In middle school, I experienced puberty earlier than my peers. My body transformed almost overnight, and I often heard comments from relatives like, “Is that really you, Lisa?” as they poked at my upper arms or thighs.
I was perpetually hungry. While it seemed like everyone else was maintaining the same size and eating little, my appetite was relentless, both in my mind and my stomach. However, I was genuinely happy.
During my sophomore year, I decided to start exercising. I became fitter and stronger, yet my teenage mind still craved more.
So, I began counting calories and cutting back on carbs. Initially, things went well—I made better food choices without completely eliminating any food groups. But then, I started weighing myself, and that’s when the problems began. I allowed the number on the scale to dictate my self-worth. Instead of celebrating how I felt, I fixated on achieving a particular size, constantly criticizing my weight. My journey toward a healthier lifestyle quickly devolved into a series of compulsive behaviors.
I became fixated on calorie counting, and within a month, I knew the calorie counts of all my favorite foods. I felt I had to make only the “right” (which I defined as ultra-healthy) choices every moment of the day, never miss a workout, never indulge, and never eat until I felt satisfied.
I labeled my habits as “healthy,” but being overly strict to the point of obsession is far from healthy. It’s detrimental to both body and mind. I despised counting calories, yet I found it impossible to stop. I would sit through classes, repetitively calculating my daily calorie intake.
Then came the self-hatred. I constantly told myself I was “weak” and punished myself whenever I ate for enjoyment. I was not healthy. I lost my menstrual cycle, my hair began to thin, and I often dozed off in classes.
I clearly had an eating disorder. My obsession with being “healthy” led me to the worst state I’d ever been in. I prioritized calorie counting and food restrictions over my well-being, and I was utterly miserable.
This obsession consumed my mind, leading to social anxiety and a racing thought pattern. My eating disorder overshadowed a significant part of my high school experience.
Eventually, I began to heal from this disordered eating while in college. It was a long and challenging process. Yes, I gained weight, but I also rediscovered my health and strength, vowing never to return to those old habits.
And I haven’t looked back. Counting calories or adhering to restrictive diets triggers my anxiety. It’s simply not healthy. Following fad diets, tracking carbs, or cutting out foods deemed “bad” leads me to a dark place of obsession, and I refuse to go there again.
Nowadays, I exercise for how it makes me feel—not for how I look or what the scale says. I enjoy a balanced diet that includes a variety of foods in moderation, even indulging in fast food occasionally.
My weight fluctuates like many people’s, but my mood is more stable. I’m living life, savoring food and friendships. I’ve reclaimed my happiness, and my mind is no longer a calculator busy tallying up my caloric intake.
I no longer shy away from social events for fear there won’t be diet-friendly options available. I’m living a healthier life, free from the shackles of rigid food rules that once left me feeling trapped and unfulfilled.
I refuse to revert to the teenage version of myself who avoided pizza and brownies for nearly four years. She was so restricted that she was never comfortable and always hungry.
When I let go of calorie-counting, I embraced a happier version of myself. Believe me, your happiness far outweighs any number on the scale.
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In summary, focusing on mental and emotional well-being is crucial, and I’ve learned that a balanced approach to eating and exercise leads to true happiness.