Who Are You (Not)?

For many people, pondering who they might be after recovering from their eating disorder is a natural contemplation. It can stem from intrigue and curiosity, but also, quite frequently, from panic.

If you are amidst the fog of identity uncertainty right now — unsure of who you are without your eating disorder — I want you to firstly be reassured: this uncertainty makes so much sense. An eating disorder not only addles our permission and preferences around food, but often entirely changes how we interact with the world more widely. It alters how we spend our free time, what pleasure we let ourselves experience, what emotions we feel allowed to express, the social circles we nurture, and even what goals we believe we can pursue. When an illness has shaped so much of our inner and outer world, it is very natural that imagining a life with its absence leaves a fair gulf of unknowns.

The second most important initial thing to hear in this in between space is that you do not have to have everything figured out right now. You do not need the full map. You do not have to have tidy definition, clear confirmation or North Star. Because whilst’ the desire for all of that is profoundly human, it is once again a case of tying a sense of stability to certainty and control. In reality, we need to cultivate a tolerance for not knowing and gather proof that we are not only safe to exist one day at a time, but also capable of supporting ourselves as we navigate whatever comes up.

You are redirecting, not lost.

No matter how distant peace feels, or how tangled you still feel in the patterns and thoughts of the eating disorder, I see your ‘who am I, really?’ musings to be good signs. They reflect a tentative admittance: the eating disorder has shaped me into somebody I hardly recognise. Even though that’s almighty disconcerting, I believe that this acknowledgement is essential to any healing process. It represents the mind beginning to imagine a life that isn’t organised around rules, fear, or control and opens up a truth that the eating disorder has an agenda to shroud: life doesn’t have to be this way. Life could feel different.

In my experience, this kind of self-discovery work is much less about holding an expectation to become someone entirely new and far more about learning to unbecome everything you are not. This is a rediscovery of old interests, reconnection to values, and unearthing of ways to relate to yourself in ways that aren’t defined by illness.

Although the eating disorder often promotes that recovery will result in a void of empty space, every single person I have see walk the path of a full recovery notices that recovery most certainly doesn’t erase who they are. Instead, it allows more of them to exist with autonomy, in harmony with their spirit.

This process of becoming is not a journey to “fix” a flawed self or create a new perfect persona. It is about about gradually unwrapping the protective layers we once donned in order to navigate what ever season of life we were bracing ourselves through.

For many reasons, this exploration is not easy. And thus, I’d like to offer a few guiding questions that supported me in my own recovery. When you answer these, keep closely in mind that identity is not fixed; it shifts, expands, and contracts. It is dynamic, intuitive and allowed to change. These question are a mere doorway into curiosity about the many versions of you that are, possibly, waiting to be met.

Who Might You Be?

• What feelings do you hope your future self-experiences more often? (Peace, joy, curiosity, freedom…)

• What activities can you envisage bringing you those feelings?

• What core values will remain unchanged?

• What traits do you like and want to keep—perhaps with a little fine-tuning so they serve you more supportively?

• What qualities feel comforting to imagine yourself embodying?

• How do you want to spend your spare time?

• Who do you want to spend time with?

But identifying who you do want to be is only one side of this work. The other side — the one I want to focus on here in this blog — is just as important: Who do you not want to be?

Which behaviours, reactions, and patterns does the eating disorder pull you into that feel misaligned with your true self?

The good news is that acknowledging what you want freedom from is firmer, more tangible ground than imagining future possibility (freedom to). It comes from your lived truth. It gives language to the incongruence you feel. It names the internal split you fall asleep wrestling with and the tension between how you live now and the soul-point you long to embody.

The difficult news is, however, that this often immensely confronting terrain. Done in the wrong way, without due compassion, it can be weaponised by the eating disorder to induce more shame upon you. So, as you engage in this reflection, you must do so with awareness and care rather than harsh self-critique. If you don't feel in the space to do this solo, please ensure that it is accompanied by a therapist, coach or recovery buddy.

The exercise I invite you to partake in is as follows: the creation of a bullet point list recounting the nuanced and individualised ways that your Eating Disorder shapes your behaviour in ways that feel out of alignment with who you want to be. Quite specifically, this list should outline with clarity the very particular personal situations in which the eating disorder interferes with your world, causing you to act in ways that feel incongruent to your authenticity and that induce cognitive dissonance.

No two lists will ever look the same (so do not use this as a guide!) but here are some example statements gathered and shared (with full permission) from clients:

Who I Will Not Be:

• I will not spend time with my younger sister wishing she would leave so I can eat my snack in peace.

• I will not say I hate food waste (and critique others for it) and then throw away food that my ED finds imperfect or disapproves of.

• I will not wish my days away, willing the clock to move faster until the next moment of “permission” to eat.

• I will not wake up early to perform compulsive rituals in secret, living in fear that someone will hear.

• I will not get angry my partner for getting home early from work and interupting my snack.

• I will not dread my birthday because of a piece of cake.

• I will not verbally attack my mum when she questions me about my stash of disordered food.

• I will not lie to my dad that I have already eaten.

• I will not feel burning rage at my friend when he buys me something from the bakery.

• I will not use my body as a shield to hide disordered actions—like using the kitchen scale—when my mum is in the room.

• I will not lie to a friend that I’m too busy for lunch, but offer a walk instead.

• I will not drag my body through a compulsive walk in the rain.

• I will not spend holidays longing to be home in the familiarity and rigidity of my ED–OCD routine.

• I will not wander the supermarket on my lunch break as though it were a museum.

• I will not dread upcoming holidays because of the change to my eating disorder's preferential schedule.

• I will not have deny myself multiple afternoon snacks with the consequence that I rush my partner the moment he walks in the door from work because I am desperate for dinner.

• I will not move through my day like a tornado, unintentionally dysregulating and destabilising everyone around me.

• I will not reject trying a bite of a cupcake that my son baked at school in his cooking class.

• I will not lie to myself with yet another proposed future recovery date, chasing the carrot I never quite reach.

• I will not postpone food permission for a “special” moment that inevitably still falls short of genuine full permission.

• I will not have my ability to read a book impaired by a shallow attention span caused by undereating. 

• I will not rush around the house, frantic to get everything done before I can finally sit down with a snack.

• I will not glare at the mum in the café whose loud children disrupt my ritual.

  
  

I want to make clear once again that this list is not about blame. It is about truth-telling —because truth-telling is a form of power. When you name what the eating disorder takes from you, you create space for something more aligned to return.

As you explore this, perhaps over several sittings, let it be an act of self-connection to your core values. You are not collecting evidence of failure — you are gathering clarity about the immense tax of maintaining the disorder. Think socially. Think mentally. Think emotionally and energetically. What is the disorder doing to the precious hours of your life?

As far as self exploration goes, this is very tough stuff. And thus, a balance between identifying desired freedom from and freedom to is important. But without doing this hard work, sometimes the motivation of what ‘might’ eventually come ‘if’ we do recovery just isn’t enough of a tug. Furthermore, without clarity, it is all too easy to lose sight of the multitude of ways that an eating disorder does so awfully taint our authenticity and thus why it is so urgent to do the work of a full force recovery.

Every behaviour named and every pattern acknowledged is a step toward loosening the eating disorder’s grip and strengthening your connection to who you truly are beneath it all. Remember that recovery is not a single brave leap. It is series of small, honest recognitions that stimulate committed long-term action. When you understand who you no longer wish to be, you begin to orient yourself toward a life that feels more authentic, more spacious, and more peaceful.

You deserve no less.