The year I started my adult taekwondo training, I had a raging eating disorder. It manifested during my teen years, peaked during college, and remained mostly contained throughout my twenties and thirties until I hit my emotional rock bottom. It quieted as I found my mental solace in taekwondo. Four years later, it was blazing again until some personal things in my life shifted, and my mind calmed down. Four years after that, at age forty-one, it was back screaming in full force. A pandemic, serious injury, and unrelenting work pressure drove my eating disorder back out of hiding so it could resume controlling (and ruining) my life again.
Here’s the thing: I never admitted to myself or anyone else I had an eating disorder until I was bluntly confronted by a mental health professional in early 2021. I’d hidden behind the guise of perfectionism and professionalism both on and off the mat. I’d also hidden behind the identity of a strong, fit athlete, lying to myself that my eating habits were normal and necessary to keep up with my training demands. Upon reflection, I realize I was restricting food and obsessively weighing myself for most, if not all, my adult taekwondo career.
My eating disorder did not come from my sport, but rather, hid behind it.
I did not feel pressure from my taekwondo instructors to meet a certain weight or be a certain size. Taekwondo didn’t cause my eating disorder; it existed long before I donned a dobok and belt, and it took advantage of my athletic training. It was delighted that I would spend most of my evenings working up a sweat and sometimes feeling too tired to eat after class.
After the humbling experience of losing my athleticism due to severe injury and two subsequent surgeries, and working with professionals to beat my eating disorder once and for all, I finally have a decent relationship with my body. I do wonder, however, what my mindset will be like once I start training consistently at the dojang again. Will the temptation to over-exercise become overpowering, or will my new healthy mental habits remain? I also wonder how many other martial artists may be suffering silently the way I did for so long.
Are eating disorders an issue among martial artists the way they are among other types of athletes and performers?
In a PubMed search for “eating disorders” and “martial arts” I only found two citations: one on body esteem, perfectionism, and anxiety of judo athletes, and the other on body image and steroid use in male bodybuilders. Does the lack of data indicate a lack of eating disorders and body image problems in martial arts athletes, or does it indicate a lack of existing research on a real problem?
As a former medical librarian, I had a few more searching tricks up my sleeve. I did a more extensive search in the Ovid MEDLINE database, trying different keywords and combinations. My search still fell short. There were articles on short-term weight-cutting in professional mixed martial arts and elite competition (mostly karate and judo), but not much of anything about longer-term disordered eating behavior. Other search results were articles about injury and treatment.
I finally abandoned medical literature databases and went to good old Google. Most of the experiences documented on Reddit, blogs, and other sites were stories of people building confidence through martial arts, despite their eating disorders. The only first-hand account of the other way around, i.e., having an active and persistent eating disorder despite practicing a martial art was…mine, a blog post from 2017.
As one article in the Asian Journal of Sports Medicine aptly stated: “There is a link between self-confidence and weight loss, but it seems to allude to a comprehensive explanation and is in need of further research.” The lack of evidence doesn’t necessarily mean this problem doesn’t exist, but I do wonder if I’m yelling into an echo chamber.
So, what are you to do if you are a martial artist who is suffering from an eating disorder?
I am not a healthcare professional, so this advice comes from the first-hand experience of a patient: seek treatment from licensed professionals. That may be a therapist, a nutritionist, or some combination of both. Have a frank discussion with your instructor or coach, especially if you are feeling pressure to maintain a certain weight or size. If your training place is a safe place, embrace your martial art and honor the strong, beautiful body that helps you perform. Or, if it’s a toxic environment that won’t change, consider leaving. Your mental and physical health are more important than your belt rank.
You may feel like you are alone in the dark woods of an eating disorder. Martial artists are expected to be fit and mentally strong; meanwhile, many of us are struggling in silence. We may be black belts, but we are still human, and we need to prioritize our mental health as much as we do our physical health.
You are not alone. I am here, and I am listening.
Melanie has worked in the healthcare industry since 2004 and lives in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex.
- Spotlight on Men’s Mental Health - July 2, 2023
- Building Resilience When You’re Feeling Stressed - March 29, 2023
- Seeking Authenticity? Look to Martial Arts - February 9, 2023
You gave me a lot to think about here, Melanie, thanks so much for posting you journey. I also found your book on Amazon and ordered a copy, I look forward to reading it.
Thanks, David, and thank you so much for reading my book (saw you on IG!). Mental illness in martial arts has been a lonely endeavor, but I know I’m not the only on suffering in silence. I share my stories to reach out to others who are feeling lonely.
That’s really awesome, Melanie, that you would want to encourages others that I am sure are out there. BTW, I am enjoying your book!
Mel,
A wonderfully written post, as always. While our definitions of certain terms and stance on what martial arts can teach someone may differ, we do have one core belief in common: mental health is a far-too-often neglected aspect of martial art training, and of LIFE training!
Steve