The Quiet Conversation So Many Women Hide
May was Mental Health Awareness Month, and during that time I noticed
that this year I've been thinking less about improvement, and more about
humanity. And about the things so many women quietly hide.
Conversations that happen behind closed doors, in dressing rooms, in
therapy settings, after social events, before vacations, late at night in our own minds.
The calculations, the guilt, the bargaining — the feeling that our worth can
somehow rise and fall based on what we ate, what we weigh, or how our
body looks in a photograph.
So, I want to talk openly about disordered eating and eating disorders —
not from a place of judgment, but from a place of compassion and empathy.
Because the truth is: these struggles are incredibly common.
Far more common than most people realize.
And while eating disorders are serious mental health conditions that
deserve support and treatment, many women who may not meet a clinical
diagnosis still live with some form of disordered eating, thoughts, or behaviors.
Chronic dieting. Obsessive food rules. Fear around certain foods. Overexercising.
Guilt after eating. Feeling “good” or “bad” based on what they consumed that day.
For many women, these patterns became normalized long before we
even recognized them.
We Did Not Develop These Thoughts in a Vacuum.
Women have existed inside changing beauty standards for generations.
Every era has had its own version of the “ideal” body. One decade celebrated
curves. Another praised extreme thinness. Another promoted “clean eating,”
hyper-wellness, or sculpted fitness culture. Social media then accelerated all
of it — placing comparison in our pockets 24 hours a day.
At the same time, women were often taught — directly or indirectly —
that being disciplined with food was virtuous.
That smaller meant better. That hunger meant success. That taking
up less space was admirable.
And when you grow up inside a culture that constantly links thinness
with value and appearance with worth, it makes sense that many women
innocently internalize those messages.
There Is Nothing “Crazy” About Wanting to Belong
At its core, so much of this is about belonging.
Humans are wired to seek safety, acceptance, love, and connection.
For women especially, appearance has often been treated as social
currency — whether explicitly or subtly.
So when women struggle with food, body image, or control around
eating, it is not evidence of weakness.
It is evidence of adaptation and survival.
An attempt to feel safe. An attempt to feel enough. An attempt to feel
accepted in a world that has repeatedly told women they should
constantly improve themselves.
Healing Is Rarely Linear
Many women believe that healing means reaching a magical point
where they never think about food, body image, or comparison ever again.
But real healing is often much more nuanced.
Sometimes it looks like:
Letting your body rest.
Speaking to yourself with more kindness.
Choosing nourishment over punishment.
Remembering that there is nothing wrong with you.
Realizing that you are not broken, nor do you need to be fixed.
Realizing your body is a masterpiece for living, not simply an object to evaluate.
And sometimes healing also means recognizing when additional support
is needed. No one has to earn help.
You Are Allowed to Be a Complete Human Being
Eating disorders are real, serious, and deserving of professional
care. Therapy, nutritional support, medical care, and compassionate
community can all play an important role.
You are allowed to care about your health without punishing yourself.
You are allowed to move your body from a place of strength and joy
instead of fear. You are allowed to enjoy food and nourish yourself.
You are allowed to celebrate that you are a full, complete, and lovable
human being just as you are, rather than viewing your worth through
the lens of your appearance, your weight, or what you ate today.
And if this is a conversation you have quietly wrestled with at times
in your life, please know you are deeply, profoundly not alone.
Not broken. Not failing. Not flawed. Just human.
My hope is that we move away from shame and toward honesty,
away from silence and toward support. Away from punishment and
oward compassion. Because so many women have been carrying
versions of this story for far too long — often invisibly.
And perhaps one of the most healing things we can do is simply
recognize ourselves in each other.
With love,
Jessica