Moving the focus to male eating disorders

One anonymous writer gives us her very personal insight…

Being in love is an overwhelming, euphoric feeling. I am a hopeless sentimentalist and I can’t help myself but feel blessed that I am in a happy and healthy relationship. When I look at my boyfriend, I see someone I adore. He is ridiculously intelligent – he always has something interesting to tell me. He makes me laugh, a lot. He’s always there to make me a cup of tea and lend a listening ear when I’ve had a bad day. I also think that he is beautiful.

When I met my boyfriend, he came across as self-confident and outgoing. Once we had been together a while, we opened up to each other about our insecurities and our personal history. We learnt a lot about each other and know each other better than anyone else does. It was then that I learned he does not think he is beautiful.

It breaks my heart that he will never be comfortable in his own skin, because to me, he is perfect.

He told me that in high school, he always felt different – he struggled to relate to other kids his age. He was overweight and, following his parents’ hostile separation, he spiralled into depression. Having almost no control over his school nor his home life, he decided to take control of something he believed was ostracising him from his peers: his weight. It was then, at the age of just twelve, he began his long battle with anorexia and bulimia. He told me how he rapidly lost weight. He followed a strict routine of exercise consisting of sit-ups, press-ups and fifteen minutes of running before every meal, all hidden away in the bathroom. He reduced his food intake dramatically. He would sprint the distance of his paper round. He read Paul McKenna’s I Can Make You Thin and memorised the techniques the book advised to further deter himself from eating.

My boyfriend has always been a very successful and highly competitive person in every aspect of his life. Getting a first is normal for him. He’s the reigning champion of our house-mate league of Mario Kart. His desire to succeed only worsened his eating disorder. He described losing weight as “like a game” – he would always have to weigh less every time he got on the scales. Unfortunately he was winning this “game” too. He lost a massive two stone in two months, and it was then people started to notice. His mum decided to intervene and took him to the doctors. The doctor asked him if he’d changed his diet or exercise. He lied and said he hadn’t changed a thing. The doctor dismissed his dramatic weight loss as a growth spurt and prescribed him high-calorie milkshakes to help him get back to a normal weight.

But it didn’t end there. By the age of thirteen, he weighed a meagre six and a half stone and was hospitalised. He had to stop going to school for a while, and upon his return, he was on a reduced timetable until he was deemed to have recovered. Things changed, but his battle had barely begun. Now everyone was aware that he was suffering from anorexia, he was heavily supervised, meaning he couldn’t return to his routine of vigorous exercise and minimal eating. So instead, he began purging. Bulimia became a part of everyday life for him until the age of almost sixteen. Although he is now a healthy weight, the anxieties which triggered his descent into eating disorders have never left him. He still experiences bouts of body dysmorphia and has relapsed into bulimia during his time at Warwick. He said “part of me is always going to be like that. I’m too scared to ever own a set of bathroom scales in case those feelings come back. I was overweight, and, in hindsight, I’m kind of glad I lost the weight, but at times I wish I was still that skinny.”

Around one in 250 women and one in 2,000 men will experience anorexia nervosa at some point.

I think he is beautiful. I love his big smile. I love his floppy hair. I love his body. I love him. It turns out skinny and bookish is my type, and I like it that way. It breaks my heart that he will never be comfortable in his own skin, because to me, he is perfect.

When I first met him, that chatty, joke-cracking fresher, I would’ve never guessed that he felt like that. Having never suffered from an eating disorder myself, I will never understand how it feels to desperately want to change myself. There is one thing I can offer him, and that is my unconditional support. Telling him he has no weight to lose and that I think he’s gorgeous won’t change the way he views himself, but this time, I’m the one making tea and listening. If you’re worried about someone who you think may be suffering from an eating disorder, your support can be invaluable. To you, they may be perfect, but to themselves, they are not. Around one in 250 women and one in 2,000 men will experience anorexia nervosa at some point. Bulimia is around five times more common than anorexia and 90 percent of people with bulimia are female. However, eating disorders are not limited to weight loss; binge eating usually affects males and females equally and is more common among adults.

Try not to advise or criticise your loved one, even though you’re understandably concerned and frustrated by the situation, this isn’t going to solve anything. Try and build their self-esteem by complimenting non-physical attributes. Suggest they seek help from a GP, a counsellor or an eating disorder helpline such as Beat. They may be reluctant, but being non-judgemental and supportive can make all the difference.

If you’ve been affected or would like more information about the topics covered in this article, why not take a look at the current B-Eat campaign, raising awareness on male eating disorders, at www.beatthesilence.org.uk.

Photo: @beatED/Twitter