November 23, 2023 - 7:05am

Six years ago, I gave up drinking alcohol. I use an app on my phone to track it every now and then, and add another bad habit to relinquish: “problematic eating”, “hating my body”, or something along those lines. Within a few days, I always delete it. I know what not drinking is; when it comes to food, though, “problematic” and “unproblematic” are harder to define. 

According to a new NHS report into the mental health of children and young people, over 20% of older teenage girls now have a diagnosed eating disorder. It’s a staggering statistic, behind which lies an incredibly wide range of deeply distressing and at times life-threatening behaviours. I’m reluctant to compare it to the more everyday distress women like me experience around food (that which the writer Candida Crewe has dubbed “normal-abnormal”). I used to have a formal ED diagnosis and now, thankfully, I don’t. Even so, I feel a connection to these sufferers. When so many young women are struggling so much, it says something about the toxic air we all breathe. 

Various theories are being put forward to explain this week’s horrifying figures. Tom Quinn of Beat has said this shows eating disorders are “far more common than most people realise”. While he is rightly reluctant to point to one reason in particular, he suggests the impact of Covid-19, and the isolation and lack of monitoring experienced by many teenagers during lockdown. It’s appalling to think that, left to their own devices — or exposed to the messages they receive through their screens — so many will self-destruct. 

The disorders captured by the report do not just include anorexia and bulimia, but also other conditions included in the International Classification of Disease. When I see statistics such as these, there is a part of me that wonders, then, whether diagnostic expansion is also a factor. It is a sign of progress, for instance, that a very low weight is no longer viewed as necessary “proof” that one has a significant eating disorder. At the same time, while greater recognition of all the ways in which disordered eating manifests itself might increase the number of those being diagnosed, this does not make the overall numbers any less depressing. These are people we simply might have missed in the past. 

There’s a value in seeing the extent of the problem, though one could argue that 20% does not even cover it. Eating disorders are incredibly complex because they relate to our relationship with food and our sexed bodies, things which are always socially, culturally and politically loaded. 

At a time when more professionals are starting to ask questions about the function and purpose of mental health framings, perhaps we should even be considering the limitations of diagnostic labels for classifying such relationships at all. Right now, the crisis is surely too urgent to dispense with standard diagnostic practices. We should, nonetheless, recognise how porous the boundary between those formally diagnosed and countless other women might be. Indeed, understanding this porousness can form part of recovery. 

You cannot — as I have found with my app — simply opt out of a challenging relationship with food or how the world perceives your body, and you cannot control the latter by an act of will. You can only find people with whom you feel safe to inhabit the only body you’ll ever have. Alas, such things can’t be prescribed on the NHS.

What this latest 20% statistic shows us isn’t just that a particular cohort of girls is in crisis, but that severely disordered eating is in many ways socially and culturally embedded. Care must be taken in treating girls’ concerns seriously without making them feel they are uniquely, irrevocably broken. The situation is more complex than that. Even if — and hopefully when — they recover, it will remain so.


Victoria Smith is a writer and creator of the Glosswitch newsletter.

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