My Story is not a Unique One
I grew up a perfectionist, the oldest child in a middle class family. When report cards came out, I was upset for days if I got an A-. I wanted to do well at everything I did, and put in the extra work to make sure that happened.
By the Holy Spirit’s empowering presence, I found great strength in my faith. But I always felt like I wasn’t trying hard enough to submit myself to the perfect Christian woman model I thought I should fit. I wanted so badly to be what God created me to be, but I felt too strong, too outspoken, too overwhelming.
Unfortunately, my answer to this supposed discrepancy between my faith and my gender was to work even harder to “fit the mold.” This was not just spiritual; it shifted into the physical. I became addicted to exercise and cut out every “excessive” morsel in my diet. I thought if I could make my body submit, perhaps my “rebellious” spirit would as well. Finally, I would be the woman God wanted me to be.
But I was just becoming the woman popular culture wanted me to be: clothes hanging loosely, bones protruding, face pale and gaunt. I looked like a child, not a woman. For nearly five years, I battled with myself, sometimes realizing this wasn’t the way I was meant to be, and sometimes succumbing to the driving pulse of what I thought God demanded of me.
After a two-week stay in the hospital, I woke up. I wanted to heal. And faith, for me, was the one place I began to find rest. Through intensive study of scripture and prayer, I realized God did not demand compliance with this false definition of “woman”; God simply invited me to use my gifts as they were given. It was encountering this God of radical grace that overthrew the false god I had set up, a god that demanded conformity to a certain way of being. God’s grace carried me through many of my own faults and into a new way of being.
It takes time to reconnect body and spirit. The body has been starved for so long that once the person begins eating regularly, the metabolism kicks into high gear, eager to use this new substance called food. But while my body was still relearning to work normally, I was in counseling, learning about this person God had created me to be. This was a time of healing, and I believe less people relapse because of this process-oriented approach.
Fast-forward three years. The symptoms of the eating disorder (ED) are long gone and I haven’t seen a counselor for nearly 18 months. Anorexia is not a persistent thought anymore; I’m too busy exercising the gifts God has given me! Imagine my surprise, then, when I open a letter from the health insurance company: “Due to your history of anorexia in the last five years, we are not able to approve you for service . . .” WHAT?!?
Certainly, relapse occurs in a small percentage of people with eating disorders. But I was being punished for seeking out help. If I had never been treated, never seen a counselor, I would have health insurance today. Eating disorders aren’t treated as many other mental illnesses–which have only a two year waiting period before suffers can seek insurance independently–even though illnesses like depression and anxiety often manifest themselves in the physical body. And the treatment for ED’s are not often more expensive: counseling, some nutritional work, check-ups, an occasional prescription. I am left to wonder if this injustice is partially due to the gender of most of those who suffer. While men do make up 10% of ED cases, it is women who represent 9 out of 10 patients.
I am not alone. Since being denied insurance, I have found others who faced similar injustices. Thankfully, advocates are forming groups to address these issues. The Anna Westin Foundation , created by parents of a young woman who died after her insurance company said her treatments were “not necessary,” has devoted an entire section of its website to information about insurance coverage. Along with the Eating Disorders Coalition of Wasington, D.C. , the Foundation lobbies for greater federal acknowledgement of and action toward just eating disorder treatment legislation. Christian organizations like Breaking Up With Ed and Remuda Ranch offer Christ-centered approaches to healing from eating disorders. There is great promise that situations are improving, but many more people who suffer from eating disorders—and the after effects of their recovery—remain unable to access the basic services they need.
The injustice I have experienced in the health system is a Christian issue. It involves body image, healing, and how we as a community respond to those who are suffering. Whether we write letters to our lawmakers, invite speakers to our youth groups, or offer a listening ear to a struggling friend, I pray that, as people who follow Jesus, we can be part of this ministry of healing and reconciliation (2 Cor 5:16-20).
