Recovering Loudly and Largely
Written by Sharon Maxwell
Dehumanizing doesn’t begin to describe what it is like to live in a world where people see my body size before seeing my humanity, where my character is determined before I can even speak a word or show someone the beautiful intricacies that make up who I am. Living in this world AND choosing to not conform to its impossible beauty standards is an act of resistance, and doing so while actively choosing to step into my recovery from anorexia is both an act of rebellion and an act of radical self love. Each day, I choose to unapologetically push into that resistance, thus creating space to truly live my life worth living. As part of my resistance, I use public speaking, consulting work, and my social media platforms to actively speak out about recovering from an eating disorder while living in a fat body, the harms of weight stigma in healthcare and treatment centers, and the harms of diet culture.
When Kate Siber, journalist and author, emailed me to ask if I would be willing to be interviewed for a piece that she was pitching to the New York Times on “Atypical” Anorexia, I was skeptical.
Great. Someone wanted to talk to the fat girl recovering from anorexia. Would I be the next punchline? Would this story accurately look at the horrors this illness brings on folks living in fat bodies in a fat phobic society, or will it cause more harm to a group of people who have been handed nothing but vitriol and violence by society at large?
I agreed to the interview, but I immediately reached out to my brother, who works as a tv reporter, to tell him my concerns and ask his advice. He helped me prepare for what an interview might sound like. He listened and helped as I stumbled to articulate the questions I wanted to ask Kate to better understand her intentions with the piece. He advised me to come up with one paragraph, summing up my journey, that I would be okay if it were to be quoted. He encouraged me to state everything else “on background” or “off the record.” Though my stomach was filled with anxious butterflies the morning of the interview, I felt ready with how I had prepared with my brother.
Shortly after our conversation began, my heart was filled and my hopes soared. Without me needing to ask, Kate shared how this story came to be and what her goals were with researching and writing it. Kate had previously written a piece about anorexia and eating disorders in general, but she received feedback from a therapist who informed her about “atypical” anorexia.
This therapist told Kate about the effort folks were making to remove the low-weight criteria from the DSM, to better serve folks suffering with anorexia while simultaneously living in larger bodies.
Kate heard this and saw an opportunity to give a voice to a marginalized group of folks who were not only battling anorexia, but were somehow doing so while navigating living in a world rampant with anti-fat bias. Kate wanted to give a voice to folks who looked like me and who were struggling with the same illness I was. Throughout the entire process, she was gentle. She was kind. She handled the topic with compassion.
A few days after our first call, Kate reached out again, asking if we could set up a Zoom meeting. She told me she wanted to learn more about my journey. I agreed, wondering how I was going to stick to my one paragraph, leaving everything else “on background” and “off the record.” I’m a storyteller. I have always enjoyed doing so.
Within a few minutes of our next call, I decided to tell my story vulnerably. “On background” and “off the record” became words I said far less often.
After several phone calls, Zoom calls, email exchanges and a weekend trip to visit me in San Diego, Kate told me she had gathered all the information she needed. She told me she would be in touch when necessary, she casually mentioned a photoshoot, and she said fact checkers would call me when it was closer to publishing time.
As time went on, the piece went to the back burner of my brain. I continued pursuing recovery, taking on speaking engagements and advocacy opportunities, and using my little corner of the internet to speak about recovery.
I received an email from a photo editor at the New York Times stating that Ryan Pfluger would be coming to photograph me in my home for the piece. I looked Ryan up on social media, and saw that they had photographed countless celebrities, including Lady Gaga. I became quite overwhelmed and felt out of place. Ryan came to my home and took pictures of me for about an hour. To be honest, I was very uncomfortable in my skin. Throughout my recovery journey, I have worked to step out of an intense hatred towards my body, and land in a more neutral relationship with my body. However, having a camera pointed at me for that long, knowing it would be next to a story outlining my battle with anorexia was quite overwhelming. It wasn’t until my interaction with Ryan that I learned that the piece would not just be in the New York Times newspaper, but it would be featured in the New York Times Magazine.
It was during the process of being photographed, that I also learned my story was the lead in the article. I knew I had spent a lot of time with Kate and shared a lot of my story however, I did not understand just how much of my story would be shared with the masses.
Months later, I finally got word that the piece would be published in the New York Times Magazine on Sunday, October 23. About a week and a half before the article was published, fact checkers reached out to go over the piece. It was at that point I realized just how many details of my story would be told. I did my best to advocate for the removal of specific numbers and details I thought may be triggering to others while still withholding the integrity of the piece and allowing folks to see inside the reality of living with and recovering from anorexia in a fat body. The fact checker also treated my story with great compassion. The entire process with the folks at the New York Times was one that was handled with care.
I got an email from Kate on Friday letting me know the story was likely going to appear online on the Tuesday before it was slated to be printed. The morning the article was published online I frantically scrolled through the piece, far too fast to truly take it in. My shoulders were flush with my ears, and I’m still unsure if I ever stopped to take a breath. My initial reaction was that of self-criticism coupled with fear and worry of how my battle would be perceived. I worried others would read my story and would see an opportunity to engage in disordered behaviors. I immediately messaged people in my close circle, rattling off my concerns and critiques. My loved ones gently pointed out my inner-critic and encouraged me to take a step back.
It took me a couple weeks to go through texts and emails I received. I had friends and family members reach out and share their memories of me in my illness throughout the years, some of which I had forgotten. Some apologized for encouraging and praising my weight loss pursuits.
Overwhelmingly, the message I received was that of support and encouragement for my recovery journey.
I received countless messages on my social media platforms of folks sharing that their story was paralleled to mine. People shared how reading my story made them no longer feel alone in their struggle. They felt seen. They felt deserving of getting help. They saw hope for a different future.
The day the article was available in print in stores, my best friend and I drove around San Diego collecting as many as we could. We sat in a Barnes and Noble bookstore, and I read the story from start to finish. Tears began to flow as I began to be connected to younger versions of me. I felt grief and sadness. I felt gratitude and pride for my determination to fight. I felt the depth of my story, a story I’ve told many times yet been so disconnected from. I’ve shared my story in various fashions more times than I can count, and yet it has always felt like I was telling the story of someone else. A level of healing I still can’t fully describe took place while I read my story that day.
Since the story was published, I have been able to connect with more eating disorder treatment centers and individual clinicians to offer my services as a weight-inclusive consultant.
I have been able to continue to be a voice and agent for change in the eating disorder community. I strongly believe in a future that prioritizes accessible and safe care for folks living in fat bodies while simultaneously battling eating disorders. I am fighting for a world where weight stigma is something we read about in history books as a tale of the past.
As I wake up each day, I choose hope. I choose recovery. I choose resistance to our societal pressures and impossible beauty standards. I choose to fight for my recovery and for the hope of recovery for others who live in marginalized bodies. I choose to radically love myself and hold love and hope for the scores of individuals battling this illness.
Sharon Maxwell (she/her) is a mental health advocate and fat activist. She works as a weight inclusive consultant, providing education on the harms of weight stigma and offering tools to make treatment centers and healthcare settings safe and accessible for fat folks. Sharon has partnered with organizations like NAMI, NEDA, The National Alliance on Eating Disorders, and various podcasts as a public speaker, breaking down the stigma around eating disorders and shedding light on societal anti-fat bias. The story of her battle with Anorexia has been featured in the New York Times Magazine. In her activism and advocacy, she hopes to shine light in the darkest of places, help people walk out of shame, and step into the hope that a life worth living is possible - no matter your size. You can follow her on Instagram or buy her fat-positive merch on Etsy.