I had this random thought in a session this week. How come some people look at their addicted parents and think oh God, I don’t want to be anything like that, but the same person can look at that same parent and see their dieting and workouts as admirable? I have worked with many clients who have seen their parents’ behaviors as things they wanted to stay clear from, addiction, divorce, domestic violence. But at the same time, they look at their parents’ disordered eating and dieting as admirable, all while these behaviors cause similar harm and torment. Why is that?

           I was thinking about my own Mom’s disordered behaviors, and I remember plenty of positives like going out to buy new clothes when she lost weight, her excitement as she noticed her progress at the gym, the praise that family and friends gave her for her weight loss. Those memories stick out to me, but I never really thought much about the negative memories related to the same behaviors. I never thought about her constantly asking me if she was fatter than the woman in front of us at the check outline. I don’t remember her calling herself “bad” after eating too much. I don’t think about the ambulance ride when her pulse dropped too low. I don’t think about the secretive eating or the times we felt sick together after we binged. Some of these things even became inside jokes between us. It wasn’t funny. None of it was.

           Our eating disorders hold on to those positive memories and glamorize them. We use these memories as kids to justify why we need to buy into diet culture. We believe controlling our weight is the key to our happiness. This is an incredibly dangerous mindset to have, and I COMPLETELY fell into it as a kid. I held onto those positive memories and believed that I could have fun shopping trips, constant compliments, and praise if I were as thin as humanely possible. I assume this is due to the toxic diet culture we live in, but what if I had someone who could have helped me dig a little further below the surface? My Mom was in obsession and pain. None of it was glamorous. None of it was fun.

           My Mom today still doesn’t acknowledge her eating disorder. This is beyond frustrating, but it’s her journey, not mine (I constantly have to tell myself this). This reflection isn’t meant to blame her, but instead, reflect on why as a society, we see the negative caused by other maladaptive coping skills and are often motivated to live differently, but we hold on to the glamour and excitement of our family’s eating disorders and fall right into the same traps. We mindlessly fall right into the same painful paths that are right before us. How can we help future generations see these behaviors and steer clear of them? How can we spread the truth of what life in an eating disorder or even disordered eating is like? We need to talk about this.