Hildegard

Hildegard

“Kat, I didn’t know you were pregnant!”

She said it with such joy and enthusiasm, you could tell she was genuinely happy for me. She admired me and thought I was fabulous; having kids would be fabulous, too.

I stole a glance at the 40-year-old woman sitting next to her, a new friend I’d made in the last few days as we were carted around the Dominican Republic to view resorts and excursions where we could send tourists. She had an understanding look in her eyes, wondering what I would do next.

“I’m not,” I replied. “It’s old age. And I’m embracing it.”

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From whence the food issues

When I was in second grade, I remember watching a film in class about volcanoes and thinking that the molten lava looked like melted cheese. Even while the other kids were shouting out funny statements about the image, I kept my mouth shut, because I didn’t want them to think I always thought about food.

We were never restricted food growing up. We were allowed to eat whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted to. I could have string cheese or an apple or Doritos or a sandwich or Oreos. We had plenty of food to choose from.

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My meal plan

I had my first meeting with a nutritionist on Wednesday. She specializes in eating disorders and was recommended by the eating disorder treatment center that originally gave me my diagnosis. I had never been to a nutritionist before, although I’d worked with personal trainers and had done dieting apps. I wasn’t really sure what to expect, even though I’d done tons and tons of research into my eating disorder.

I basically gushed for the first 45 minutes to an hour, telling her everything about my history with food and how I had come to this diagnosis. It was just like going to a therapist, except we were talking about food. We discussed my history with antidepressants, my current medications, my eating habits, how food was offered in my childhood, and what I’d come to believe about food.

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I have an eating disorder

This past month, I was diagnosed with an eating disorder.

It’s probably not the one you think, and if you know me, you probably don’t think I “look” like someone with an eating disorder. You probably would also tell me it doesn’t sound like something clinical if you heard what it was.

It took me 37 years to figure out what my eating disorder was, and now that I have the diagnosis, I feel a great sense of relief. The only thing now is to get to work.

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