"I Wish I Didn’t Eat”: The Invisible Pain Behind Disordered Eating
“I wish I had an eating disorder — I’d be so skinny.”
“Ugh, I wish I just didn’t get hungry.”
If you’ve spent enough time around diet culture — or honestly, just being human in our body-obsessed world — you’ve probably heard something like this. Maybe even said it yourself. It's often tossed out like a joke or complaint, a casual wish for self-control, thinness, or a break from hunger.
But here’s the thing: there is nothing sexy about an eating disorder.
As an Associate Marriage and Family Therapist — and someone who has personally battled an invisible eating disorder — I want to speak directly to this mindset, because while it might seem harmless, it reveals just how deeply disordered our collective relationship with food and body image has become.
The Myth: People with Eating Disorders Just "Stop Eating"
There’s this common and dangerous assumption that people with eating disorders simply “aren’t hungry.” That we somehow stop feeling it. That it's easier for us. But hunger doesn’t disappear — we override it. It becomes a battle of willpower over biology, and it is far from peaceful.
Restricting food isn’t empowering. It’s desperate. It often stems from a deep need to control something — anything — when life feels out of control. It’s a coping mechanism, not a choice rooted in confidence or self-love.
The Reality: It’s Not About Vanity, It’s About Pain
Looking in the mirror and thinking “I look huge” is not fun. Avoiding social events because you don’t want to eat in public, or fearing food more than failure — that’s not glamorous. Feeling like you’ll never be comfortable in your skin? That’s something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
When I was growing up, I never ate enough for how active I was — and no one really questioned it. In college, I started skipping meals. I’d survive on a mango, a bit of chocolate, and dinner. I made sure I ate in the evening because that was when people noticed. But no one tracked my breakfasts. No one saw me avoid lunch. Because I didn’t “look” sick, no one knew I was struggling.
My eating disorder was invisible. But it was very real.
I eventually had to walk into someone’s office and say: “I need help. I’m tired. I don’t want to live like this anymore.”And that was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done — not just because of the vulnerability it required, but because even in that moment, I feared not being believed.
And on top of that, I was terrified to eat.
I didn’t know how to eat anymore. I was scared that eating would make me gain weight. I didn’t trust my body, and I didn’t trust myself. That fear — of food, of fatness, of being “too much” — was paralyzing.
The Problem: Disordered Eating Is Normalized
When someone says they wish they didn’t get hungry, or they envy the “discipline” of an eating disorder, what they’re really doing is revealing the distorted values we’ve absorbed as a culture. The obsession with thinness. The moralizing of food. The constant pressure to shrink ourselves.
And they may not realize: they’re already participating in disordered eating themselves.
Here’s a truth that isn’t talked about enough — you don’t have to be underweight to have an eating disorder. You don’t have to be skipping every meal. You don’t even have to “hate your body” out loud. Eating disorders are about behavior and psychology, not just appearances. And often, the most dangerous ones are the easiest to hide.
Types of Eating Disorders — Including the Invisible Ones
Eating disorders are complex and can present in many different forms, including:
Anorexia Nervosa – Characterized by extreme restriction of food intake, fear of gaining weight, and distorted body image.
Bulimia Nervosa – Involves cycles of binge eating followed by purging (vomiting, excessive exercise, or laxatives).
Binge Eating Disorder – Frequent episodes of consuming large amounts of food, often in secret, accompanied by shame or guilt.
Orthorexia – An obsession with “clean” or “healthy” eating that becomes restrictive or interferes with life.
Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder (ARFID) – Limited eating not related to body image, often due to sensory sensitivities or fear of certain food consequences.
OSFED (Other Specified Feeding or Eating Disorder) – Disordered eating that doesn’t fit neatly into a diagnosis but is still harmful and real.
Invisible eating disorders — the kind that don’t show up in dramatic weight loss, the kind that fly under the radar of “concern” — are just as valid and dangerous.
A Call for Compassion
If you’ve ever found yourself wishing you could just “stop eating,” ask yourself — what’s really underneath that thought? Is it discomfort in your body? A desire to feel in control? A fear of being seen? You don’t need to judge yourself. But you do owe it to yourself to be curious and compassionate.
And if you’ve struggled silently like I did — know this: your pain is real, even if no one else sees it. You don’t have to wait until it gets worse to ask for help. You’re allowed to take up space, and you’re allowed to eat.
Final Thoughts
The truth is, we live in a world that praises disordered behavior as “healthy” — skipping meals, overexercising, obsessing over calories. But real health is about wholeness, not restriction. I do want to note that there is nothing wrong with eating healthy and exercising, but when it becomes an obsession it’s time to talk to someone about it.
So no — I wouldn’t wish an eating disorder on anyone. Not even a “mild” one. Not even an “invisible” one. Because what you don’t see is the toll it takes — on the body, the mind, and the soul.
And if you’re tired, like I was, of living in that quiet war with yourself — it’s okay to ask for help. You’re not alone. And healing is possible.
Warmly,
Abbey Vince, AMFT
