Whenever anyone tells me I’m beautiful I think they are joking. I was never the prettiest or the most popular girl at school, so why should I be now? I was always the quiet, shy one in the corner, I still am in many respects, but I am beginning to find my voice.
When people learn that I have been recovering from Anorexia Nervosa for over half a decade the first thing they want to ask me is how modelling has had an impact on my mental and physical health. They then seem almost a little disappointed when I tell them that I have never felt any pressure to be a certain size or look a certain way when I was with an agency. I have a strange relationship with modelling. I do it to try to understand why others seem to think I am pretty, because I have always felt the exact opposite. I want to understand what others see in me and have the chance to be made in to someone I’m not. Someone who doesn’t hate their body so much, someone who isn’t mentally and as a result physically sick.
I have had experiences in modelling where the images or videos were not used because i was so thin. Thankfully, those days are over and the worst of my eating disorder is far behind me. I won’t go into the depths of the causes, treatment or process of recovery because it is still very raw and painful for me.
I am both fiercely proud of my recovery and deeply ashamed. Revealing this hidden part of me is something I will always be very cautious about. It takes a certain person to be anorexic. Someone who is determined, hardworking and willing to push the limits, without letting anything get in the way. If you told me that in the space of five years I would have modelled for Adidas and Monki, been featured on Vogue Italia.com, completed two degrees, been a debutante in Moscow, London and Vienna and curated an exhibition to promote awareness about mental illness in young people I would have said you were joking. Yet there is still that nagging voice in me that to this day tells me that I should and could be doing more.
I would say that I am 80% recovered, but I still have to watch myself and make sure I am feeding my mind and body the way it deserves. There are days when I could think of nothing worse than having lunch with work colleagues or dinner with friends, but now I know to push myself away from anorexia, instead of towards it. In the last couple of years I have also begun to dance, which is something I would not have been able to do in my late teens as my body just would not have been able to handle it.
I still model from time to time. To be honest I still don’t understand why people would choose to photograph me over anyone else on this planet. But, for at least some of the time, I do it because I am interested in the concept and the art of photography, instead of trying to escape from myself.
I fully respect Lizzy for all she has achieved and for being brave and writing about this subject. However, my reaction to the phrase ‘it takes a certain person to be anorexic’ is uncomfortable (and note this is my reaction, I will own it, there is no criticism here). ‘Determined’ and ‘hardworking’ are typically positive characteristics, implying that developing anorexia is some kind of win, or achievement, and frames it in a potentially valuable light. In reality it is a mental and physical illness. I wondered how it would sound if I said it takes a certain person to be bulimic? Or have binge eating disorder? Or to be depressed? Would we feel the same way? Would we describe them as determined and hardworking? I get that the discourse around anorexia and eating disorders in general is so tricky, it’s a minefield really, so again this is not a criticism, just a comment that popped into my mind. Well done again Lizzy for being open and brave.