I Thought I Could Handle My Eating Disorder on My Own Because It Didn’t Happen Every Day — but I Was Wrong.

As told to Marnie Goodfriend.

February 24 - March 3, 2025, is National Eating Disorders Awareness Week.

I remember the first time it happened — my first bulimic episode. I was in Cape Town for the summer, working for a legal organization after finishing my first year of law school. I didn’t think much of it. The binging and purging only happened occasionally, so it was easy to lock this dysfunction away in a box, similar to the way I handled growing up in an unpredictable home that was joyful but also full of fighting, screaming and sadness.

After leaving home at 22, my life became more peaceful, but I always expected a monster to appear around the corner. A year later, I didn't know how to function without the chaos I was used to, so my mind recreated it in another way. I hadn’t yet realized the profound impact that my family dysfunction had had on me. And, being in law school, I also found myself in an atmosphere where people constantly judged themselves and others. I was an overachiever who pushed down my emotions, so there were years of pent-up trauma inside me. Binging and purging was somehow self-soothing and a release from all these stressors.

I also began obsessing over how I looked and was constantly critiquing my body. I thought the world would end if I ate a tiny bag of chocolate almonds. How could I possibly allow myself to do that? I’ve screwed up beyond all recognition. That was my thought pattern. The voice inside my head was so negative and judgemental. I never liked what I saw in the mirror. Even when I wasn’t binging and purging, I had ever-present thoughts of restricting and a hyperfixation on my body.

My eating disorder was a shameful thing I kept hidden from the world. From the outside, my life looked very put together, which made it harder to admit what was really going on. As an accomplished, smart and successful woman, I thought, “I've got this. I can solve this problem on my own.”

That’s the challenge of having an invisible disorder — nobody knows. I continued to beat myself up and wondered why bulimia had such a chokehold over me. And, after each episode, I experienced bouts of depression.

When I searched online for a way to “solve” bulimia, everything pointed to getting help. But for years, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was embarrassed and ashamed.

It was easy to convince myself I could deal with this problem on my own because I went for long stretches of time without binging and purging. Then, the pandemic hit and the world got quiet. My episodes started happening more frequently, and I had more time to step back and think about my life. That's when I finally connected with my first therapist. They asked me to write a list of things I said to myself when I looked in the mirror. It was a painful experience I’ll never forget.

By this time, my friends and family knew about my disorder, but I downplayed it and told them it was under control. My parents even had an intervention, but I told them I was getting the help I needed, so they left it alone. After just six sessions with my first therapist, my symptoms stopped. I quickly thought I was healed and my eating disorder was behind me. I now know we had only scratched the surface of the work that needed to be done. I went on to see several other therapists for short periods of time.

Then, I got into a new relationship that furthered my false belief that I was “healed.” My symptoms occurred only when he was away. We were two broken people latching on to each other, so I felt like I had support, but it was a Band-Aid over all this other pain I had not yet worked through. I now know this person was never healthy, but I found short-term relief in being with him.

Our painful breakup was a major turning point for me. I found a therapist who also had an eating disorder and experience with bulimia. I felt seen and not judged by her. She would come to my house and sit on my couch, creating the layer of safety I needed to open up. I learned how to disengage from negative thought patterns around food. Unlike sobriety from alcohol or substances, you still have to engage with food, which requires constant awareness and catching your problematic thoughts before they take over. The therapist’s nutrition-focused approach reinvigorated my love of cooking. I got creative in the kitchen and enjoyed preparing meals for myself and others again. She also connected me with a breathwork practitioner, and those sessions enabled me to shift my mindset and let go of past traumas.

I feel immensely grateful for where I am today, as there were many times when I never thought I would get to a place where I have a healthy relationship with food. As part of my healing journey, I started working with the National Eating Disorders Association to help others experiencing what I did. As a board member, I support their mission to change the way eating disorders are recognized, understood and treated so those who are affected can achieve recovery and lasting well-being.

I believe there is a reason for everything. For me, my eating disorder led me to deep soul work, greater self-understanding, compassion, a thriving relationship with myself and my family, and the opportunity to make a difference in the world. There is always a path forward, beginning with letting others in who see you and support you.

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