Introduction

I’ve spent a really long time finding someone to relate to who shares a similar set of issues. I’m a 31-year-old male recovering from over a decade of disordered eating; I love fitness and am obsessed with food. I know for a fact that my set of problems is not unique. But I haven’t yet found any functional space for those in my position to connect or heal. I don’t know how many men have eating disorders. But I know that there is societal pressure for men to uphold an image of strength. I assume this prohibits many of those suffering from speaking out. And why wouldn’t it? It’s weird enough to know what you can and can’t express as a male. Depending on who you surround yourself with, the display of vulnerable emotion around some is considered a weakness. Suppose a male is surrounded by pressure to remain stoic and stifle self-expression. Why would he feel inclined to seek help for something stigmatized as a women’s issue? What is the incentive to come forward or speak out?
The issue seems ever more complicated as the research on male eating disorders is nearly nonexistent. After tireless searching, I’ve uncovered some superficial figures from organizations that estimate 1 in 3 men have disordered eating patterns. But the follow-up on those data has amounted to little more than small sample studies or survey results. With the data lacking and societal pressure remaining, suffers are left to spiral and entrench themselves deeper in affliction. If a person feels like they are alone, they will not seek help for that problem.
With all of that said, I suppose the only thing I am trying to do is let people in this position know that they aren’t alone. It’s better to be honest and heal than continue to suffer and not face the problem. I want men and women to have a space where they feel like they can relate to someone whenever they feel alone. I wish to express my challenges and my triumphs. I don’t want to make this speech about societal issues, so I will focus on my struggles because that’s the only perspective I know.
I grew up fat. It was challenging. It’s entirely socially acceptable to berate the fat kid. I was insulted by children and adults alike regularly. In my most vulnerable and formative years, I was subject to physical and mental abuse. And because of that, my growth and understanding of myself have been stinted. I don’t want to spill all of this in one entry. But in general, my childhood sucked. My childhood was privileged, and I had a great support system. I didn’t want for anything materially. But I lived my life in fear and discomfort until a few years ago. I felt isolated and hopeless. I’m 31 and feel like I barely grasp who I am. As I continue to write, I hope to gain more confidence. I want to let people know that they can enjoy food unapologetically. I want to let men know that they can ask for help if they feel like they are struggling with an eating disorder. And I want to remind myself that being fit, loving rich food, and dedicating my life to food as a passion aren’t mutually exclusive.