"I used veganism as a way to hide my eating disorder": How Veganuary Puts Vulnerable People at Risk
by Alex Wright
Content warning: experience of eating disorders
It’s the start of a new year, which means only one thing: Veganuary. Like over a quarter of a million other people, I will be attempting to cut out all animal products from my diet and lifestyle in a bid to help the animals – and the environment. It’s my second year taking part, although for the past year and a half I have operated under a “flexi-vegan” status. That is to say, I try to be as vegan as possible, but I refuse to feel guilty if I have, say, a bar of chocolate. I have the utmost respect for people who are incredibly strict with it, but for both my physical and mental health this doesn’t work for me. This is something I’ve had to learn from experience.
It’s difficult to say when my eating disorder struggle first started, but for a considerable part of my life I’ve dealt with everything from bulimia and anorexia to binge eating. This was my way to stay grounded during a period when everything else was out of my control. My road to recovery eventually merged into a vegetarian diet. With an increased societal pressure to go entirely vegan, however, it was easy to see myself slipping back into old patterns – only this time I had an excuse not to eat, or to limit what I was eating; an excuse that was difficult to argue with.
I’m not trying to say that I only went vegan in an effort to lose weight. I did, and still do believe in the ethical and moral reasons behind a vegetarian/vegan diet, which is why I’m attempting Veganuary again this year. However, I can’t deny that the ease with which I was able to cut out entire meals from my daily routines – without prompting any “concern” or nagging – was incredibly alluring. And I’m not the only one who thinks like this. A study in 2013 found that people with an eating disorder history were 52% more likely to have been vegetarian, with 68.1% of these participants feeling that there was a relation between vegetarianism and their eating disorder.
The image of veganism in the media is one of skinny, tanned, cucumber-water drinking, yoga mat carrying, bikini wearing girls, all full of ethereal energy without – seemingly – a care in the world. It’s a “diet” that is fundamentally associated with losing weight and “clean” eating. This brand of veganism gives the illusion of being the healthiest you can be, wrapped up under a familiar dietary label that is, at its core, incredibly hard to argue with. How can you tell someone who’s given up animal products that they shouldn’t be doing it? You’re at a moral and ethical disadvantage before you even start.
That’s not to say veganism is inherently bad. It can be a healthy choice, but as registered dietitian Abbey Sharp points out, it is also “an extreme diet, and without a very clear, moderate head space, it can often lead to eating disorders”.
Veganism, for me, gave me an excuse to showcase my disordered eating in public. To brandish it under the noses of people I knew would be concerned for me if they knew what was going on in my head, but chalked up my denial of a takeaway, or meal out, or lunch treat to my new “trendy” diet.
This year, I’m more aware of the warning signs, and the slip ups, and I’m capable of saying “this isn’t right”. I doubt I’ll ever be able to commit to a fully vegan diet, but I also don’t think I’ll ever turn away from vegetarianism. I like the structure and the control, except now I’m the one in control – not the food.
Cover image by Alex Wright.
Alex Wright is a freelance journalist and editor based in Leeds, with an MA in English Literature from the University of Leeds. Read more by Alex on Harpy.
