Grayed Out

As told to Miriam Bloch

E

ver since I can remember, my world revolved around food.

In retrospect, I don’t believe it was a problem I developed or something that someone did to me. I believe it was something I was born with. My mother always told me I was never done eating; even as a baby, I’d finish my bottle and want to keep going. I never didn’t want to eat. I constantly wanted more, and it was always a Thing — every day, every meal, between meals. My whole life was about food: how much I was allowed, what were good foods, bad foods, healthy, not healthy, this is what will make me fat, these are the quantities that will make me fat.

I still ate whatever I wanted.

My early memories are obscure. But I always knew this: I was different. I had something to be ashamed of. The rule in my head was: If I was fat, I was a bad person; if I was thin, I was a good person.

As an adult, I know that these messages were never intentional, but a conglomeration of the different things I’d seen and heard and been through as a child. The way I interpreted watching those close to me being careful with their food intake, their appearances….