The Invisible Struggle: A Journey Through Anorexia and Self-Worth

01.08.2025

The Invisible Struggle: A Journey Through Anorexia and Self-Worth

by Ashita Dadlani

What is anorexia? Anorexia is often labeled as an eating disorder, a need to control weight, or a mental battle. In my experience, it’s about validating the belief that “I am not good enough.” Controlling weight becomes a way to feel worthy, with the scale as the measure of self-worth. “If I can just get down to X pounds, I will feel good about myself.” The tragic truth is—it never stops. One more ounce, one more pound, one more kilogram, and the cycle continues.

My struggle began at 22, triggered by someone important to me (let’s call them M) who expressed concern about my weight and appearance. Being at the higher end of a normal BMI, M subtly hinted that I perhaps wasn’t “good enough” for society’s standards. Fear of rejection took hold, and a need to fit in set in motion a dangerous thought: losing weight could fix everything. It felt like something I could control.

With that thought, I eagerly hit the gym, thinking it would be a simple path to validation. When I saw my first pound lost, it felt like a victory. That moment sparked a hunger for more. I extended my workouts, eventually exercising for two hours daily. My trainer praised my dedication, which only fueled my drive.When the weight plateaued, I turned to diet control. It seemed like the perfect solution—backed by the simple math of calories in versus calories out. The scale began to move again. M was proud, my trainer was impressed, and I felt validated.

But deep down, something was still wrong. Anxiety, stress and fear of rejection and abandonment still persisted, so I kept focusing on weight loss as my coping mechanism. It was the only thing I felt in control of, the only source of validation.

Years passed, and during a routine check-up, my doctor was alarmed—my BMI had dropped to 13, dangerously low. There was a risk of organ failure, and she recommended inpatient treatment. The thought of going to a facility terrified me—not because of the health risks, but because I feared losing control. All my hard work would be undone. Without control, I believed I would lose my sense of worth.

Oddly enough, people’s concern for my health made me feel like I mattered. I craved attention and care, and this dysfunctional cycle fed that need.

Then came the baby season. When many of my friends started having babies, I realized I couldn’t conceive because my body was too unhealthy. If I wanted a family, I had to regain weight. This became my motivation. The process of gaining weight was agonizing. Letting go of control felt impossible. Our brains are wired for familiarity, and even though I knew better, I clung to the familiar patterns of restriction. Eating felt terrifying, like losing a battle. People around me couldn’t understand why something as simple as eating was so hard. That’s the invisible burden of mental health—unless you’ve lived it, it’s hard to comprehend.

I joined support communities and read everything I could about anorexia. Slowly, I made the decision to gain weight by eating healthy. It was a step-by-step process, and through sheer willpower, I gradually returned to a healthy weight.

Was it all about weight? NO! It was about control, something I didn’t fully understand until years later when someone dear to me encouraged me to try therapy. Therapy opened my eyes to the deeper issues behind my anorexia, showing me that my struggle wasn’t isolated—it was tied to a much larger narrative of my self-worth.

Looking back, it was all rooted in the belief that “I’m not good enough.” My inner child craved acceptance and love, reacting out of fear and seeking validation. To anyone struggling, I feel your pain—the battle between conflicting thoughts: “This isn’t healthy, but it’s all I can control.” As I learned, “Intentions are different from reality”—you intend to seek acceptance, but in reality, you’re only hurting yourself. You are beautiful and worthy, with or without anyone’s approval. Take baby steps—add just 10 extra calories every other day. Progress is progress, no matter how slow. You don’t need anyone’s validation but your own. That being said, it’s a long road to self-acceptance for me as well, and I hope to get there someday!

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