Arwa Mahdawi was just 14 when her messy relationship with both her body and food began. She was locked in a suffocating vortex of adolescent insecurities, and losing weight seemed to be the only way out.
Writing for The Guardian about her battle, Mahdawi said it did not take long for her control over food, health and wellness to border on obsessive.
“I turned into one of those irritating caricatures in magazines; running five miles at 5am then subsisting on handfuls of almonds and smugness for the rest of the day,” she wrote.
By Mahdawi’s own admission, she lost more and more weight “until [she] looked disgusting.” But all was okay, because “the popular girls at school suddenly started to pay attention to me”.
And then one day it wasn’t okay any more. Standing in the shower, a clump of hair fell out and with that came the stark reality of her situation.
“Holding a fistful of my hair, something inside me clicked. I realised what I’d done to myself and, for the first time since becoming sick, I actually wanted to get better,” she said.
Mahdawi’s story isn’t uncommon, nor is the idea that it often takes rock bottom for someone with an eating disorder to actively seek help.
Just this year, Mamamia’s Mia Freedman interviewed Australian singer Kasey Chambers about her own battle with an eating disorder some 30 years into her life.