You Will Never Win With an Eating Disorder—Ever
Let me be blunt:
You will never win with an eating disorder. Not ever.
An eating disorder is a war inside your own mind—and it’s one that cannot be won.
No matter how thin you get, it will never be enough to silence that cruel, relentless voice in your head. That voice will keep screaming at you that you’re not thin enough, not disciplined enough, not good enough. You could weigh zero pounds, and it would still call you fat, disgusting, worthless.
That’s not wellness. That’s hell. A living hell.
And the worst part?
You start to believe it. Every. Single. Word.
That eating disorder voice brainwashes you. It manipulates you into thinking it’s your only friend. But the truth is—it’s your worst enemy in disguise. It thrives on punishing you. And it won’t stop until you decide to stop listening.
Sounds simple, right?
It’s not. I know.
I remember breaking down while telling my mom about it. I told her how the voice said I was a pig, that I didn’t deserve food, that I was worthless. Through tears, she said, “Just tell the voice to shut the hell up.”
I cried harder.
“I can’t.”
Because deep down, I thought that voice was protecting me. Twisted as it sounds, I thought it was my ally. It promised me happiness, love, and a beautiful life—but only if I was thin enough. Only if I earned it.
Here’s the painful truth about eating disorders:
You will never be thin enough to get the life it promises.
Not ever.
That “friend” of yours? It’s playing a game you’ll never win. It dangles the carrot—thinness, worthiness, acceptance—just out of reach. Every time you think you’re close, it yanks it away, laughing:
“Did you really think you deserved that? Look at you. You’re disgusting.”
That’s the voice I listened to for years.
And when I finally started my recovery journey, ohhh it got mad.
“They’re going to make you fat.”
“They’re lying to you.”
“I’m the only one who tells the truth.”
But I kept going.
I let it scream in the background. I didn’t always win—I slipped sometimes—but I didn’t give up. I forgave myself, picked myself up, and kept moving forward.
Little by little, the voice lost its power.
It didn’t happen overnight. It took years. And even now, during stressful times, it likes to check in. But I don’t entertain it. I hear the knock at the door and politely say, “No thanks. Not today. We don’t do that anymore.”
That voice is no longer welcome in my life.
And trust me—it doesn’t belong in yours either.
You deserve peace. You deserve freedom. You deserve a full, beautiful life without that voice tearing you down.
If you’re stuck in the cycle of disordered eating and self-hate, please know this:
Recovery is real. Recovery is worth it. And most importantly—recovery is possible.
much love, kelly