For most of my teen years and into adulthood, I was an overachiever who maintained straight As while playing varsity sports and competing in multiple martial arts styles. I completed a bachelor’s, master’s, and a PhD program, all while working over 50 hours per week. On top of my academic and professional responsibilities, I rarely missed a gym day. I felt successful on paper, but behind closed doors, I was failing at what mattered the most: my health.
While a large part of society praises those who are driven, the drive can be detrimental. My drive began with grades as a middle schooler, but it also extended to my weight as I got older. At the age of 15, I experienced panic after stepping on the scale and noticing a three-pound weight gain. Up until that point, I had maintained the same weight for over a year. Since I had also stopped growing taller at this age, I feared that the weight gain would be noticeable to others.
I did not know how to diet, but I tried. Cutting back on calories threw me into a cycle of restricting followed by bingeing when the hunger cues got too strong. I stopped allowing myself to have specific foods, including fast food, chips, and basically any food with a nutrition label that showed over 100 calories. I became fixated on food, constantly daydreaming about all the things I craved but wouldn’t allow myself to eat.
At 16, I began to take laxatives to control my weight. On days when I felt I had eaten too much, I would resort to taking laxatives. I would get severe stomach pain from the medication, which led to frequent trips to the restroom. In some instances, I took them the night before a school day. I never missed school, but teachers seemed visibly puzzled by my frequent need to leave the classroom. They never confronted me, and I think it was because I was, overall, a good student.
At age 17, the bingeing stopped for five months, but the restriction became intense. Eventually, after months of restricting, I binged because my body was so nutrient-deprived. I felt immense guilt and panic, so I went to the bathroom and purged my food for the first time. Although I told myself I would not do this again, I fell into full-fledged bulimia, and I binged and purged daily for the next 10 years.
Despite the shame and secrecy of my struggles, I pursued multiple degrees, maintained professional jobs, and continued to perform and compete vigorously in martial arts events and competitions throughout my twenties. Many of my accomplishments were achieved while my physical health declined. I consistently struggled to maintain normal blood tests due to nutritional deficiencies. The physical aspects took a toll on my mental health, manifesting as heightened anxiety and chronic stress. I had spent years wanting to stop the binge/purge cycle, but I lacked the readiness and capacity.
Midway through my doctoral program, the physical toll of my eating disorder was starting to overpower my mental grit to balance life. Not only was I exhausted physically and mentally, but I was terrified that if I did not change, I might not make it to graduation. After a decade of battling, I was finally committed to recovery. I began facing my fears, keeping my food down, and enduring the uncomfortable changes as my body returned to a healthy weight. My drive to recover took over my drive to control my weight, and I finally beat bulimia.
Two years later, I walked across the stage, earning my PhD while free from bulimia. It brought me flashbacks about how I walked my high school graduation, bachelor’s, and master’s graduations with an eating disorder. My first graduation free from it felt surreal.
I can not erase the years I lost to my eating disorder; the social events I did not attend due to food anxiety, or the times I was not level-headed to be fully present in the moment. But I carry with me all that recovery has built. Today, I carry self-compassion and respect for my body. I hold deeper empathy and respect for others struggling in their own way. I have also realized how resilient we all are. No matter how long a struggle lasts, no matter how many setbacks you endure, you can have an amazing ending to your own story.
by Valli Vida Gideons 
by Rhonda Ellis 
by Christine Derengowski 
