One day during the 2020 lockdown, my housemate passed my bedroom while I was standing by my mirror. She called out: “Your stomach looks so small!” and intended it as a compliment. My stomach was undoubtedly small. But it wasn’t genetic or because of a new workout I was trying. It was because I had hardly eaten in five days. Nor had I showered or left my bed. Far from being on a health kick, I was in the grips of depression.
As she headed off, I flopped back on my bed and found comfort in her words. There was one good thing I could take from the day – my stomach looked flat. Too bad everything else was swallowing me into a dark cave of endless dread. My long-distance relationship had recently come to an end when my partner cheated on me and subsequently lied about it. This led to panic attacks, depression and returning to the disordered eating habits that I had as a teenager.
So, when Lily Allen spoke honestly about her struggles with eating on her podcast, Miss Me? this week with her co-host and best friend Miquita Oliver, I completely understood. “I’m really not in a great place mentally at the moment, and I’m not eating”, she told Oliver. “I am hungry, but my body and my mind are so disconnected from each other that the messages of hunger are not going from my body to my brain. I’m not avoiding food, I’m just not thinking about it because I’m so in my head that my body is a few steps behind me”.
Lily previously discussed her struggles with her body and fame in a Cosmopolitan interview back in 2018, and it struck a chord with me then, too. Then, it was the pressure to look good for album promotion and on the red carpet that led to her restricting her eating. There is a Venn diagram of patriarchy and mental health that links up to create one element of women’s suffering, and it’s something many will experience during their lives, especially as young women. So when someone comments on the size of someone’s body, they are feeding into this evil diagram.
Saying someone “looks good” because you perceive them as thin is determining their worth based on the size of their body. In her 2011 Channel 4 documentary, she opens up about her bulimia and how this perception affected her.
From my mid-teens to the end of my twenties, I felt validated whenever someone remarked positively on my body. Meanwhile, I would celebrate not eating dinner or getting so drunk I was sick. My mental health was untreated and I self-medicated with alcohol.
I remember something one man said when I was 19: “Your body is banging, too bad about the face.” At that point, I decided I had to put all my energy into keeping my body small so that I could find some value in myself.
That might sound shocking to read, but I assure you: it’s a train of thought which has been embedded into all young women as they go through puberty. Our bodies and curves – but never too curvy – so we can maintain a standard of beauty that pleases men.
The effect of this on young minds has been staggering. According to the eating disorder charity Beat, at least 1.25 million people in the UK have an eating disorder. The NHS released data in 2023 showing that the prevalence of any eating disorder in 17 to 19-year-olds rose from 0.8 per cent in 2017 to 12.5 per cent in 2023.
I know that if my body hadn’t been commented on or celebrated when it was small and unhealthy, there would have been a significantly lower chance of my continuing those toxic behaviours for so long into my adult life. It wasn’t until I hit my late thirties that I finally started a recovery journey. It started with therapy, building a healthy relationship with myself and my reflection – and with my now partner, who celebrates food while acknowledging its ability to trigger me.
I began to cook more. Recipes from my grandma and mum filled my kitchen, as I spent my weekends making aloo parathas and chilli paneer. I connected the powerful history of Indian food with my present self and grew to understand its importance so that it mattered more than the shape of my body or a man’s unasked-for appraisal. I realised that my body was that of every woman in my family. My breasts and curves were theirs. So, instead of refusing to eat, I cooked. Finally, my body began to feel comfortable in my frame, my belly protruding happily and my energy levels skyrocketing.
I still have moments where I struggle with body image. Whenever a weight loss drug is discussed and then promoted all over my social media, I feel a knot in my stomach. Healing isn’t perfect, but I’m in a better place. I hope Lily Allen and every other person struggling can get there, too.
For free and confidential help and advice with disordered eating, call Beat on 0808 801 0677. NCFED offers information, resources and counselling for those suffering from eating disorders, as well as their support networks. Visit eating-disorders.org.uk or call 0845 838 2040. In the US, you can call or text the National Eating Disorders Association (NEDA) at (800) 931-2237, or chat online.
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