No, I’m not anorexic

The first time I learned about eating disorders was in 6th grade. It was fascinating to me because I had never learned about anything like that before. I eventually developed a love for psychology and the way the human brain works, but back then, it was just interesting because it was new.

I guess it was interesting to other people too, because I heard the words “anorexia” and “bulimia” thrown around a lot. Learning about eating disorders didn’t affect me until two years later, in 8th grade.

I was sitting at my usual table, surrounded by my friends. We had the privilege of sitting outside with the P.E. teachers, but they weren’t there that day so it was just us. As I sat there, eating my school-bought lunch, the topic of anorexia came up.

And then I heard one of my friends say something that I will never forget.

“Brynna, you’re so skinny! You probably have anorexia,” she said.

After processing her words, I looked down at the half eaten food on my tray. Then I pointed out that I was sitting there, eating food right in front of them.

“Oh, you must have bulimia then,” she said, shrugging as if it were obvious. The group then voted that I was “most likely to become anorexic.”

Then they changed the subject, but my mind was stuck on that. I wasn’t super skinny, but did people really think that?

A couple months later, a girl in our grade was sent to rehab for anorexia, and my friends stopped accusing me of having an eating disorder. However, the topic has never really left my life.

My best friend, Elizabeth, is skinnier than I am. We both have extremely fast metabolisms and we love to eat, we just don’t gain weight. It’s a blessing and a curse.

I learned more about eating disorders when I took advanced psychology for two and a half years in high school. I wrote a thesis paper on the correlation between anorexia and ballet my senior year. I began to understand the disorders better, but it seemed like other people just weren’t getting it.

About a week before Elizabeth and I graduated high school, we were walking down the hallway when someone walked by.

“Eat a cheeseburger!” he yelled.

“Buy me one,” Elizabeth responded.

We were both so done with being the brunt of anorexia jokes that she used those comebacks as a defense mechanism. I just ignored it.

We both thought that once we got to college, the accusations would stop, but we were wrong.

Last semester, we were at the grocery store when the cashier took one glance at Elizabeth and began to speak.

“Oh honey, you need to eat more.”

Elizabeth was at a loss for words. What are you supposed to say to an older woman, who is clearly trying to be helpful, but ends up being offensive?

That was the moment I realized that anorexia misconceptions and accusations may never escape the naturally skinny people.

Something I’ve learned about anorexia over the years is that psychologists and scientists can’t seem to agree on what truly causes eating disorders. Psychologists know that schizophrenia is genetic due to the way a brain is wired. They know that multiple personality disorder is caused by a traumatic experience and it’s the way some brains cope. And yet, there is no one answer for eating disorders.

When I learned about eating disorders in 6th grade, I thought there was only anorexia and bulimia, but there is so much more than that.

According to the National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders, Inc. (ANAD), there are actually at least six different types of eating disorders.

ANAD has also found that at least one person dies of an eating disorder every 62 minutes. That means that at least 23 people die because of an eating disorder every day. That’s nearly 8,500 every year.

On average, 5 people die from shark attacks annually. That’s almost 170,000 times less than that of eating disorders, and yet more people talk about the shark attacks.

On a global scale, celebrities who have recovered from eating disorders are seen as inspirations to those struggling, but then society turns back around and accuses models of being too skinny.

In 2016, social media users accused Victoria’s Secret model Bridget Malcolm of being anorexic. Eventually, she responded to the accusations by saying “eating disorders are a mental disorder and a horrific thing for people and their loved ones to go through.”

It seems pretty messed up to accuse someone of having an eating disorder. It hurts to hear someone say “you probably have anorexia” or “eat a cheeseburger,” when you know the truth about yourself. Eating disorders are not life decisions. People with eating disorders can lose control and take things way too far. It isn’t a light subject.

So why do we talk about it so flippantly?

It worries me that there is such a lack of knowledge about eating disorders, especially among college students. In college, it’s so easy to skip meals. I’m guilty of that, I do it all the time. It’s unintentional, but I sleep in late and have to go straight to class. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I often don’t end up eating until late evening.

I don’t skip meals with the intent of losing weight. In fact, a lot of the time I just forget to eat, and I’m not the only one. BioMed Central found that between 14 and 88 percent of college students skip breakfast, and up to 57 percent skip lunch or dinner.

On top of that, a lot of college students are obsessed with their weight.

According to the Walden Center for Education and Research, 91 percent of female college students have attempted to control their weight through dieting. We joke about the “Freshman 15,” then Campus Rec hosts events with free food. Stress eating is real, but so is losing your appetite because of stress.

As college students, we have the freedom to sleep in, to skip meals, to stop eating all together. But judging people for skipping meals is not a solution. Telling people to eat is not a solution. Telling me that I’ll probably become anorexic is not funny.

I don’t have anorexia, but I know people who did. If we change our perceptions of eating disorders and how we talk about it, perhaps the number of students with eating disorders will decrease.

Maybe the first step to recovery isn’t admitting you have a problem. Maybe it’s better education.