On July 10, 2008, I embarked on a journey to get my health back by experimenting with plant-based nutrition.
Being an artist, I wanted to see if food could be an artistic medium. . . so I created an online art exhibit in order to document my discoveries.
For an entire year, I ate three plant-based meals a day.
And, for the first time in my life, I focused on eating instead of not eating.
I flooded my cells with generous amounts of nutrients, and my weary body came to life almost immediately.
By the summer of 2009, I felt great and had lots of energy.
my body released a significant amount of weight
my cholesterol and blood pressures dropped to safe levels
and I got rid of pre-diabetes, low back pain, and a myriad of other ailments
I hired a professional photographer to document the one-year anniversary of my online art exhibit. That photoshoot was so much fun. I had a blast just being me—and I enjoyed every minute of it!
I truly felt like a new person.
For the first time in my adult life, I felt strong and vibrant—I had the energy to be more active—and I enjoyed the simple pleasure of eating without guilt or pressure to be a smaller size.
Restricting and undereating were not a part of my vocabulary. I ate until fully satiated and thoroughly enjoyed each meal.
I only weighed myself once a month.
And it worked beautifully. . .
. . .until it didn’t.
Soon after my transformation, the plant-based brand’s founder invited me to write for a popular health blog, followed by featuring my pictures and story in a couple of best-selling books. I was suddenly thrust into the limelight of being a “poster child”—a very public role model for weight loss and wellness via plant-based nutrition—without realizing the full ramifications of such widespread exposure.
Eventually, my size became an issue.
I was advised to lose ten more pounds in order to fit the brand’s arbitrary ideal weight for my height.
Additionally, as a public persona representing wellness, I was instructed not to get any serious diseases in my future, such as cancer. This unreasonable coercion caused overwhelming anxiety resulting in me developing orthorexia and hypochondria. (Orthorexia is an obsessive preoccupation with eating foods that are healthy—and avoiding foods in the belief they are harmful. Hypochondria is worrying about having or developing a serious illness.)
Instead of using critical thinking skills and common sense, I naively succumbed to the ongoing indoctrination.
Suddenly, the pressure to be as thin and healthy as possible became my top priority. “Nutritional purity” (following a strict dietary regime) became my obsession—and it was normalized and praised. In fact, I received the most applause the darker the fixation became, not to mention the many compliments became intoxicating to my ego.
Admirers called me a rock star.
Fans wanted my autograph.
“You look great!”
“You look thirty years younger!”
“You look like the daughter of your before picture!”
the catcalls
the whistles
the sexual objectification of my body
I was not prepared for any of it; especially, everyone’s laser-sharp focus on my body size and appearance.
But being the people-pleaser I was back then, I wanted to please everyone. Complete strangers were now looking to me for inspiration; for someone to emulate.
What started off as an art exhibit to see if food could be an artistic medium, quickly turned into a Miss America pageant—and I was one of the contestants.
People were not only judging my appearance and size. . .but my health as well.
The culmination of all of these external pressures to meet unrealistic ideals created overwhelming internal distress and anguish.
I didn’t want to disappoint anyone, so I reverted back to an old habit I’d developed in high school: skipping meals in order to quickly lose weight and shrink my waistline.
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 disordered eating behaviors and a full-blown eating disorder.
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 undereat or skip meals altogether in order to have the flattest stomach possible.
If I felt critically judged about my size, I’d fast. (And believe me, people commented on the slightest noticeable weight gain or weight loss. Someone even told me her husband could see a five-pound weight gain on a person’s body. Yikes!)
In all honesty, I thought I was doing the right thing by continually restricting and undereating—combined with periods of fasting—in order to attempt to achieve the brand’s ideal weight.
No one raised any red flags, so I continued down the food-restrictive path, even though I was becoming seriously ill as a result.
My daughter took this picture soon after a professional photoshoot for a magazine. I had fasted in order to be in a smaller size and have a flatter stomach. The vibrant spark was out of me by this time—and I didn’t know how to get it back. The ongoing pressure to achieve a lower body weight opened the door to anorexia; a potentially life-threatening eating disorder. I was trapped.
After a photo shoot or special appearance was over, I’d be so ravenous that I’d break the fast with a food binge.
For example, when I was on a popular TV talk show, for legal purposes, I had to weigh the same amount of weight as what I’d told the producer over the phone the week prior to that day. (As a result of the pressure, I fasted in order to be the smallest size possible—yet, I still wasn’t small enough to fit the ideal size of the brand I was representing at the time.) 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 satisfactory.
The live audience cheered and whistled with gusto.
Sadly, at my sickest is when I received the most praise. . .even from the medical community.
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 was famished. My body suddenly switched into survival mode, and I binged on chocolate covered strawberries. (The hotel staff had left a beautiful platter of them on my bed as a congratulatory gesture for being on the popular TV show.)
I desperately needed help . . . but I didn’t know what to do.
So, I did nothing.
I didn’t want to be a part of this culture anymore—but I felt trapped—because my public persona was now deeply ingrained in being a weight loss-wellness success story. People were looking to me for inspiration and encouragement.
I continued to put pressure on myself to please everyone, even while processing the unexpected and tragic death of one of my sons. 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 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 front of the camera lens. Exposed. Feeling objectified and exploited.
And that was my breaking point. . .the moment my eyes were opened, and I finally realized I was heavily steeped in diet-wellness culture. The cognitive dissonance was real. . .the psychological discomfort of promoting food as medicine while simultaneously participating in weight loss marketing ads and campaigns felt uncomfortably incongruent. I didn’t have the language to articulate my inner turmoil at the time—but that was the day I decided to jump off the toxic conveyor belt.
However, it took several more years to actually make the leap.
The past couple of years have been a slow and gradual healing process. I’ve had to unlearn restrictive dieting practices. . .and learn how to have a healthy relationship with food and my body again.
Joy has returned.
I enjoy eating for nourishment and tasting the subtle flavors of foods again instead of being fixated on precise nutrition and undereating.
And most importantly, I enjoy nourishing my body without guilt or shame. I no longer believe I’m somehow defective—or have a pathological addiction—if I don’t eat 100% perfectly.
I’m also no longer consumed with being an exemplary size or weighing an ideal number, which almost cost me my life.
Additionally, the orthorexia-hypochondria fears have ceased.
I’ve put aside the condescending arrogance of health superiority; achieving “black belt” status based on how committed I am to nutritional excellence and purity. And I’ve quit following influencers who propagate that insidious attitude and narrative as well.
Instead, I nourish my body as best as I’m able and trust that each day is numbered by the Lord. (Job 14:5)
Now, I believe my days are safely secured in God’s hand, and I humbly acknowledge that I have no control over the timing of my death. (Psalm 31:15, Ecclesiastes 8:8) This has freed me—and caused me to live each day to the fullest—instead of living in constant fear of getting serious diseases in my future due to dietary imperfections.
In addition, I no longer allow others to exploit my body to market weight loss, wellness, or longevity. My body is not for profit.
I also no longer skip meals or wear suffocating shapewear in order to have the flattest abs possible.
Now, I guard my mental health; I make it a top priority, because eating disorders are destructive to one’s health and well-being.
Most everyone who diets develops disordered eating behaviors—and one out of four people who restrict food go on to develop full-blown eating disorders. (references linked below)
If not halted, eating disorders can lead to sudden death. Every fifty-two minutes, someone in the U.S. dies from eating disorder complications; primarily cardiovascular complications. And that number is significantly underreported due to the medical industry’s severe lack of knowledge about them.
If I feel a person, place, or event will subconsciously cause me to put pressure on myself to look a certain way, I now distance myself. As a result, I’m free to just be me again.
Why have I decided to share this part of my story?
Because right now, there are others going through similar experiences. There are precious individuals of all ages and from all walks of life, who are suffering from the adverse effects of diet-wellness culture. And they are also developing irrational fears; causing significant distress and high-risk behaviors.
This anxiety can become all-consuming and will drive children, teens, and adults to do irrational and dangerous things to their bodies; causing irreparable damage.
If you are a parent restricting your child’s food or commenting about their size, please stop.
If you are a romantic partner harassing your significant other to lose weight, please stop.
If you are a coach pressuring your athlete to cut weight, please stop.
If you are a healthcare provider shaming and fear-mongering your patient to drop pounds, please stop.
All of the abovementioned tactics will only lead to increased anxiety and the likelihood of developing disordered eating behaviors, which can open the door to full-blown eating disorders.
The ongoing mental distress such pressure induces is a sign of psychological and emotional abuse.
It helps no one.
Please stop.
“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!
I dedicate this post to my late friend Sarah Taylor, who passed away from glioblastoma in 2021. Sarah walked with me through my journey, and the freedom from diet-wellness culture I experience today, is in part, due to her influence and encouragement.
Emily Boller, wife, mother, artist, and author is on a mission to create expressive works of art in her lifetime; and to bring awareness to the potentially harmful traps of diet-wellness culture.
In her free time, she loves to chase skyscapes, grow flowers and vegetables, and can homemade soups.