My 8 Year Old’s Eating Disorder Makes Me Mad

My elementary-age child has anorexia and I’m angry! She was diagnosed at age 7, and likely suffered for a year or two before I connected the dots. I have been treating her eating disorder for well over a year. She is now at a safe weight, and I supervise her meals. But I’m fuming mad. Every day I’m unrelentingly irate.

I do things right, damn it! I am thoughtful and careful about how I raise her. I consider her physical, emotional and social well-being. I make choices to give her the best environment to learn, grow and thrive in. And I’m angry that I didn’t prevent this illness. My efforts didn’t insulate her and that unfairness enrages me.

I admonished my well-meaning husband who squeezed her 18 month old legs and joked, “Boom! Thunder thighs!” I told him in no uncertain (and probably too intense) terms that he needs to never talk about her body, jokingly or critically. I worried by the time she could understand his words, the damage would already be done to her self-esteem or that he’d be in such a routine with that kind of talk that maybe he couldn’t stop. I was not going to raise a daughter whose dad causally tore down her body image, even unintentionally. My daughter would be raised to love and appreciate her amazing and ingenious body.

When I read her books, even as an infant, I changed every “fat” or “big” used to describe a character to “tall” or “strong” and every “skinny” or “thin” to “small” or “mighty” to that fit the story. More often than not, I simply omitted any language that described weight. I was doing the right thing to create an environment where weight isn’t a part of a person’s worth, and where evaluations of others’ bodies was not normal, everyday conversation.

I fed her the right things, too! I gave her all types of fruits, vegetables, carbohydrates and proteins. Every meal was carefully planned to include all categories of food, and a variety of textures and colors. I even considered which plate color would be the most appetizing with the chosen meal. Overboard, right? I seriously wanted her to always have an appreciation for the joyous tastes, colors and textures of food.

I didn’t deprive her of snacks and desserts, either! She had her share of candy, chips, doughnuts, cookies and every other sugary, salty and/or fatty tasty treat. I didn’t demonize any category of food. And I selflessly modeled how to enjoy chocolate, Skittles and ice cream. Just as I did with broccoli, quinoa and black beans.

And now? I have an 8 year old daughter who doesn’t want to eat. Full stop. Ever. Does not want to consume food, any food, regardless of its taste, color, texture, aroma or nourishment. She has atypical anorexia, which means she attempts to avoid eating but does not desire thinness. She doesn’t view her body negatively, at least not right now, and I’m grateful for that. But I failed to foster her happy relationship with food.

I’m so angry! Red-hot, seething with rage! I did the right things, damn it, to ensure, to guarantee that my daughter would grow up in a loving home, loving her body, and loving delicious food. What the hell happened?! Yes, yes, I know that genetics happened, and parenting didn’t cause her eating disorder. Nothing I did caused this, but that relieves zero point zero percent of my anger. I’m livid, and fighting like mad to change her relationship with food, and protect her body image.