• Gathering around a meal has always been a staple of my family’s holiday celebrations.
• In my 20s, an eating disorder prevented me from being with family and friends.
• Now my family gatherings – and the food served there – are enjoyable again.

Food is an essential part of holiday traditions for most families, especially mine. “Some people eat to live, but we live to eat,” my grandfather always said. Every year, I looked forward to the huge spread of Thanksgiving and the countless decadent desserts displayed at Christmas. It was wonderful – until I developed an eating disorder at 21.

How it started

I spent my last semester of college interning in Los Angeles – about two months, after a devastating experience and blind break with my boyfriend, my mother began to lose our house on the East Coast. I felt like I had lost control of the steering wheel. The only thing in my life I could control? What I ate.

It started with a food diary. I carried it everywhere, writing down everything I put in my mouth. Even a few grapes or a small handful of granola had to be tracked and recorded. Then I started following several nutrition blogs and reading those problematic “what I eat in a day” articles. Now I know these bloggers’ meals weren’t giving me enough calories, but at the time it was something I relied on.

The false sense of control I’d gained from tracking calories and counting almonds was intoxicating – and my habits gradually took a spiral. Soon I had to measure every tablespoon of peanut butter I spread on a sandwich or the oil I drizzled on a salad. It became impossible to eat out with friends because I knew I would stay up later that night, riddled with anxiety over not knowing exactly what I had consumed.

It’s funny. At the time, I felt so in control when in reality the disorder had started to control me. He had the final say on where, what, and how much I could eat, as well as how much joy I could derive from eating with my loved ones.

Needless to say, when the holidays began that year, the focus on food was no longer a benefit. Instead, it was agonizing. In the days leading up to Thanksgiving, I spent hours thinking about how I could fool my family into thinking I had a feast with them while hiding food in a napkin. And then, after Christmas, I spent countless sleepless nights shaming myself for my choices and regretting that I hadn’t allowed myself to indulge in my choices. favorite treats.

A turning point

This December marks 13 years since I hit rock bottom. And from that perspective, it’s hard to believe that my eating disorder almost ruined all of my favorite vacations. Even though my mother and other family members had urged me to get help, only I could make this decision for myself and implement it. the work it takes to recover. When I realized that my eating disorder was harming my social life, my love life, and my ability to travel while preventing me from achieving my career goals and sapping all the joy from celebratory occasions funny, I decided to seek professional help.

It took extensive therapy to get to this point – to unpack the fears and feelings at the root of my disordered thoughts and habits – but I ultimately achieved what I consider to be full recovery from my disorder. diet at 23. I feel so lucky to have worked with Dr. Jennifer Thomas, a psychologist who has since become co-director of the Eating Disorders Clinical and Research Program at Massachusetts General Hospital. During our weekly sessions, she offered me challenges to try at home that often seemed uncomfortable: eating at times different from my usual schedule, reintroducing “fear foods” one by one into my routine, and offered me invaluable support as I fell into despair. for the control that was at the root of my eating disorder.

Now I choose to be healthy every day

Since then, I have given several speeches to my local chapter of the National Eating Disorders Association to offer hope to people in their own recovery journeys. During these speeches, I made it a point to give people a realistic idea of ​​what life after recovery is like. In setting these expectations, I told them, “It’s not like your disorder will go away. It’s so much easier to squash that toxic inner dialogue. »

Mindfulness has played a key role in my recovery — and in how I handle holidays and other food-focused occasions. For so many years I ignored what my body was trying to tell me. It got to the point where I didn’t even notice any hunger cues or cravings. Practicing mindfulness has helped me get back in tune with these cues so that when disordered thoughts arise, I can check in internally and make decisions based on what my body needs. real needs.

When I survey the family Thanksgiving feast, my mind is sometimes quick to whisper, “You should load up on carrots instead of mashed potatoes” or “Have you ever had cranberry sauce loaded with sugar, you should skip the pie.” The difference now is that it has become easier to ignore that voice, like an old enemy whose advice and opinions I no longer value. And every time I choose not to pay any attention to it, it gets a little quieter. Nowadays, I often arrive at the end of a party realizing that I didn’t hear the unhelpful comments about my eating disorder at all.

Research shows that only about 21% of people fully recover from an eating disorder. I’m very grateful to be part of this minority because, with the holidays fast approaching again this year, I’m not worried about how to “get by” while depriving myself of all the foods that give me joy and pleasure. I’m much more focused on being grateful for having access to these foods – something that so many Americans lack.

My memories of this vacation at the height of my disorder seem so blurry, like a photograph faded beyond all perceptibility. This year, rather than getting distracted by my own anxious thoughts, I’m focusing on being present with my family and friends. I want to remember every conversation – and every bite.