Eating Disorders: The Truth About Why ‘Just Eat’ Isn’t Helpful

Eating disorders are often misunderstood.

It sounds so simple—give someone a plate of food and say, “Just eat.” Problem solved, right? For most people, that might be the case. But most doesn’t mean everyone.

For those struggling with an eating disorder, those two words bring more stress than comfort. These words can feel dismissive, invalidating, and frustrating.

We often forget that eating disorders are mental health illnesses. The physical side isn’t the main aspect. Regardless of shape, size, weight, or symptoms, anyone can have an eating disorder. While food plays a major role, you can eat and still struggle.

I have to admit that before I became ill, I thought eating disorders had a certain image—obsession about food, weight, and calories. But that isn’t the case.

Eating disorders don’t have a certain look; anyone can have one.

They’re about control, emotions, and self-worth.

Why ‘JUST EAT’ Is Frustrating

So why are the simple words ‘just eat’ frustrating for us?

If recovery were as simple as eating, eating disorders wouldn’t exist.

Saying “just eat” is like telling someone with depression to “just be happy.” It completely overlooks the psychological, emotional, and neurological factors at play.

Whenever someone told me to “just eat,” it only made my eating disorder stronger. Even hearing the words “eat” or “food” triggered panic.

Looking back, it’s strange to think that I feared words– but at the time, they felt dangerous, almost manipulative. I was convinced that anyone who said them wanted me to gain weight, or in my eating disorder’s eyes ‘become fat’ and lose control. 

But in reality, all they were trying to do was help.

And I get it. What else could they say?

Not having struggled with an eating disorder makes it difficult to understand what’s going on in our heads. That’s why opening up and talking is so important – but I know how hard that can be.

My parents spent years trying to understand, and they continue to learn. However, they did have to learn the hard way—through my relapses, struggles, and suffering.

I am incredibly grateful that they stood by me, even if it destroyed them from the inside.

At times when I was doing better, I was able to open up a little more, giving them an insight into my mind. But when the eating disorder’s voice grew louder, they were left in the dark again, unsure how to help.

Eating Disorders And Fear of Losing Control

As I mentioned, eating disorders are more than just food and appearances; they are also about control. Control over: 

• What, when, how we eat→ I had strict rules: specific plates, exact meal times, and a rigid pace.
• What others are eating→making sure that everyone around you is eating more than you so that you feel like a ‘winner’ for not listening to your hunger cues. 
• Over appearance→Every gram lost felt like an achievement. Every gram gained felt like failure.
• How much movement others are getting→I felt the need to do more than everyone else. If I saw someone walking outside, I would follow them until I couldn’t anymore—then I’d find someone else and do it again. Some days, this meant walking from morning until night.
• Controlling hunger and fullness cues→ suppressing your body’s signals  
• Over numbers→Weighing and measuring everything down to the gram. Spending hours in the supermarket only to leave empty-handed. But let me tell you something…life is better without scales.
• Routines and rituals: Countless rules, repeated behaviors, and rigid habits that felt impossible to break.

And so much more– it’s different for everyone.

“Just eat” goes against all these rules. Threatening to dismantle every carefully built routine and illusion of control.

One of the strangest habits I developed was that I had to go to the toilet before every meal, even if I didn’t need to. Otherwise, I didn’t feel "ready" to eat.

Eating = I am better

There’s also an unspoken fear: If I eat, will people assume I’m better? That I am healed? Healthy?

That thought haunted me. 

In recovery, I feared people would worry less about me.

I craved attention for as long as I can remember—not because I wasn’t loved but because I didn’t feel truly seen or heard. As I grew older, I noticed that when I was hurt or ill, I received more care and attention, which, over time, led to other struggles—like self-harm.

Receiving comments like “You look better!” “You’re eating!” “You have a bit more colour in your face” made me nervous. Made me fear losing the concern and care I had grown attached to.

But now I understand. They weren’t dismissing my struggles. Instead, they were grateful to see ME again. They wanted to believe everything would be okay, that my struggles would finally end.

Struggling with triggering comments? I found this helpful: How To Respond To TRIGGERING COMMENTS In Eating Disorder Recovery

Just because someone says, “You look better,” doesn’t mean you’re healed.

Eating disorders are masters of deception.

They twist well-meaning words into reasons to stop recovery: If they think I look better, maybe I’m fine. Maybe I don’t need to keep going. I could live like this. I am fine.

But recovery isn’t just about looking different—it’s about feeling different.

Healing takes time, and it happens when your mind is free, healing mentally and emotionally, not just when your body looks different.

I had to learn not to trust my eating disorder. Not to listen to its lies. I hope you do the same.

Kind reminder: You are more than your eating disorder, and full recovery is possible. Go at your own pace. Don’t allow your eating disorder to control you anymore.

Stay strong—you deserve a life beyond this!