I’ve struggled with bulimia for at least seven years now. Before it evolved into acute anorexia and severe weight loss, however, no-one knew of my eating disorder — not my boyfriend, not my parents, not even my older sister who I lived with while we were at uni.
My older sister became engaged during her graduating year. She and her then-fiancé made me bridesmaid and set the wedding date to just after her final exam! Needless to say, stress levels were sky-high and tears always at the ready. There was the usual wedding planning rollercoaster ride, but the end result was wonderful — a bright, bubbly, beautiful day.
My sister and I lived together up until her wedding day, so all her belongings were kept in the house while she was on her honeymoon. Miscellaneous goods from the wedding were tossed into the storage room, flowers were strewn through the house, and the bottom tier of the wedding cake — the one that was being saved for anniversaries to come — was put away in a cupboard.
I have a thing for almond icing. I think probably many people do, it is so tasty! But my bulimia means I can’t control my cravings. When it comes to binging, I abandon all sensibility and morality.
I ate the whole bottom cake (and promptly regurgitated it — sin above sin). I didn’t eat it in one sitting, though, because I thought it would be a lesser crime if I ate the cake over a series of days rather than in one hit.
The cake was actually forgotten about for a while. After her honeymoon, my sister gradually moved her belongings out of our house and into her new marital home. And, in the meantime, a boarder moved in to take my sister’s room. The boarder was a nice girl, a little older than I, but very loud and robust. She also had a rather unfortunate figure.
So when the whereabouts of the cake was finally questioned, I told my family that the boarder had been entertaining one night and, spurred by wine and companionship, found the cake and shared it with her friends. My family believed me and took a dim view of the boarder.
To this day, the secret is mine, and it makes me as guilty now as it did then.
Picture: Getty Images
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