me to become trapped in a cycle
of bingeing and restricting that I fastened to my self-worth, which is one of
the characteristics of bulimia. I would binge because I could, restrict because
I felt ashamed, then binge out of starvation before I even realized it was
happening.
It was not until I binged an entire loaf of bread straight from
the package in under 15 minutes that I realized I needed help. My husband found
me on the kitchen floor, sobbing, and doubled over in pain from being so full.
According to Rutledge, wedding-related eating disorders almost
always grow worse after the event. “People don’t usually show up in therapy
around the time of the wedding — they show up afterward,” he said. “And soon
after that, some of them end up dealing with the same stuff when they’re having
babies. Don’t be too quick to assume that it’s just a momentary thing. Do
yourself, your marriage, and your family a favor and pay attention afterward.”
The National Eating Disorder Association helped me connect with
a therapist in my area, who then referred me to a psychiatrist to discuss
whether medication might help. (It did.) It took a while to develop an
effective treatment plan with the right balance of medication and
psychotherapy. But once we did, it made a world of difference.
Alternatives to dietingInstead of dieting before a wedding, here is some advice from
experts on what to do instead:
— Focus on what you can eat more of instead of what you can eat
less of. This could include fruit, leafy greens, or other healthy foods.
— Learn to be more conscious and present when eating.
— Explore foods you find to be both physically and emotionally
satisfying.
— Avoid preset diets if you are at risk for an eating disorder
or have had one in the past. Instead, let hunger be your compass.
— If you are struggling with your body image, talk to someone or
seek professional help.
Knowing that eating disorders do not go away on their own has
been hard for me to accept. I find myself frustrated that even though I had
previously spent nine years in therapy, I was never once told that my history
of anxiety and depression predisposed me to developing an eating disorder.
Full recovery is also possible. Clegg says she has been
recovered for more than 20 years. And through patience and grace, I, too, can
see a way out.
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