"But it's just so obvious they have an eating disorder."
The wicked consequences of assuming thin celebrities have anorexia
A certain Broadway musical adaptation has just arrived in theaters, and alongside the anticipation came an unexpected viral discussion topic: that the stars of the film look too thin and must be suffering from anorexia.
For lots of reasons, I’m not going to chime in on whether I think these actresses do or do not have an eating disorder.
Instead, I want to explore the public concern phenomenon itself—and why it’s harmful, including to people with eating disorders.
First, I get why fans are worried. And I don’t think anyone is a bad person for being genuinely concerned about someone’s wellbeing.
I, too, sometimes find myself wondering if a public figure—or even a stranger in the grocery store—might be suffering from an eating disorder. My Spidey Sense starts tingling for all kinds of reasons, but small body size can definitely get my mind going there even though I know eating disorders affect people across the weight spectrum.
Because of personal experience and the work I do, I tend to have a strong reaction to conspicuous thinness. The Harvard Implicit Bias Test on body size, for instance, told me I hold a slight unconscious bias against thinner bodies (you won’t be surprised to learn I am a statistical outlier on that one).
It makes sense that my brain associates extreme thinness not only with life-threatening illness but also with the forces that fuel people’s efforts to shrink themselves, whether literal “pro-ana”1 accounts or just mainstream fitness and wellness influencers selling weight loss.
This is all to say I understand why people might jump to the conclusion that something could be wrong when an already thin actress appears even thinner.
But I want to explore some of the insidious stereotypes and collateral damage that come with this kind of fan concern:
Undertones of “accusation” and “suspicion” reinforce shame about eating disorders.
The language and gossipy tone in a lot of public speculation reinforces the false narrative that these illnesses are a choice, and a scandalous one at that. It’s a reminder that there is still a lot of misinformation and stigma.
Scrutinizing and comparing bodies fuels eating disorders.
Online discussions frequently include criticism of the attractiveness of these women’s bodies—”they don’t look beautiful anymore.” Objectifying bodies is wrong in and of itself, and this kind of judgment contributes to poor self-image and eating disorders. And contrary to popular belief, telling someone who’s lost weight due to anorexia that they “looked better before” is not usually helpful or motivating.
Analysis of before-and-after photos feels like the internet funhouse version of something people do every day in real life: pointing out that someone’s body has changed since the last time you saw them. It’s like we’ve been brainwashed to assess and constantly surveil the silhouettes of our friends and family members—and favorite celebrities—like one of those AI sizing bots that scans your body for measurements. How much of our brain space is taken up with the dimensions of other people’s bodies, not to mention our own?
Diet culture hates the idea of someone becoming smaller unless they do it “the right way.”
In the online discussions of these stars and their possible eating disorders, I noticed a certain type of body policing that echoes the way people talk about GLP-1 medications as “cheating” or “taking the easy way out.” Despite our culture’s absolute obsession with thinness, we have a weird way of reacting when people’s bodies do become thinner. There seems to be only one acceptable way to become thinner; it must involve “hard work,” “sacrifice,” and “discipline” but also not become “obsessive” or “rigid”—or go “too far.”
So if someone has lost weight because of an eating disorder, there is often this unspoken anger that they have transgressed the boundaries of diet culture. They aren’t following our culture’s rules of acceptable ways to lose weight—even though, in many cases, eating disorder behaviors are literally the very thing being prescribed by doctors for people in larger bodies.
Becoming thinner because you physically and/or mentally can’t eat enough—whether because of medication, surgery, or an illness—is perceived, somehow, as getting away with something.
We also don’t like to have visual reminders of the entirely predictable outcome of living in a lose-weight-at-any-cost world. Blaming and ostracizing people with certain eating disorders allows us to distance ourselves from seeing the harsh reality of what we have all been taught to value and strive for. They are the problem, not my little diet over here.
It’s a myth that “serious eating disorders are always visible.”
It’s scary to think someone could have a potentially fatal mental illness without any obvious outward signs. We take comfort in assuming that if something is that bad, the person will look sick. But the truth is that someone can be extremely ill but “look like the picture of health,” thanks to our culture’s conflation of thinness/fitness/restriction with health.
Most people don’t know the warning signs of an eating disorder, and it’s harder than ever because so many symptoms overlap with behaviors normalized and promoted in diet culture.
Far too many people suffer without anyone ever noticing. And this is especially true if you aren’t in a thin body.
The public concern trolling about the thinness of these actresses reinforces the myth that eating disorders have a “look” and that low-weight anorexia is the whole story of eating disorders. Only about 6% of people with an eating disorder are considered medically “underweight.” Most people with eating disorders, including anorexia, don’t appear emaciated.
And remember that eating disorders affect boys and men, too, but we don’t usually hear public outcry when a male actor’s body becomes dramatically thinner or more muscular. Instead, men tend to be praised for commitment to their art—and asked to pose for shirtless photographs to accompany articles detailing their fitness and diet regimen.
Fixating on extreme thinness feeds dangerous notions about who is “sick enough” to deserve care.
Among the many barriers to eating disorder treatment is the doubt people feel about whether they are “sick enough” (i.e., thin enough) to deserve care. Insurance companies and ill-informed treatment programs/providers can sometimes reinforce these beliefs.
If you’re someone struggling with food and aren’t sure how to get help, you may wonder whether your friends and family would ever notice something was wrong. Would they even believe you if you don’t have a gaunt appearance?
The outpouring of concern for extremely thin people sends a pretty clear message of who our culture deems worthy of care, trust, sympathy, and support.
Even if these women are ill, this kind of public discourse isn’t helpful.
Maybe these actresses are indeed struggling to eat enough for some reason. Having to respond to constant body critiques and questions about their private health information, however, does a lot more harm than good.
If something really is wrong, I trust their close circle of support is there for them. I realize fame doesn’t guarantee adequate treatment for mental health problems, but thin stars don’t face the kinds of financial barriers or weight stigma that most people with eating disorders do. In other words, if they need help, they have a better chance of getting it than almost anyone else. I think it’s safe to direct prayers and worries elsewhere.
The bottom line: Everyone with an eating disorder deserves compassion and care.
Focusing on the bodies of two thin celebrities doesn’t help us get to a place where everyone who needs treatment can get it. In fact, the dominant public discourse only reinforces stereotypes and contributing factors to the eating disorder crisis.
If you want to channel concern toward a good cause during the season of giving, considering donating to a nonprofit working to help more people access the eating disorder recovery support they need.2
In case you missed it
Dreading Thanksgiving diet talk? I’ve got you.
If humor’s your thing, here’s an updated version of my Diet Culture Bingo:
And if you could use some practical tips and scripts for the inevitable awkward moments, here you go:
Don't let the turkeys get you down
If you’re trying to protect your kids’ relationship with food—and perhaps healing your own at the same time—holiday feasts can be a minefield. It makes sense if you’re feeling anxious and angry about having to dread the inevitable: unwelcome comments about food or bodies.
Wishing you a joyful and nourishing Thanksgiving.
“Pro-ana” is the umbrella term for accounts promoting eating disorder behaviors. Yes, this is as awful as it sounds.
Some organizations you might consider supporting are Project Heal, FEAST, and The National Alliance for Eating Disorders.
This was so helpful. I knew this discourse didn’t feel right or helpful but I couldn’t put my finger on why. Thank you for unpacking it in such a clear and compassionate way!
I express concern to people in my close circle if I start to hear them say things that trigger my spidey sense- and I may feel concerned about people I am parasocially invested in but no part of me thinks seeing a fan express concern would change the behavior of a celebrity if they truly are suffering.
It is tough to know my friends and family didn’t seem to notice when I was truly struggling because I never appeared “too thin”- but negative thought patterns are pretty easy to hide!