There’s a never-ending amount of reading I could do in relation to my work. Literally, never-ending – text books, journal papers, even Twitter threads. But I so often default to memoir for understanding. Yes, it’s only one person’s account but it’s the personal nature of that account that makes it meaningful. Case in point is a scene from Hadley Freeman’s memoir about her battle with anorexia, Good Girls – she’s 15, and with her family at a restaurant –

…I was hungry. God, I was so hungry. And so I ordered my favourite dish and, before I knew it, I’d eaten almost all of it, and when I stopped to take a breath and saw the empty bowl, I screamed inside. My family smiled happily at me, and my parents looked at each other with a ‘There, all sorted’ look on their faces. They were happy, and that was better than them being angry at me.

I don’t know all that much about disordered eating, but to me, that one quote captures the turmoil, the shame, and the pressure. Continue reading →