An eating disorder is a fickle, illogical creature. A spoiled dictator playing tough, spewing hateful diatribes and insisting that you walk backwards around your apartment to better engage your glutes and burn more calories. Yeah ok.

When I was in my eating disorder, I followed some truly ridiculous rules - ones that made little to no actual sense yet felt totally necessary at the time.

Looking back, I can’t help but laugh at how weird some of them were and how seriously I took them, as if breaking one would cause the universe to implode. It’s a perfect example of how powerful our minds are and that we can convince ourselves of just about anything, for better or worse.

For your curiosity, enjoyment, and delight, I'm sharing some of the absurd "hills" my eating disorder would’ve died on back then, plus how I turned that same mental fortitude toward recovery. And if you see yourself in any of these absurdities, please know I'm not laughing at you. Struggling with an eating disorder or disordered eating is no laughing matter. But I am laughing at former me, in a good-natured, shaking-my-head sort of way, and I've earned the right to some chuckles.

The Exclusive (and Silly) "Safe Foods" Club

Are you frightened of bananas? I used to be. And this was long before the current "bananas have too much sugar" bullshit trend. I feared them because of what I perceived to be their dense texture. They weren't juicy like other fruits, so I told myself they had less water and that I should avoid them.

But a bowl of ice cream? No problem. I'd be pretty cruel to myself after eating it, but ice cream was not off limits. Weird, huh?

Do you hate mustard? I do. I have my ENTIRE life. I hate it to this day. But guess who ate it like there was no tomorrow for several years? 👉 This gal! 👈 Why? Because mustard was "safe." Cue the eye roll.

"Safe foods" only become such because we assign meaning to them and then just keep reinforcing it to ourselves.

Celery was also safe because someone on the internet once wrote that it was a negative-calorie food, meaning you burn more calories digesting it than the food itself has. (And you should definitely believe everything you read on random blogs and forums.) "Omggg I just loveeeee this snack," I'd say when I got weird looks for scooping up heaps of mustard with celery and baby carrots.

My Math is Better

Did you know that three 100-calorie servings of a food are definitely better for you than one 300-calorie serving? That’s just facts. Science.

"But, Josie, that doesn't make any sense."

YES, IT DOES. MY EATING DISORDER SAID SO.

I hate how hard I fell for the "100-calorie" marketing gimmick of the early aughts. Hook, line, and sinker. Oh, you mean I can pay more money for less food and pat myself on the back for my incredible willpower? SIGN ME UP. Nothing says “discipline” like carefully rationing out my sad little packs of air-puffed cardboard while pretending I’m totally satisfied.

And don’t even get me started on breaking a chalky protein bar into pieces because several bites eaten 20 minutes apart have fewer calories than all of it all at once. That’s just math. My math. And my math is better.

Movement, But Make It Weird

Oh, you casually walk from one room to another like a regular person? Cute. I, on the other hand, lunged my way across my apartment like I was doing a never-ending CrossFit circuit. Walking backwards? Yeah, it's obviously superior to walking forward; everyone knows that’s how you really engage your glutes. Again, facts. (You get my sarcasm, right?)

And let’s talk about putting things away. Shoes, for example. Someone without a hijacked brain picks them both up and carries them in one go. Not me. No, I transported them one at a time from the entryway to my bedroom, savoring every unnecessary step (or lunge) because, hey, extra movement = extra calories burned. Efficiency is my specialty.

These were the kinds of movement rules I followed with religious devotion, as if the universe would reward me for sneaking in just a little more movement, a few more burned calories. Because in those days, every step, every lunge, every backwards shuffle pacified my eating disorder.

Lessons Learned

When I had one foot in recovery and one foot in my eating disorder, I often struggled to know if I was doing the right thing. That's the hard part about resisting the full immersion needed to recover. Need to know if you're on track in recovery? Try this tip:

If your eating disorder is pissed, you're doing the right thing.

If you don't think you have what it takes to recover, guess again. If you have what it takes to sustain an eating disorder, you have what it takes to heal from one. The brainpower that fuels the rigid, ridiculous rules can be channeled toward self-compassion and a determination to move forward. And when your goal is no longer shrinking yourself but rather nourishing yourself, challenging fear, and choosing freedom, you're unstoppable.

A Day in the Life of Full Recovery

If anybody reading this post has a sneaky eating disorder voice saying, "But maybe we should try some of this. Maybe she's onto something..." No. Please don't. All of this was meaningless torture, and it seriously f'd up my mental, emotional, and physical well-being.

These days, I wake up and eat breakfast because I’m hungry. No internal debate, no mental (bad) math, no trying to “hold off” until "the right time" to eat. Just me, enjoying my food.

I move when I want to, not because I feel like I have to. No backward walking, no hallway lunges, no obsessing over whether I “earned” my next meal. I like walking outside (in a forward motion) and lifting weights, but there are days I happily do neither. Movement doesn’t define my worth.

Grocery shopping? I still don't love it, but I no longer scan all the labels for the lowest-calorie option, no standing in the checkout line battling my own brain over whether I’m “allowed” to buy these things. No abandoning the cart in the middle of the aisle and just ghosting.

Meals with friends? Zero stress. I order what I want, eat until I’m satisfied, and move on with my day. No guilt, no bargaining, no compensating later. Just laughter, connection, and food being just food.

No more constant calculations, no more intrusive food thoughts, and no more exhausting rules. Just peace. And let me tell you, peace tastes way better than anything my eating disorder ever promised me.

That's a REAL fact. ✌️

✨ Josie Munroe, LMFT is a licensed therapist and owner of JosieMunroe.com and Your Sensitive Recovery.  As a recovered clinician and Highly Sensitive Person, she loves supporting others on their journeys to form new, empowered relationships with food, their bodies, and their sensitivity. Join the newsletter for a weekly boost of hope and inspiration. You deserve a recovery that works for you! ✨