More than fifteen years ago, I lost a significant amount of weight.
Being an artist, I documented the weight loss journey as a part of an online art exhibit that I had created.
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, I was showered with compliments and invited to write for a notable wellness blog. I genuinely wanted to inspire others, so I naively jumped at the chance to “pay it forward” and help with marketing.
Suddenly, I was thrust into the limelight of being a “poster child”—a very public role model for weight loss and wellness—without realizing the full ramifications of such widespread exposure.
Eventually, I was encouraged to lose ten more pounds. Then, as a public persona representing wellness, I was also instructed not to get any serious diseases in my future such as cancer.
My pictures and story were featured in a couple of New York Times bestselling books; my picture was plastered on the front cover of a popular woman’s magazine sold at every checkout lane in America; and I was even asked to appear on a celebrity doctor’s TV show.
Instead of using critical thinking skills and common sense, I naively succumbed to gradual indoctrination.
The multifaceted public and private pressures be a small size and emulate optimal health, gradually built up and caused overwhelming anxiety; resulting in me developing orthorexia, hypochondria, and scopophobia.
(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; and scopophobia is the fear of being seen and judged by others.)
Nutritional purity (aka “precision nutrition”), which is following a strict dietary regime, became my obsession—and sadly, it was normalized and praised.
In fact, I received the most applause the darker the fixation became, not to mention the many compliments from complete strangers 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
While walking to my hotel in downtown Manhattan after a professional makeup session for a TV show, a well-dressed man approached and asked me to marry him!
I was not prepared for any of it; especially, everyone’s laser-sharp focus on my size and appearance.
I couldn’t even use a public restroom in peace; without someone clamoring for my attention. It was ridiculous.
But being the altruistic people-pleaser I was back then, I wanted to please everyone. Fans were now looking to me for inspiration; for someone to emulate.
My life 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 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 evantually, a full-blown eating disorder.
A magazine editor would ask: “Do you weigh 133 or 138 pounds?”
I wanted to be the lower number, so I’d fast for several days in order to quickly achieve it.
If I knew a photo shoot was approaching, I’d under eat or skip meals altogether in order to have the flattest stomach possible.
If I felt critically judged about my size, I’d fast. (Someone even told me their spouse could see a five-pound weight gain on a person. Yikes!)
In all honesty, I thought I was doing the right thing by continually restricting and undereating—combined with periods of fasting—in an attempt to achieve the ever allusive “ideal” weight.
No one raised any red flags, so I continued down the food-restrictive path.
Even though I was becoming seriously ill with anorexia, followed by binge eating episodes, no one seemed to notice my dangerous decline.
I myself didn’t fully realize I was trapped in an eating disorder.
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. . .my body’s survival mechanism.
For example, when I was on the celebrity doctor’s TV 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.
So, I fasted for seven days—consuming only water for that entire week. (Ironically, the title of that episode was The 7-Day Crash Diet.)
A medical intern brought a scale into the green room to check my weight. He needed to make sure the number matched the one I had told the producer. I was fully clothed, mic’d, and wearing jewelry and shoes. Thankfully, my weight was spot on.
When I stepped onto the stage—while my before picture was being projected onto a jumbo screen for millions to see—the live audience roared and whistled with gusto.
It’s a miracle I didn’t pass out under the blinding bright lights due to being weak and lightheaded from fasting!
Sadly, at my sickest I received the most praise—especially from the medical community.
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 high control culture anymore—but I felt trapped and didn’t know how to escape it.
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, 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, the scales of denial fell off, and I realized I was grossly entangled in a high-control diet cult.
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.
As I sought professional help, the rose-colored glasses of diet-wellness culture slowly came off.
Ironically, the further I removed myself, the healthier I became.
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. And sadly, I’ve had to learn how to function in life again without engaging in non-stop food talk.
As a result, joy and sanity have returned.
I now enjoy eating for nourishment and tasting the subtle flavors of foods again instead of being fixated on precise nutrition and undereating. I also enjoy socializing with people who aren’t laser-focused on food, health, and wellness.
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 not getting a serious disease such as cancer. As a result, the orthorexia-hypochondria fears have ceased.
I’ve put aside the condescending arrogance of health superiority; achieving an elite status based on how committed I am to dietary 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)
Knowing that God has ordained my days has freed me—and has 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. 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 drastic 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.
Here’s to your good health for you and your loved ones!
The 7-Day Crash Diet
“And here’s Emily, 102 pounds thinner! Come on out, Emily.”
Dying in Plain Sight:
Emily Boller, wife, mother, painter, 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.