Eating disorder
I’ve struggled with an eating disorder since I was 17, a battle that intensified during my time in Beijing. During that period, everything I did felt insufficient—it was never enough. For many years, I never shared these struggles publicly because in Asian culture, admitting weakness feels like surrender. Determined to stay “strong,” I refused to give in early hence the quiet battle. However, I noticed the problem resurfaced after leaving my banking job to pursue a new territory of interests.
In a typical week, I might strictly control my diet for five days, only to spend the other two cycling between binge eating, self-loathing, and intense exercising.
For all these years, I’ll never forget that random winter night in 2018. After finishing my midterm exams, I collapsed on the floor, eating non-stop and crying, unable to sleep until 5 a.m. Staring at the ceiling, I wondered if this was it—if I was going to die. I know that anxiety stemmed from my calculus exam and peer pressure, and it spiraled out of control into extreme eating behavior.
But I never failed the exam, and in my four years of studies, I never failed any. That premature fear seems ridiculous now, but in that moment of weakness, it felt close to death. This, is my version of eating disorder.
The sharing today is a tribute to my youth, from ages 18 to 22, and a small wish to heal myself through openness.
Perfectionism
Perfection is BS, and it always clashes with reality.
We rationally know life is full of variables beyond our plans, and we can’t control ourselves like machines. Yet, emotionally, it is hard to resist setting high expectations or expecting extraordinary results in a short time. I felt utterly overwhelmed during my Tsinghua years. Surrounded by brilliant minds selected through the grueling Gaokao, my average intellect caused me immense pain. Despite the struggle, I couldn’t quit the rat race—exchange programs, scholarships, internships, and every “involution” (内卷) competition. What followed were late-night breakdowns, crying, and binge eating shamefully in my dorm. These scars, just like my hard-earned achievements, are profound imprints of my growth.
In a highly competitive environment, I realized how much unnecessary suffering arose from setting excessively high standards and being overly critical of myself. My self-oriented perfectionism always clashes with reality, and binge eating or not eating at all feels like instant gratification or punishment to ease my vulnerabilities.
Perfectionism pleases your ego in a subtle way. I know the sick satisfaction in my throat when I starve myself and know exactly how easy it is to slip from one bite to uncontrollable eating. As shameful as it feels, one lapse in self-control can trigger a tornado. Ironically, post-binge guilt reinforces beliefs like “I’m failing” or “I’m not achieving,” perpetuating the cycle. With better self-understanding, I’ve gained more control over this issue, though relapses still happen occasionally. Over the years, I’ve developed a set of strategies that have helped me, and I hope they can help you too:
#1 Throw Away the “All-or-Nothing” Mentality
Having more flexibility isn’t a sign of weakness but strength, though those of us raised in tough environments might find it hard to believe. “All or nothing” is not cool but a cognitive distortion, as progress isn’t always linear. I’ve worked to stop thinking without a middle ground—eating one “junk” food doesn’t mean I’ve ruined everything. The moment you pause and pick yourself up is an act of bravery, and it prevents self-sabotage.
When you start to appreciate the middle ground, you find life easier, and it even improves your interpersonal skills.
#2 Reduce Access
I have a sweet tooth and know it well; that’s why I never spend money on sweet things. If my hard-earned money turns into sweet food, my inner child wants to devour it all. Reducing exposure to trigger foods helps me think about them less. This applies to food delivery apps too. Delete them if you are obsessed with scrolling without a purpose. (Tho I still holds Meituan and want it to rally back 😂)
#3 Count Your Blessings
I grew up in a traditional Chinese family where wasting food is seen as deeply negative, believed to bring “bad karma.” I was raised with the saying, “Every grain of rice is hard-earned,” （粒粒皆辛苦）and having witnessed farmers’ hard work firsthand, I understand the toil behind food production. It is good to think of the repercussions of your actions in a more philosophical way. It is straightforward thinking to understand that wasting resources is not a virtue. With this mindset, reminding myself that people worked hard to bring this meal to me helps me avoid taking it for granted.
#4 Self-Compassion
Self-compassion means being non-judgmental toward yourself. I used to make myself the enemy, thinking pushing my own limits would lead to more achievements. But there’s never “enough.”
Furthermore, realizing my body is the medium of my soul, which I rely on to explore life’s wonders, provokes more self-compassion. It is a transient tool that I depend on to obtain knowledge and achieve wisdom. Falling into a self-berating cycle because of food is simply not wise.
**Lastly…**
It’s a lifelong journey to understand yourself, it is ok if you fail once here and there. Everyone has their own pace and ways. The above sharing reflects my struggles over the years, and I hope to inspire through my own reflection. Gambateh!
**Disclaimer**: The information provided about eating disorders, perfectionism, self-compassion, and related topics is for general informational purposes only and is not intended to serve as medical, psychological, or professional advice. It is not a substitute for diagnosis, treatment, or guidance from a qualified healthcare provider, such as a doctor, therapist, or registered dietitian. If you are experiencing symptoms of an eating disorder or any mental health concerns, please consult a licensed professional for personalized advice and support. Always seek professional help for matters related to your health and well-being.