A Lesson in Eating Compassionately

In the beginning of 2020, a few short months before the world started to fall apart as we know it, I started an intensive outpatient program for my eating disorder. There were seemingly millions of reasons I ended up reaching out for help when I did, but most of my reasons boiled down to the fact that I simply wanted to have a life worth living.
Going into it, I knew that being vegan was treated with suspicion when it comes to the treatment of eating disorders, but I planned to stand my ground. Unsurprisingly, the first thing my dietician asked me upon learning that I was vegan was “Is it eating disorder related?”
To be completely honest, several years ago, my choice to become a vegetarian was entirely influenced by my eating disorder. Cutting out meat meant I’d be eating lower calorie foods and would only be able to eat the sides during family dinners while having an ethical excuse to back up my behaviors should anyone ask me about it. Veganism was a different story to me.
After extensive research on the ethical side of veganism, learning about the horrors of animal agriculture, and the impact of animal agriculture on the environment, I knew that this was a way of life I wanted to live.
The correct answer for her question seemed to be no, so that’s what I said. I’m sure she had been told this before only to dig deeper and find out that in many cases, the answer was actually yes. Naturally, she was not convinced. She recommended that I try to incorporate vegetarian foods into my diet, which I refused. With some reluctance, my dietician chose to work with me and to help me find a way to get the nutrients I need from a vegan diet.
I thought this was working for me. Finding meaning in the way that I was eating helped me to feel less guilty about the process. It became easier to accept the potential weight gain when I felt like I was doing it by minimizing harm in the world.
Somewhere along the way, something that was said during the course of my treatment really stuck out to me:
“You’re such a compassionate person. It shows in the ways that you speak to others and the way that you live your life. What would happen if you started showing some of that compassion to yourself?”
In some ways, I thought I had been. I didn’t smoke, I didn’t put myself in risky situations, I ate nutritious food. I was vegan after all. Yet, I wasn’t treating myself with compassion. Not really. I forced my body and brain to function on empty whenever I could and I neglected to face the core issues and the trauma surrounding my eating disorder.
Finding a meaning to my food choices didn’t really address any of this.
I was eating compassionately for the environment and animals, but I wasn’t eating compassionately for myself.
More than that, I wasn’t living compassionately for myself. I lived in a world of distractions by design. I used my erratic eating patterns to numb myself and I used social media to pass the time and I actively avoided conversations and media that would remind me of some of the deeper issues that I wasn’t ready to face.
For a while, I wasn’t even following my meal plan properly because I found it too difficult to change the habits that had been so deeply ingrained in me over the years that I’d battled with disordered eating. But whether I was ready or not, something had to change.
After years of following self-imposed rules, it was nearly impossible to trust my body, so I reluctantly started eating six times a day as was recommended to me by my dietician. Three meals, three snacks a day. It was hard at first, but it wasn’t the hardest part.
The hardest part was letting go of the secrecy and silence that surrounded my eating disorder. I had to be honest. I had to be honest about the trauma that I’d experienced and I had to admit to myself that I was not as compassionate or mindful as I had convinced myself I was.
I started talking about my trauma, and I started to talk about the neglect from my parents, and I talked about the religious cult I grew up in and had just escaped from the year prior.
Talking about the things that had kept me suffering in silence for so long was painful. I cried a lot. But I could see myself start to heal as I trusted the process. I went from writing notes to my therapist about things I couldn’t bear to hear myself say aloud to full on describing the events that took place. I did it through tears and took breaks when I needed them, but I did it.
It felt like hell at the time, but it was the most important thing I could have ever done for myself. I showed myself compassion by talking about the things that kept me so wrapped up in my eating disorder for years. I showed myself compassion by coming home from treatment and not wanting to eat but doing it anyway.
And that in itself was more compassionate than any eating lifestyle could ever be.
What I learned most from my time in the intensive outpatient program was that I needed to put myself and my own needs first, and that my journey will look different from that of others. Comparison is futile.
I wish I could say that there was a linear path to recovery, but the truth is, the battle is still ongoing. I’m learning as I go and dare I say, I’m getting better every day.
Personally, I do still follow a vegan lifestyle, but with the mindset that if it ever becomes necessary for my physical or mental health to incorporate animal products into my life again, I will do so. This is how I eat compassionately for the world and for myself.
Yet I have friends I met in treatment that tried being vegan to fuel their eating disorders and as a consequence, would never feel comfortable trying a vegan diet again. I fully respect and support their choices. A vegan diet will never be compassionate when it comes from a place of restriction and rules.
By putting yourself first and treating yourself with the compassion you need, no matter which foods you choose in order to fuel your body and your mind, you’ll be more equipped to change the world however you see fit.






