Being transgender has had a huge impact on how I see my body and it was one of the main reasons I started restricting what I ate.
Gender dysphoria mixed with body dysmorphia left me feeling overwhelmed and I knew transitioning wasn’t something I would be able to do any time soon, so, I focused on what I could control: food. The more weight I lost the more in control I felt, and as the disorder developed it picked up on “benefits” and used them to convince me to continue restricting losing weight.
These benefits tied into being trans - the thinner I was the more masculine I felt as my curves disappeared, my period stopped which was something that caused a lot of dysphoria and at the time I just couldn’t bring myself to stop, especially if it was easing all the pain. At least I thought it was.
Sometime into the restricting my dad picked up on how bad it was getting. We spoke and I agreed to try and get some help. I was somewhat willing as I didn’t want to cause my dad anymore pain as he had gone though a lot already. The doctors referred me to an eating disorder service for young people. After a while, I finally got an appointment with them, but they turned me away because, in their eyes, I wasn’t sick enough.
Things kept getting worse, and a few years later, my doctor referred me again. By then, I didn’t want help anymore. My life was completely taken over by the eating disorder. Every moment was filled with thoughts about food and restriction. I found comfort in the eating disorder, and at the time, that felt like enough.
When I went back to the eating disorder service again, I was put on an intensive care plan right away. I didn’t get why they were being ‘so dramatic’, in my head, it didn’t seem that bad, and they didn’t care that much last time I saw them. My eating disorder team took me out of college and stopped me from performing. I lost my freedom and blamed the people who were trying to help. Now I realise it was the eating disorder that caused all of this, not them.
When the plan went into place, I kept pushing the help away, even after being taken out of everything, because what else did I have to lose? I kept engaging with the eating disorder in every way I physically could. I wasn’t able to make my own food anymore, but I could “do this” and “do that”, but at that point, it was pointless, I was gaining weight, and it was driving me insane - sorry - driving the eating disorder insane. I eventually realised that I wasn’t the one in control, it was the eating disorder, it latched onto my struggles and gave me a new problem to add to everything I was already struggling to cope with; I had to come to terms with the fact I would never be able to transition unless I recover and find myself again, and ever since then I’ve felt so much happier.
During recovery had to find ways to cope with dysphoria; turns out what helped me the most was finding the right people to have around and finding people who accepted me and my identity. They support me on hard days, especially when the urge to relapse is loud.
Throughout this journey I did lose my dad to cancer - he was my main supporter and this caused a huge amount of stress which eventually lead to a relapse a few months later but having those other friends and family members around got me back on track and I've never been so grateful for having such a great support system.
Now I’m back in college and performing again. I started a Higher Education course in Film and Television and have been given offers to several universities. None of this would have happened if I didn’t chose recovery. I still struggle sometimes, but it’s already much better than when I started. I view it as having a toxic ex who likes to linger around in your mind, you consider reaching out but you look back and remember all the pain they put you through, so you stop yourself.
Looking back, I wish I had been taken seriously when I first wanted to recover, when I noticed things were getting worse, but I wasn’t too far gone to want help. Early intervention could save many lives, but stigma around weight, gender, and age keeps people from getting the help they need. I hope my story helps people see how important it is to keep an open mind when someone says they’re struggling with an eating disorder.
I’m lucky to be alive. There are people who have died at a higher weight than I was when I started treatment; there are people who die at a ‘healthy weight’, and that’s horrifying to think about.
People need to understand that someone’s weight doesn't depict how sick they are; eating disorders are a mental Illness which has physical consequences, and I wish more people could grasp that.
If you resonate with Miles' story, remember you're not alone.
Our Helpline is open Monday-Friday 3-8pm, if you or someone you love needs support for an eating disorder: Helpline page.
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