For years, I found myself trapped in a cycle of diet culture, self-criticism, and a constant battle with my body image. My worth seemed to be tied to a number on the scale or a clothing size, and the relentless pursuit of perfection left me feeling hopeless and lost.
Looking back now, I realize that the path to healing isn’t about losing weight or fitting into a certain size—it's about cultivating hope, setting realistic goals, and, most importantly, learning to love myself.
I often look in the mirror and think,
It’s over. I can never be the old me.
But then I ask myself, was I truly happy in the past? The answer is no.
I wasn’t making any great or sustainable efforts for my body back then. I was stuck in a cycle of hunger, body hatred, and trying every fad diet that promises quick results.
What is a Fad Diet?
A fad diet is a popular eating plan that promises quick weight loss or other health benefits but often lacks scientific evidence and sustainability.
Here are some common characteristics of fad diets:
- Restrictive: Eliminates or severely restricts certain food groups.
- Quick Fix: Focuses on rapid results, not long-term health.
- Nutritionally Imbalanced: Often lacks essential nutrients needed for overall well-being.
- Short-Lived: Difficult to maintain over time, leading to a cycle of weight loss and regain.
- Not Backed by Science: Lacks credible research and endorsement from health professionals.
On top of that, my life outside of dieting was filled with toxic workplaces and people who never truly liked me, yet I constantly tried so hard to gain their approval.
This made me feel even worse about myself and contributed to my overall sense of unhappiness.
When everything fell apart—removing myself from toxic environments and distancing from harmful influences—I noticed that my binge eating habits started to fade.
Without the constant stress of negative people and the pressures of diet culture, I no longer felt the urge to use food as a way to cope. It became clear that those toxic influences and unresolved traumas were driving my disordered eating behaviors.
This realization connects to what I discussed in my first blog about how external pressures and unresolved emotions can lead to unhealthy eating patterns. With this new understanding, I decided to start small and focus on positive changes. I tried Ring Fit for light exercise, began reducing sugar with my boyfriend, and, importantly, made sure none of these changes felt forced.
I also used my ADHD medication to help me stay focused, and I turned my attention towards my passions—blogging, content creation, and being a co-founder. Rather than letting myself spiral into depression, I chose to invest in my dreams.
The Reality of Healing From Diet Culture
Yes, every bad thing is slowly leaving my life, but not without a bit of a shadow. Life isn’t always perfect; it isn’t always a 10 out of 10.
After all the trauma and negative experiences I’ve endured, I still struggle with high anxiety and sometimes feel hopeless about my body. However, I’m learning to live with these feelings while continuing on my path to healing. I realized hope is everything.
The reason I had no hope was that I had no goal, no path, and no self-love. I started to see that these things had been missing from my life for a long time, and each had its own reason:
Redefining My Goals
I used to like diets, and now I’m glad I don’t have to calculate every calorie or obsess over every bite.
I don't need to diet every day or starve myself only to binge later. I have the freedom to eat what I want, and that’s a huge relief. Getting to this point wasn’t easy—it took a lot of hard times.
I remember crying alone, not sharing my pain with anyone, or having my family see me, I felt hopeless at my job, not liked my colleagues, and uncertain about my career.
But thank God, I’m over that now. I eat, I maintain my current weight—which is more than before—but I’m okay with that.
I know, I’m not fully recovered; I’m just finding my way through things.
So, I prefer to stay without a specific goal for weight loss rather than go back to that painful place. And that’s perfectly fine for me.
I’ve realized the goal shouldn’t be losing weight. I always remind myself: if you eat too much or too little, take note of how you feel, because you deserve to feel good about yourself no matter what.
Finding My Path
For a long time, I felt lost because I didn’t have a clear path. I knew a lot of stuff, sure—I was familiar with all the diet tricks and weight loss strategies, the kind that tells you exactly how many calories to eat and what exercises to do.
You know, the typical "If you eat this many calories and do this workout, you'll lose this" type of thing.
But did I really need this?
I realized that my path must be more than just following a set of rules or some strict calculation.
It needed to be about loving myself now, in the present moment—not just after reaching a certain weight or achieving a specific look.
If I want to truly accept my body, I need to look in the mirror and love what I see now. Otherwise, there is no real path forward.
Waiting to love myself after reaching a goal? No, to accept who I am today. This shift in thinking has been crucial for me in redefining what my journey looks like.
Healing My Inner Child and Self-Love
Self-love has been one of the hardest things for me to cultivate. Honestly, I’m scared to love myself. I often think back to my childhood and try to imagine myself as that little girl. I picture her face, hold her hands, and say, “I love you.” And then, unexpectedly, I start to cry.
For so long, I couldn’t love her. I tried and tried, and now, finally, it’s getting a bit better. I remember her pure eyes and how she never spoke to anyone. She would watch people from behind a door, never running around or talking like all the other kids did. Just standing on the outside, waiting for a bit of attention that never seemed to come.
As I grew up, I always wanted to escape from my past. I didn’t realize that I wasn’t the problem. How could such a small girl possibly be the problem? I would search for any trait of mine that could have made people dislike me, but I couldn’t find any.
As I grew older, I often looked in the mirror, never truly accepting myself. People told me I was pretty, but I never believed them.
I’ve come to understand that the child I once was—so alone, looking around, hoping for some attention, playing games by herself near the river—wasn’t flawed.
She was a little bit jealous, which, looking back, was understandable. She never got special attention unless she behaved exactly how others wanted.
She loved chocolate and would always wait for it eagerly. But people either forgot or made her ask for it, saying things like, “If you talk, we’ll give it to you,” which left her feeling embarrassed.
As her sisters grew up, they started giving her a lot of chocolate, and that became the first thing she really connected with emotionally.
Even now, I haven’t quite managed to balance my emotions. Chocolate still holds a significant place in my life. In the past, I would forbid myself from having it, but that only made things worse.
Learning to love myself, both the adult me and the child I once was, is still a work in progress. It’s about acknowledging my past, embracing my present, and finding a way to heal without harsh restrictions or self-judgment.
Conclusion
I've been working on these aspects of myself for months now. I no longer force myself to avoid chocolate. As I mentioned, I'm maintaining my weight, and I eat what I want on specific days, so I don’t have to worry about it constantly.
In the past, I would forget everything and just eat, only realizing what I’d done after finishing—not necessarily during binge eating episodes, but more when I stopped caring about my diet altogether.
My therapist and I have come to the conclusion that my eating disorder isn’t as severe as it used to be; now it’s more about emotional eating or anxiety driven by my ADHD.
When I first started learning how to break this cycle, I remember having a panic attack while I was alone at home. I had some anger outbursts, then did some breathing exercises and washed my face to calm down. I even made a note for times like these, to remind myself of my progress. Eventually, I returned to a more balanced state.
About a week later, I finally realized that my coping mechanism was no longer food but actually talking about my feelings.
But what is still missing? Self-love and manageable goals. I needed to make a plan—not for losing weight, but for loving myself more.
Because when I was thin, I had no self-love. When I was thick, no self-love. When I was successful, no self-love. When I was unsuccessful, still no self-love.
So, I need to accept the little girl I once was and hug her. I need to love every version of myself—the thin, the thick, the good, and the bad.
Only then will I feel more hope.
Thanks for reading.
