It’s time to share this part of my story.
My closest friends and family know the struggles I’ve had as a result of being a weight loss “success story;” but it’s time to come out of the closet in the hopes it will help others find freedom too.
Starting on July 10, 2008, I embarked on a journey to get my health back by following Eat to Live.
Being an artist, I wanted to see if food could be an artistic medium. . . so I created The Transformation Art Exhibit in order to document my discoveries.
For an entire year, I ate three, high-nutrient meals every day.
And, for the first time in my life, I was focused on eating instead of not eating.
I flooded my cells with generous amounts of nutrients, and my significantly malnourished body came to life almost immediately!
By the summer of 2009, people noticed the weight loss and glowing complexion. I felt great. I had dropped 100 pounds of highly-inflammatory fat cells; dropped my high blood pressure and cholesterol to safe levels; got rid of my pre-diabetes, low back pain, and a myriad of other ailments.
I truly felt like a new person.
For the first time in my adult life, I felt vibrant!
For the first time in my adult life, I enjoyed the pleasure of eating without guilt or pressure to be a smaller size.
And it worked beautifully. . . until it didn’t.
As the public desperately clamored for anyone to inspire them, I suddenly became a “Nutritarian Rock Star”. . .a phrase others called me. (I hated the label, but I remained silent.)
I was a poster child; I became a role model for weight loss.
Suddenly, the pressure to be as thin as possible became overwhelming.
And instantly people started commenting on my appearance.
“You look great!”
“You look thirty years younger!”
“You look like the daughter of your before picture!”
I even had a gentleman stop me on a street in Manhattan to ask me to marry him!
The catcalls.
The whistles.
I was not psychologically prepared for any of it: the nonstop accolades--and especially everyone’s focus on my body size and appearance.
But being the people-pleaser that I was back then, I wanted to please everyone.
I didn’t want to disappoint anyone who was now looking to me for inspiration; for someone to emulate.
But what started off as an art exhibit to get my health back; quickly turned into a Miss America pageant, and I was one of the contestants. People were judging my looks.
If you’ve read my book, STARVED TO OBESITY, you know about my life-long struggle with an eating disorder that manifested in various forms throughout my life: anorexia, atypical anorexia, binge eating, bulimia (purging via fasting)..
The development of my eating disorder started by a well-meaning parent restricting my food at age six in an attempt to shrink my body size. . . which opened the door for me to secretly find ways to sneak food and binge eat without anyone knowing about it. What I didn’t know at age six was that my rapidly developing brain was desperately seeking nutrients and calories.
This exposure to extreme food restriction at such a young age, and then secretly bingeing afterwards, set me on the trajectory of developing a full-blown eating disorder. And it nearly killed me several years later.
So back to suddenly being thrown into the limelight of being a weight loss success story--and wanting to please everyone and not disappoint anyone--I reverted back to an old habit I’d developed in high school: skipping meals in order to rapidly lose weight.
As a poster child for getting my health back, I was also becoming another poster child without realizing it.
Unbeknownst to me, I was becoming a poster child for eating disorders.
A magazine editor would ask: “Do you weigh 133 pounds or 138 pounds?”
I wanted to be the lower number, so I’d fast for a couple of days in order to quickly achieve it.
If I knew a photo shoot was approaching, I’d skip meals in order to have the flattest stomach possible.
If I felt critically judged about my body size, I’d fast. (And believe me, people commented on the slightest noticeable weight gain or weight loss.)
And then I’d secretly binge as soon as the event or photo shoot was over.
For example, when I was on The Dr. Oz Show: for legal purposes, I had to weigh the same weight as what I’d told the producer over the phone the week prior to that day. A medical intern brought a scale into the green room to check my weight—to make sure it matched what I’d told the producer. I was fully clothed, mic’d, and wearing jewelry and shoes. Thankfully, the weight was spot on.
The internal pressure—and the external pressure—to be as thin as possible was intense.
As soon as I returned to my hotel room, I secretly binged on chocolate covered strawberries. (The hotel had left a beautiful platter of them on my bed as a congratulatory gesture for being on Dr. Oz’s show.)
I desperately needed help . . . but I didn’t know what to do.
So, I did nothing.
I continued to put pressure on myself to please everyone, even while processing the tragic death of a son. I continued to show up at events with a smile in the midst of dealing with a completely shattered and traumatized heart.
Health was no longer my primary focus. By this time, that ship had sailed.
My tipping point was being in the midst a group of people who’d lost a significant amount of weight.
We were instructed to line up in a hallway for a photo shoot.
One by one, we were each in the spotlight.
The photographer wanted a front view, side view, and back view.
Our bodies were on display.
As I stood there waiting my turn, I felt as if we were livestock at the county fair lined up for the judges’ critiques: front view, side view, back view. . .blue ribbon, purple ribbon, or Grand Champion ribbon.
I should’ve bolted.
But I didn’t.
I succumbed to the peer pressure.
I dutifully stood in place for the camera: front view, side view, back view.
And that’s the moment I decided to leap off the conveyor belt of public scrutiny.
To this day, and my family can testify, I’m camera-shy. I hate having my picture taken. “Cameraphobia” is the technical name for it.
I don’t want to be judged; and praise can be just as damaging as criticism.
Praise can set one up for feeling like a failure if they don’t continually live up to that high standard of expectation. Feeling like a failure damages self-esteem. . . and a damaged self-image fuels eating disorders.
It took a tick bite in the summer of 2022 to wake me up.
I got to witness the life-saving benefits of eating for health.
This past year, I’ve eaten only for the sake of my health.
And guess what happened?
I feel like I did in back in 2009. . . before I was in the limelight.
Joy has returned.
I enjoy eating for nourishment again. I enjoy tasting the subtle flavors of whole foods again.
And most importantly, I enjoy eating without guilt again—or worrying about being an ideal weight that others arbitrarily expect of me.
I no longer care if my hair is brown or gray. I no longer dye it with toxic chemicals in order to appear younger.
I no longer care if I look thirty-two or sixty-two.
I no longer care if my stomach is flat or flabby.
And I no longer care if I’m aesthetically a disappointment to others or not.
Now, I guard my mental health; I make it a top priority, because eating disorders are destructive to one’s health and well-being. Eating disorders of all kinds can prohibit a person from reaching a favorable weight that facilitates optimal health.
And if not halted, eating disorders can lead to sudden death. In fact, they’re among the deadliest mental illnesses, second only to opioid overdoses. Every fifty-two minutes, someone dies by an eating disorder; and that number is significantly underreported due to the medical community’s severe lack of knowledge about them. (Twenty-six percent of people with eating disorders also attempt suicide.)
If I feel a person, place, or event will subconsciously cause me to put internal pressure on myself to look a certain way, I now distance myself.
As a result, I’m free to just be me again.
“Dear friend, I pray that you may enjoy good health and that all may go well with you, even as your soul is getting along well.” (3 John 2:1)
Here’s to your good health too!
To read more on this topic: Trapped by Diet Culture
Emily Boller, artist, mother, and author of Starved to Obesity, lost 100 pounds more than fifteen years ago by eating an abundance of high-nutrient, plant-rich food. Today, she’s certified in whole plant food nutrition from the Nutritarian Education Institute. She’s on a mission to combine practical, no-nonsense and cost-effective tips—with easy to understand science—in order to help anyone escape the addictive grip of the Standard American Diet. And now, she’s on a mission to bring awareness to the suffocating and potentially deadly trap of eating disorders as well.