The space between judgment and performance
My journey with binge eating disorder and body dysmorphia
I heard someone say to paint/draw what you fear most, and maybe it can help you cope with or face it. I took to the paper and began to draw what I thought terrified me, and what was perhaps one of the root causes of why I was binge eating: my fear of gaining weight. Not only gaining weight, but continuing to get heavier and heavier, without being able to control it. The thought of doing everything in my power to stay a certain weight and failing nevertheless was beyond stressful to me.
Anyway. I drew a mirror with sticky notes bordering the frame, showing that the motivational words and rules we all try at some point become useless, pointless, and even unmotivational. I drew a body, one I feared growing into someday. The reference picture I chose was unattractive in my eyes. I felt shame for choosing a random picture on the internet and judging it with my fear of becoming similar to it.
But then, almost as soon as I started filling the shapes with color, a tiny thought in my head surfaced. This body is actually… beautiful. I shaded and blended and stared. And I was a bit awestruck at the finished product. I choked up because, wow, how did I not see it before? It’s just. Lovely. That’s it. I can’t explain it any other way.
I didn’t filter it with my beauty standards or society’s, but saw it with a new value which I had no idea I possessed.
Of course, I’ve been on the “every body is beautiful” train ever since I discovered it was a thing, but to really let that fact sink into my perfection-driven brain… to apply that to MY body. To bodies that their owners are ashamed of; that’s a whole other thing.
This is probably a fact which a lot of people have been accustomed to since forever, but it got me excited and brought me to some interesting realizations, so… yeah, that’s my first painting's story.
My therapist, after seeing this painting, told me the story is not finished here. This person needs another painting of how she has progressed in her image. I have found her beautiful. But what does she think and do about that now? Does she see that as well?
I thought, "Okay, so now she will move to a place of acceptance." That includes changing the wallpaper, the mirror, the clothes, all of it. How does the beauty shift? From the tight and rigid pattern of the wallpaper, the bright, contrasting, uncomfortable colors of purple and yellow, so harsh as if having judgmental eyes of its own. The walls need to be kinder and surround her with a color that represents growth and complements her instead of fighting her. The useless sticky notes should be taken down and replaced, giving a glimpse of how others view her, instead of herself.
I took all of these thoughts and made my next painting, widening the mirror (now golden as if offering her honor and dignity) by a few inches to show that her perspective has broadened just a bit.
I was satisfied with that and called it good. I thought I had completed the work needed for acceptance, and I thought that was the end of the story there. She liked what she saw in the mirror now. Wasn't that enough? She's the same person in both paintings. Her body didn't change much (although I improved with my overall skill in gouache, we'll ignore the drastic difference in skin colors ha... haha...)
Now. Fast-forward six months. I was not healed. I was, in fact, sinking deeper and deeper into weight obsession, a calorie deficit, and a punishment-reward system around exercising. Staring at the mirror for long periods. Poking and prodding my softest areas to check if I was really losing weight or not. Checking the scale every day. I was truly happy with my success. I felt lovable. I felt confident. I loved the way my jeans fit.
I stayed in that restrictive mindset for as long as my body would allow before falling right back into my old binging patterns. Embarassingly, my crazy-strict "diet" only lasted two months. I wasn't even close to the skin and bones you see with hardcore calorie-deficient people.
Thankfully, I knew how to return to normalcy with the coping tools I had developed.
In that harsh transitional period, all I could hear was the food noise. I was fighting against feeling manic around food. This was the hardest part of recovering. It took at least a month to feel like I was functioning regularly instead of surviving, a point where I wasn't so ravenous and inhaling any food in front of me. Not eating to the point of discomfort every other hour.
Now, the tools I didn't have were how to handle regaining that weight I had lost. Normalcy and stability felt like failure. And failure terrified me, making me feel worthless. I couldn't see how flawed that thought process really was.
I was nearing a point where all I wanted was to feel neutral about myself. That's all I wanted; to exist without judgement. Without performance. Not staring at the mirror with sticky note goals that only taunted. Not posing in front of the mirror, hoping the pretty dress will hide enough of me.
But to just exist.
I realized my second painting was only a performance to check if the viewer approved. There wasn't really any self-acceptance there. That was a hard truth.
So my third painting is a picture of me.
Although I don't physically look like the first two paintings, my mind had already decided that I do. Painting from a true picture of me forced me to rewire the way I see myself. Because, undeniably, this piece is lovely. It is as accurate as my capabilities will allow, without any of my bullcrap mental distortion.
The image is landscape, showing how my perspective has broadened. The subject is much closer and more intimate, revealing blemishes and the skin's inconsistencies. There is no mirror because, at that moment, she is merely existing. It is a neutral space between judgment and performance. It's a celebration of the body and how quietly breathtaking it can be in all its differences and flaws.
Am I magically healed now? Unsurprisingly, no. But I have come to see that being perceived positively is not a solid form of worthiness. Appearance does not equal worth. Let me repeat that.
Appearance does not equal worth.
Each morning, the battle begins anew. But we learn things every day, every season, every year, whether we know it or not.
I know this is long, thank you for reading. I would love to hear your thoughts on the paintings or your personal story if you'd be willing to share :)
Please know, you're not alone if you're struggling with an eating disorder or body dysmorphia. Getting help is SO worth it. Even if you feel it's not serious enough yet. Trust me, if you're even considering the possibility, then it probably is. Don't let it get worse. Please take the first step and talk about it, because, believe it or not, you do deserve help and to be seen in this struggle <3
Much love, Cat
if you'd like help, at least sharing your concerns about your eating behaviors, here's a thingy that may be helpful for you or someone you know. just leaving it here for you :)
https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/sharing-concerns-about-your-eating-behaviors/
