OP gets it because OP used to be Anorexic. Fuck it, get it out there. I'm 5'8 and I was 113 lbs for almost 3 years. I was doing regular (non-porn) modeling at the time and my agent would measure me once a week, and every week she would tell me to lose inches, despite that I was turning into a skeleton with a skin suit. Many of my memories at the time are faded because I walked around in a fugue from the effects of starvation. My main sources of calories were champagne, skim milk lattes, and whatever tobacco stuck to my lips from the cigarettes I was encouraged to chain-smoke. I thought about food all the time, every freaking second, it became an obsession not to eat, a will to power.
The mostly positive feedback from modeling friends and at the shallow nightclub hangouts was the only good thing. Women were jealous (which, unlike now,made me feel good at the time because I was indoctrinated to think that it should) men who previously could care less were suddenly interested when they heard "model" like it held some kind of magical power that suddenly made me attractive. You become addicted to the attention and it's like a drug. One credit I will give to my uber-religious upbringing was that it kept me off cocaine at the time or I for sure would be dead.
It becomes an actual somatic disorder where at some point you are physically incapable of discerning what you look like in a mirror, a full blown visual delusion. You see fat where none exists and try to suck in your bones. This is why a woman can get down to 85 lbs and see her self as fat, because she actually sees herself as fat.
My super-genius, Audrey Hepburn lookalike grandmother had it. She lived until 90, but her bones were like like breadsticks at the end and she died from broken hips.
Getting pregnant and being fat was a wonderful thing for me. The world didn't end! Woo-hoo! Despite that I hadn't been "actively" Anorexic for several years, it never goes away. It's always there in the back of your mind, the idea that being fat would be worse than death.
Having another person to care for, a part of me no less, forced my hand so to speak. I was fat and that was that. It was a relief in a lot of ways, because I was unmistakably fat. I had these lovely big bosoms which was rather nice, and people weren't that bad. Not as bad as I thought they would be anyways.
It really pissed off my sister too, which I kinda found amusement in, I don't know why. She'd get angry when I'd eat poutine so I'd want to do it more.
The reason I became thin again was because they gym was my outlet from being a Mom. They had a great daycare at the rec centre near where I lived so I lifted weights, ran and did classes to burn off tension and have a break. Plus, I was doing attachment parenting and my child was 10lbs at birth to begin with, so it was getting harder to lug the sling around with my extra weight on top of it. Being a Mom is a lot of active work too, as you Mommies know.
I do know I was happier and more stable as a fat Momma than as an emaciated drunken model with cigarette breath.
I'm thin now and yeah there are advantages to that, but I would be a fat over being anorexic again any time.
Nice is good! Mean is bad!
