In my teens, I was slightly overweight, so my mother offered to send me to a well-known weight loss centre in an attempt to lose approximately 5-10kg.
I was placed on a strict diet, and had to visit the centre regularly to use their exercise equipment.
I was losing weight steadily, until one week my weight had increased. That particular week I strayed from the diet plan, eating three cubes of chocolate.
Ten years on, I can still remember the humiliation I felt when the consultant told me it was because I ate chocolate that my weight had increased, and how terrible she made me feel for “breaking the rules”, just by eating a measly few pieces of chocolate.
I was unsure how I was supposed to maintain a diet of salad sandwiches and powdered drinks, yet I knew I did not want to feel the humiliation of putting on more weight either. So I became bulimic.
I quit my program with the centre, and lost a lot of money in the process as they did not provide refunds. I also lost a lot of weight, as I suffered silently with bulimia for the following five years.
It seemed like an easy solution, until the effects of the bingeing and purging took its toll on my health and I felt too exhausted both physically and emotionally to function.
I still sometimes struggle today to not place my fingers down my throat, particularly when presented with images of skeletal celebrities like Nicole Ritchie, who continually make the best-dressed lists. But every time I feel the urge, I remember how sick it made me, and so I stop myself.
I feel like I now have a much healthier attitude to food and to my body. I’ve found that I can be within the normal weight range, while not depriving myself.
Women spend so much time and money on achieving a number on the scales. Whatever happened to just being healthy?
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