I’m a 39-year-old mom, a devoted wife, and my daughter’s soccer coach. I fit the mold of an everyday person—neither too skinny nor too heavy, and I laugh often. If you glance at me, you might think I have everything under control, except for my colorful vocabulary.
But there’s a secret I’ve kept to myself: I have an eating disorder.
The reality of eating disorders is far more complicated than the stereotypes suggest. When you think of someone with an eating disorder, you might envision a frail girl, skeletal and fragile, nibbling on a cracker while guzzling coffee. Or perhaps you picture someone who is overweight, secretly binging on pizza and cake, hiding her shame behind closed doors. While both of these images are real, they represent only a small part of a much larger and darker reality—a vast chasm filled with self-loathing and guilt that engulfs countless individuals.
The behaviors of those struggling with this condition can vary widely, but the core thoughts often remain strikingly similar.
FAT.